Before Pee-wee realized what his friend was doing the flivver had left the road and was going licketysplit down through the woods, wriggling in and out among the trees, squeaking, creaking, rattling, grinding, moaning, bouncing, jouncing, halting, plunging, staggering, skidding, with Townsend sitting on the seat in proud and unruffled complacency. He looked as funny as a circus. Down it went, over the brook with a terrific bounce, around the main pavilion, grazing the cooking shack and uttering a prolonged squeak as Townsend jammed on the brakes to bring it to a dead stop just in front of the springboard, where it seemed on the point of taking a graceful loop-the-loop into the lake.
“Whoooa, Liz,” said Townsend, as scouts, yes, and scoutmasters, came running from every direction. “Here we are at last, the three of us.”
Thus Temple Camp saw Townsend Ripley and his flivver for the first time.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE SOLEMN VOW
In less than an hour after the arrival of the trio the whole camp was singing, “Will you love me when my flivver is a wreck?” But Pee-wee paused not to participate in the honors paid to Townsend and Liz. He deserted the old love for the new and betook himself to Memorial Cabin.
He found the scene quiet and restful after his strenuous journey. The birds sang in the trees which enclosed the rustic cabin, squirrels, darted from limb to limb and hurried up and down the trunks, and the sun sent his playful rays down through the leafy branches. No sign was there of Pee-wee’s unknown guest.
Having inspected his lonely domicile he returned to the turmoil of the camp proper and entered the sacred precincts of the cooking shack where he announced his arrival in camp to Chocolate Drop, the cook.
“I’m here,” said Pee-wee; “I’m back again.”
“I sees you is,” said Chocolate Drop, smiling all over. “You dun gwan to lib on de hill?” he asked.