“No, we’ll camp up here,” said Townsend; “I guess this spot right here is as good as any. What do you say?”
“Gee whiz, it suits me,” said Pee-wee enthusiastically; “it’s nice and lonesome and everything along here.”
Townsend ran the car a little off the road, stopped it and turned out the lights. Then they took their things and entered the thick bordering woods.
CHAPTER XI
THE ENDLESS CHAIN
They found a good camping spot about a hundred yards in from the road, a little knoll on which they pitched a tent, although the foliage was so thick overhead that they hardly needed it. Outside the shelter they kindled a fire and fried some bacon, and sat by the companionable blaze eating their supper.
To avoid the grease from the bacon they put the slices between crackers, making sandwiches of them, and they were not half bad. This novel dainty, however, suggested to Pee-wee’s inventive mind another which proved (to Townsend at least) not so delectable. It consisted of a banana with slices of bacon plastered against it.
“I know what we’ll call it,” said Pee-wee, munching one with unconcealed relish, “a banakon, because that kind of suggests bananas and bacon both. Or maybe a bacanna—that’s a better name, bacanna; hey? I invented lots of things to eat. The man that invented Eskimo pies took the idea from me, because I put shrimps between chocolate bars, and I invented radish shortcake, too. Do you know how to make that?”
“Break it to me gently,” said Townsend.
“You take a piece of sponge cake,” said Pee-wee, “and you lay some radishes nice and even on the top of it, then you take another—Oh, I know what let’s do, let’s make ice cream cones out of birch bark, we can roll it up just like cones, I know how to do it, and—”