“You bet your life he won’t get this,” called Pee-wee, clutching the judge’s letter. “Gee whiz, you bet your life he won’t get this.”
CHAPTER XXIV
PEE-WEE FIXES IT
As the train moved past him, Pee-wee was conscious of a feeling of loneliness; it was so bright and cheery inside the cars. Now that his spirit was no longer supported by the emergency, and his suspense was gone, the deserted houses and the woods oppressed him.
Moreover, now that he had time to think of other things, he was haunted with misgivings about Townsend. Suppose they should hold him in jail. That great oracle, Justice Dopett, had not said that they would not do so. Suppose they should.
Pee-wee wondered what he should do if Townsend did not return in an hour—two hours. Neither of them had any money, Pee-wee realized that. The goat had elected himself treasurer. Well, he would wait a little while, maybe an hour, and then he would start walking to the nearest town where he supposed his friend would be held as a hostage.
“Gee whiz, one thing anyway, I always treated animals good,” he complained aloud.
He left the woods and the deserted houses to infer that the goat had been a thankless creature. He was hungry now, too, and there seemed no prospect of supper. He might search in the darkness for moss which he knew to be a scout “resource” for baffling the demon of starvation. But he did not feel like eating moss. He wanted some fried bacon. It seemed as if fate had been very unkind to him. The billy goat had the driver’s license and all the money and Liz had all the food . . .
The last car moved slowly by, a child sucking a stick of candy glanced curiously out at the diminutive cause of all the trouble and then—
Then, directly across the tracks two bright lights stared at him in the unobstructed highway; two lights looking cross-eyed.