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Updated: June 21, 2025
He's awfully easy to jolly, but he doesn't stay mad long, that's one good thing about him. But one trouble, that boat didn't have any power, and it wouldn't even drift right on account of being almost square. Westy Martin said it was on the square, all right. He's a crazy kid, that fellow is. Anyway, the boat didn't have any power. Our scoutmaster, Mr.
"It ought to be named the Pee-wee," Westy said. "Nobody's paying much attention to it," I told him. Just as we came under the bridge we could see a big fat man, oh, Christopher, wasn't he fat, standing up in the pilot house pulling and pulling the whistle rope, for the bridge to open.
Gee, I know how easy it is for girls to cry, but a fellow anyway when I saw Westy sit down on the edge of that cot and not pay any attention to me, only to Skinny, I couldn't speak at all. I only just happened to think to do something and I'm glad I thought about it. I just raised my hand and made Westy Martin the full scout salute.
"Proceed with your narrative," I told him; "begin at the beginning, go on till you come to the end, then stop." "Be sure to stop," Westy said. Well, then Pee-wee went on to tell us about the kindly old gentleman. He lived in a big white house, he said, with grounds around it and a big flag pole on the lawn, with a flag flying from it.
We'd like to make some money, but gee whiz, that isn't the only thing we care about. Camping and all that that's what we like. Don't we, Westy?" "Where can we find you up there?" Westy asked. "You go up the Knickerbocker Road and right in through the old entrance," Blythe said. "The second shack you come to on your left is where I'm bunking. You'll see me around somewhere."
I bet there's a lot of canned salmon in this river." "Canned what? Pee-wee shouted. "Keep on bailing," I said; "canned salmon is what he said, but I think there are more pickled herrings. There's lots of pickled herrings in the Hudson, I know that." "You mean smoked herring," Westy said, all the while rowing and looking around very sober like at me.
He hadn't more'n got through the swing-door before Doris slumps in her chair, puts her face into her hands, and begins lettin' out the sobs reckless. Course, Westy jumps to the rescue and starts pattin' her on the back and offerin' soothin' words. So does Vee. "There, there!" says Vee. "We don't mind a bit. Such things are bound to happen." "But I I don't know what to do," sobs Doris.
"Which are we going to do?" Peewee yelled. "We are!" shouted Roy. "Do we go to the city?" Doc asked seriously. "Posilutely," said Roy; "that's why I'm asking who's boss of this meeting; so we can take up a collection." "All right, go ahead and be boss as long as you're up there," Connie Bennett said, "only don't stand on the cake." "Don't slip on the icing," Westy shouted.
Everyone said "hello" to us, but they were the coldest "helloes" you ever saw. "If I'd known it was going to be as cold as this. I'd have worn my sweater," I told Westy. Even my own patrol didn't say anything to us, and they all looked kind of glum. I heard Will Dawson say something about our patrol being "in bad," but I didn't pay any attention I should worry.
From the neighborhood of that old tower, though perhaps farther off, they could not tell, came a sound almost human, a kind of moaning intermingled with a plaintive wail, pitched in a higher key. "Spooky," Westy said. "This is the kind of a place I like," said Connie. "Only it's nice to have somebody here," Blythe admitted. "That's all right, we're here," Pee-wee said.
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