“He loves him for his wheatcakes,” said Connie.
“You make me tired!” roared Pee-wee. “That shows how much you know about propa——”
“Oh, he’s proper all right,” said Connie.
“I mean propaganda,” Pee-wee roared. “That shows how much you know about being a propagandist and getting new fellers. Anyway, I like him and I don’t care what you say. He treated me fine in the city, and he’s all right.”
“For collecting lead pencils,” said Connie.
“I heard he does embroidery work,” said Roy.
“Is that any worse than birch-bark work?” Pee-wee thundered, not without a real touch of his boasted logic. “What’s the difference between making fancy things out of cloth or out of wood? Gee whiz! You make napkin-rings, don’t you?”
“You love him for his riches, kid,” laughed Roy.
“You make me sick,” Pee-wee panted, as he buried his teeth in his apple.
“I’ll tell you how it is, kid,” said Connie more seriously. “It isn’t a case of what you want. You’re all right, kiddo, as far as that goes. But he won’t join because it isn’t in him to join. If he joined, he’d drop out.”