"I think that's a good name for Joe McKinny," said Miss Carlton; "he's so slow coming to school."
"I can prove you're wrong about him," said Pee-wee, "because alligators don't go to school and——"
"Won't you have another, Walter?"
"One for good measure, hey?" said Pee-wee. "Anyway, how much do you want to bet he won't go to school now? Because he will, because scouts have to do what they're supposed to do and I bet you he'll——"
"Another, Walter?"
"I'll take a pink one this time. I bet you he'll go to school and be all right on account of starting to be a scout. I got some money for grandstand seats on our island to see the boat races and I'll treat you to a soda."
"Thank you," laughed Miss Carlton, "but I think not now."
Miss Carlton knew Pee-wee well enough (for he had been in her class) not to inquire particularly about his multifarious adventures. She knew that they were too numerous and complicated for casual recital. Nor had she any faith in the influence of scouting on Keekie Joe. She did not believe that any power in the world could tempt Keekie Joe to school on a Monday, because Keekie Joe's partiality to liberal week ends was well known to her.
"Well, I only hope it will do him some good,"; said Miss Carlton dubiously.
"You mean scouting? Sure it will. You just wait and see. So long, maybe I'll see you on Monday."