“Well, sir,” he said, surprised and amused. “What are you doing here? Such a small boy to stop such a big train.” At which the curious throng laughed.
“I could stop a bigger one than that,” said Pee-wee. “If you have resources you can stop them.” At which the throng laughed still more.
“Anyway, I’m glad I met you because you’re a judge,” Pee-wee vociferated, “and you know all about those things, so is a feller—has he got a right to drive a car if a goat eats his license? He can’t help it, can he? Gee whiz, that’s not fair, is it? Townsend Ripley, you know him, he got arrested from here because a goat across the road ate his license and eleven dollars too, so he can’t even pay a fine. Gee whiz, that isn’t fair, is it? Maybe they won’t let him come back even, so do you call that fair?”
Justice Dopett, who had resolved many puzzling questions, seemed to regard this one as a poser.
“I bet it’s a teckinality, hey?” said Pee-wee. “Yes, it’s a technicality,” said the judge, amid much laughter. “I think the best thing for you boys to do is to—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” Pee-wee vociferated, “and we’re not going to go home no matter what, because we’re not quitters, because you know all about scouts, you made a speech and said so, and we’re going to drive to Temple Camp anyway, no matter what, because we started. No siree, I don’t care about teckinalities or anything, we’re going to drive to Temple Camp and I’m going to stay here till Townsend gets back and if they keep him there, I’ll get a habis corpse because he couldn’t help it if the goat ate his license, could he?”
“What was it, a Ford car?” an amused travelling man asked.
“He didn’t eat the car, he only ate the license,” said Pee-wee.
“Oh,” said the man.
“And I didn’t have any supper either,” said Pee-wee.