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Updated: May 4, 2025
"What do you know about that!" said Roy. "Strike a light and let's see where we're at. I feel like a wet dish rag." Presently Pee-wee's flashlight was poking its bright shaft this way and that as they looked curiously about them. They were in a neglected and disheveled, but very cosy, little cabin with sleeping lockers on either side and chintz curtains at the tiny portholes.
The tower had fallen and its ruins lay about Pee-wee's feet. A lantern hung in the tent and through the opening Keekie Joe caught a glimpse of a board covered with spotless white cloth and piled with such things as he had seen in the windows of bakeries.
It followed the Hudson, sometimes running along the very brink with the mighty highlands rising above it and sometimes running between hills which shut the river from their view. "Hark," said Tom. "What did I tell you! Thunder!" A low, distant rumble sounded, and as they paused in the gathering darkness, listening, a little fitful gust blew Pee-wee's hat off.
Pee-wee's enthusiasm was contagious and Pepsy was soon keyed up to the new enterprise, even to the point of facing Mr. Sawyer. She had cautiously resolved, however, to remain close to the door of his office, so that she might effect a precipitate retreat at the first mention of an orphan asylum.
He would not really have hurt a youngster like Pee-wee but he would have made him look and feel ridiculous. But a glance at Pee-wee's gummy stencil brush reminded Mr. Gamely that discretion was the better part of valor. A dexterous dab or two of that would have put an end to all his glory. Pee-wee left no doubt about this. "This summer-house is on private land," he said, "and I'm the boss of it.
"Pee-wee's to blame in a way," Westy said, after a while; it's the belt-axe the poor kid was thinking about." "No, he isn't to blame, either," I said; "he didn't mean anything he didn't mean for Skinny to do anything like that." "He should have kept his mouth shut," Westy said. "Anyway," I said, "I'm not going to make that speech; I just can't. I'm not going to say anything to Skinny about it.
"I don't think I ever ate them sliced before." It may be said that Pee-wee's ideas, whether fried or baked or boiled or roasted, were usually underdone and required to be put back into the oven.
I had a dozen things calling me, but I took the time to rub his nose and brush back his ears and tell him he was the grandest old dog on all God's green earth. And he repaid me with a look of adoration that put springs under my heels for the rest of the morning, and came and licked Pee-Wee's bare heels, and later Poppsy's, when I was giving them their bath. Friday the Tenth
It was the same old smile, simple and companionable, as if he were of their own age and one of them. All in a rush it took them back to old Camp Merritt. "Doctor Cawson," he said, just above a whisper. "Did he come too? He'd like to see me now, eh?" "No, he didn't come, boss," said Warde; "but Pee-wee's coming. I guess he stopped to do a good turn. Better?"
Pee-wee's first impulse was to shout, but on second thought it occurred to him that the army of invasion consisting of two, one of them might make a flank move on hearing his warning voice, and that one detective could thus drive the criminals into the very arms of the other, as they passed through the back yard of Chin Foo's laundry. Chin Foo's back yard was a sort of trap.
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