But in fact Pee-wee was not unhappy, only Emerson was unhappy. For Pee-wee was, as usual, triumphant. He sat on the front seat wedged in between Harry Bensen, the gypsy, and Martha Washington. Charlie Chaplin sat upon the top of the door to make room for him.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d fix it for you?” Pee-wee demanded of Emerson who squatted unobtrusively on the floor in back. “Didn’t I say I’d get you some eats? Now you’re going to have hot coffee and cake maybe and everything. Didn’t I say I’d fix it for you? Gee whiz, if a scout says he’ll do a thing he does it.”
“Even if he has to use an ice-pick,” said Harry Bensen, the gypsy king.
“I’d like to be a scout,” said Ruth Collins.
“Gee, it’s great being a scout,” said Pee-wee.
“It’s not so great being a scout’s sister,” said Joan of Arc.
“Joan of Arc carried a sword,” said Harry Bensen, nudging Pee-wee, “and a scout carries an ice-pick. I don’t believe you could use an ice-pick with such deadly skill.”
“The way I feel now I would like to use an axe with deadly skill if I had one,” said Elsie.
“What a bloodthirsty family,” laughed Harry Bensen.
“Are you hungry?” Pee-wee asked, looking around and peering down at the silent Emerson. “Now you’re going up to Dennison’s and I fixed it for you and you’re going to have eats just like you wanted, so gee whiz, you can’t say I’m not a fixer.”