“Yes, if you don’t get lost,” he said absently, “and be on hand at eight to-morrow morning. I may be ready to go on then.”
“Yes, sir,” said both boys cheerfully. What luck! The General certainly didn’t know what he was getting himself into.
“The whole night to ourselves, and no bounds, and only we mustn’t get lost!” chuckled Porky.
“Peach pie!” murmured Beany. “Let’s be off! Where will we go first?”
“Down there,” said Porky, waving a hand widely over the valley.
“That’s where I thought. But we can’t get into any scrape on account of the General. You know he wasn’t thinking about us at all when he spoke, and, besides, there would be an awful fuss if we got into any trouble. It would be good-by to our little trip. We would be sent back quicker than they sent Bill and Peggy.”
“Who wants to get into any scrape?” said Porky. “All I want to do is to see—to see—well, to see just what I can do.”
“Well, come on,” said Beany mournfully. “I bet we are in for some fun, because when we look for things we generally find ’em.”
“What hurts me,” said Porky, “is not carrying weapons of any sort. It’s a good safe rule for the Boy Scouts, but I’d be glad of some little thing like a sling shot or a putty blower.”
“I don’t need anything,” said Beany, “I’ve got the neatest thing you ever did see.” Quite suddenly he drew something from his hip pocket and shoved it under his brother’s nose. Porky sidestepped.