In a few moments they were rattling through the country and a brakeman whom they had not heard before was saying, “Westfield and Springvale Express. The first stop is Westfield.”
“Gooood niiiight! It doesn’t stop at Bridgeboro,” Pee-wee said. “Now see what you—what we did. We’re on the wrong train.”
“GOOD NIGHT, WE’RE ON THE WRONG TRAIN!”
“Apparently,” said Emerson, consulting his time-table. “We should have taken the ten forty-two. I didn’t notice that this train doesn’t stop at Bridgeboro. It’s provoking, it’s my fault; I should have had my——”
“I know what you’re going to say! I know what you’re going to say!” Pee-wee shouted at the top of his voice. Every one in the car turned to stare. “You’re going to say you should have had your wits about you and I’m glad you didn’t, because now you’ve got to join the scouts, and that’s one good thing about the Erie Railroad anyway, oh, gee whiz, we’re going to go right past Bridgeboro, and I’m glad, and I’ll show you the way home through the woods from Westfield because I got a compass, so now you got to be a scout, so will you? Because on account of your honor you’re to be trusted, so will you? Oh, boy, I bet you’ll like hiking home through the woods!”
“I don’t see how I made such a mistake,” said Emerson, frowningly inspecting his time-table, for all the world like an experienced traveling man.
“Don’t you care, don’t you care!” cried Pee-wee. “It’s a dandy mistake; I’ve made lots of dandy ones but, oh, boy, that’s even better than any of mine because now you’ve got to keep your word just like I did, but anyway I want you to join because now I like you, so you’ve got to join, so will you?”
“I suppose I’ll have to,” said Emerson ruefully.
“Sure you have to,” said Pee-wee, his lips painted with soft chocolate. “You took me to the city so now I’m going to take you through the woods in the dark, but don’t you be scared, because anyway if you try to go in a straight line in the woods you can’t do it on account of your heart beating on your left side, so you go round in a circle like a merry-go-round, but don’t you care because we have to go south from Westfield and I can tell the south by the way moss grows on the trees—you’ll see. And I bet you’ll say you’re glad you got to be a scout; gee whiz, I hope the engineer doesn’t stop at Bridgeboro by mistake or maybe on account of a freight or something. Anyway, as long as it’s not supposed to stop, we wouldn’t have any right to get out anyway, would we? Because that would be kind of sneaking.”