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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Then we got some gas and started for Bridgeboro after the cup. We went after that cup like Sir Thomas Lipton. The jewelry man didn't have the engraving finished so we dropped in at a movie show and saw a fellow with a lot of pistols. How many pistols were there, First Aid? We counted them off coming back in the machine, there were seventy. Crazy stuff. That's the kind of stuff you kids fall for.
There had been so few things in Pepsy's poor little life that she had put her whole intense little heart and soul in this and was resolved that this hero from the great world of Bridgeboro should buy the tents which in plain fact he had already forgotten about. What concerned him now was this mystery of the speeding cyclists. That was the big thing in his young life.
It seemed as if all Nature, solemn and companionable, was there to greet the little mascot of the Raven Patrol, First Bridgeboro Troop, B.S.A. The car of a thousand delights had so far afforded very few delights to Pee-wee Harris. Pee-wee looked about him at an enchanted scene. He seemed to have been transported to a region made to order for the Boy Scouts of America.
And that is by no means a bad sort of place to begin, for Bennett had the genial habit of filling an ice cream cone so that the cream stood up on top like the dome on the court house in Bridgeboro, and extended down into the apex, packed tight and hard.
His discovery and prompt identification by Detective Ferrett was due to an alarm sent to Bridgeboro of an accident at the old camp. The information being uncertain, local police officials and the county officer accompanied the ambulance to the camp, where it was found that the young man, who is a stranger to the scouts, had sustained injuries to his head and body.
But he jumped down and he just said, "I'll fix it." And I knew he would. And they'll get it too, because everybody in town is out these nights looking at the searchlights down the Hudson." That was one lucky thing. A lot of cruisers and torpedo boats were down in the harbor and up the Hudson, and we could see their searchlights even in Bridgeboro.
"We're going to have some events on Saturday," he said. "This fellow with me is from the Edgemere High School and " "He's going to get beaten," shouted Pee-wee; "because Bridgeboro High School can lick all the high schools around here, in athletics and debates and everything." "That's all right, Kiddo," said the fellow from Edgemere High School. "You bet it's all right," said Pee-wee.
Be that as it may, he soon proceeded to unload these, as well as the interesting junk which he had gathered, the most surprising object of which was the dilapidated revolving traffic sign lately discarded by the Bridgeboro police department in favor of a lighthouse or silent cop, so called.
When he had put the racing fans on the Edgemere trolley, Pee-wee, like Jack ashore, betook himself into Bridgeboro to have his fling before returning to the ship. The habit of sailors home from long voyages is well known, and we need not be surprised to find him bending his steps toward Bennett's Fresh Confectionery, where he climbed onto one of the stools before the soda fountain.
"He did the trick that won it." "I'll tell you who she belongs to," said Pee-wee. "She belongs to the First Bridgeboro Troop, Boy Scouts of America." "Raven, Fox and Elk!" said Roy. "Right you are, Pee-wee. United we stand, divided we squall."
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