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Updated: May 4, 2025
He certainly did not believe in talking lights appearing over graveyards. Nor did he credit Pee-wee's vehement and choppy account of bandits with seventy pistols. "Whar are these here dead ones?" he asked, rather confused. "Over yonder in the graveyard?" "How do I know where they are?" Pee-wee shouted. "Do you know what blackjacks are?"
The darkness and Pee-wee's own thumping heart had contributed to the horrible illusion and he smiled in the utter relief which he experienced by the discovery. But one other discovery he had made also which gave him an inspiration and made him feel foolish that he had not had the inspiration before.
How much this had to do with Pee-wee's actually going to the scene of the fire it would be hard to say. If he had not talked with Whitie he probably would not have gone. At all events, he had nothing else to do and he wanted to think. So he followed the trail through the woods to the highway.
Wiggle, with characteristic indecision, chased the cows a few yards, returned to his companions, darted off to chase the cows again, deserted that pastime with erratic suddenness, and returned again wagging his tail and looking up intently as if to ask, "What next?" Then he lay down panting. Mr. Ellsworth, Pee-wee's scoutmaster, would have said that Wiggle lacked method. ...
Well, I guess that's all there is to tell you about the meeting, and in the next chapter I'm going to tell you all about how we collected the books for the fellows in camp, and how the mystery about the boat was solved. Those are Pee-wee's words about the mystery of the boat.
But recruits did not flock to Pee-wee's standard. Perhaps this was partly because of the fall and winter season when the lure of camping and roughing it was in abeyance. Perhaps it was because he was so small that boys were fain to think that scouting was a thing for children and beneath their dignity.
And never was moth lured by a flame more irresistibly than this little green fugitive was lured by the splashing of that stream. "Oh, can you catch him? Can you catch him?" pleaded the girl as she clutched Pee-wee's arm. "Let go a minute," said Pee-wee. "Now, all stand back, here goes!"
This acquisition was the pride of Pee-wee's life; its heavy metal stand had long since gone the way of all junk and it could not stand unsupported.
"An umbrella," interrupted Tom. The remark, notwithstanding that it shocked Pee-wee's sense of fitness, inasmuch as they were scouting and "roughing it," was not inappropriate, for even as Tom spoke the patter of great drops was heard. "Maybe it's been raining here this afternoon," observed Tom, "and that's what makes all this mud." "Well, it's certainly raining here now," said Roy.
Another was in Pee-wee's lap and our hero was armed with a deadly spoon. "I know who you are," he said, as he annihilated a cocoanut macaroon. "You're the feller I saw this morning. Didn't I tell you if you got to be a scout you'd have all you want to eat? Now you see!" Keekie Joe did see but he was too astounded to speak.
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