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He was not going to take any chances with Ham Sanders. In the last few miles of their inglorious journey, Pee-wee had been trouble enough to him and how to get rid of that redoubtable youngster had been a question. So Mr. Swiper paused not to make an issue of Peter Piper's audacious act.
Thanks to Pee-wee, the door of the rustic lakeside garage stood invitingly open. "I won't I won't say anything about money; gee whiz, you needn't have any fear," Pee-wee said, making a play for his companion's good-will; "gee, I wouldn't do that I wouldn't. But you could take a medal, couldn't you? A scout good-will medal?" he added anxiously. "Maybe," said Mr. Swiper.
He withdrew into the shelter of the woods and in the fullness of time to the more secure shelter of an Illinois penitentiary where he was entered under the name of Chick Swiper, alias Chick the Speeder, alias Chick the Gent, alias the Car King, alias Jack Skidder perhaps because he was so slippery.
"I don't know; they've got your list in the tent." "Let's go and see," said Tom, rising; but at this moment Jack Raggles and two or three more came running to the island moat. "O Brown, mayn't I go in next?" shouts the Swiper. "Whose name is next on the list?" says the captain.
They drove it right away from in front of the theater. Anyway," he added excitedly as he trotted along, "I'm glad I met you because now I don't have to wake up the police or anything, hey? And I bet Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett will be surprised when they see us bringing it back, won't they? I'll show you where we have our meetings." Mr. Swiper was not carried off his feet by Pee-wee's excited talk.
"The the road is it's closed," he said, his voice trembling. The hand which held the knife stole below the shiny mud-guard and rested on the smooth, unyielding rubber. "The road is closed," he repeated. Mr. Swiper climbed down out of the car, muttering an oath.
It came to you on the ruins of that old school. And it has come away down here, Mr. Swiper, and knocked on the door of Peter Piper, pioneer scout, of Piper's Crossroads. "What's all this?" asked Mr. Swiper, as the car came to a stop before the rope. With hand shaking and heart thumping, but borne up by a towering resolve, Peter took his stand beside one of the front wheels.
"Winter's, and then Arthur's," answers the boy who carries it; "but there are only twenty-six runs to get, and no time to lose. I heard Mr. Aislabie say that the stumps must be drawn at a quarter past eight exactly." "Oh, do let the Swiper go in," chorus the boys; so Tom yields against his better judgment.
Swiper lost no time upon hearing Peter's startling announcement. Rushing to the back of the car he confirmed the information by a frantically hurried inspection, keeping up a running fire of curses the while. For a manual training teacher he was singularly profane.
Gee, nobody can deny that. Anyway, I guess you don't feel scary." "Guess they won't follow us," said Mr. Swiper. "Not if they know what's well for them. Thieves don't come after you, they run away from you." "You bet they do," said Pee-wee, delighted at his new friend's rather generous contribution to the talk.
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