“And what the dickens are you up to?” he asked, planting himself in front of the float as if he might possibly be induced to buy it. “Great kids, these boy scouts, hey?” He did not address this last remark to any one in particular. By way of showing how far removed he was from a boy scout he sat down on a box and carefully gave each trouser leg a little hoist, then contemplated his ankles.
“It’s just sort of killing time,” Hope said, rather apologetically. “Anything’s better than nothing.”
Pee-wee was a little disappointed at that. “We’re going in the parade,” he said, “and we’re going to try for the prize; this is my partner, ain’t you, Hope?”
This was all the introduction that he received, but it was all he required.
“Some artist, hey?” he commented, alluding to Pee-wee.
“It’s all we could find to do in this poky old place,” said Hope, as if a little ashamed of her participation in the decorative enterprise. She stood, as if rather abashed by Braggen’s derisive inspection of their handiwork, a hammer dangling from one hand and a strip of bunting hanging over her shoulder.
Pee-wee felt disappointed, almost betrayed. He had always the courage of his convictions, and as for acknowledging defeat before the end of battle, his sturdy little heart rebelled at such a thing.
“It isn’t finished yet,” he said; “it’s going to be a good deal better than this. There’s a—a kind of a secret about it—something that’s going to be inside of it—you wait till you see it in the parade. There’s an inspiration that goes with it,” he added, darkly.
Everett Braggen winked significantly at Hope and she smiled. Both the work and the smile were at Pee-wee’s expense.
“You ought to see the float we’re going to shoot into the parade,” said the visitor; “it’s a traveling landscape. Yours, sincerely, is going to be sitting on the lawn playing cards while we roll merrily, merrily on. The girls up at the Snailsdale House—that’s my little old hang-out—they can’t eat their meals on account of getting that float ready. They’ve got us trotting over to the village store forty-eleven times a day. Every person in the house put up two bucks. Our float’s going to be a whole parade in itself.”