"Yes sir, we rode to Bridgeboro, New Jersey, got a prize cup for my kindergarten class to try for, looked in at a show, saw a guy with a lot of pistols, got home at about, oh I don't know--rowed over to the island where we're camping, and these two kids rowed back to get the cup out of the car, and found the car gone and sent a signal that nobody saw and we came along in this fellow's Packard. Well, we've got the old Hunkajunk back, anyway, haven't we kids? I'll say we have. These kids told the world only the world was asleep or something. Well, we've had pretty good luck at that, I'll say; we found the car, the school burned down--"
Suddenly, like a burst of thunder rose the recovered voice of Pee-wee Harris, while in frantic accompaniment his feet beat the floor and his small arms swung in wild excitement. With his deadly vocal artillery he silenced the breezy talk of Scoutmaster Ned and set the company aghast with his triumphant clamor.
"I've got an insulation--I mean an inspiration--listen--keep still--everybody! I'm the one that--that fixed it so you could have all those adventures--I'm the one--I got into the wrong car--in Bridgeboro--I saw that show and I thought you were the ones that had pistols and now I know that you're not murderers--because I was half asleep and I came out because I hate educational films but I like bandits, but I don't like real ones--"
"He likes reel ones," suggested Safety First.
"--And I met a thief and he was disguised as a manual training teacher and now he's foiled because I asked him to help me take Mr. Bartlett's car back and it's already back, because this is a different car and I was under--I was disguised under the buffalo robe--and I wrote a letter under there and pinned it to a piece of sandwich with a safety pin that I was being kidnapped--you can ask anybody so that shows I'm not a bandit and I can prove I'm a scout--I don't care what anybody says because you can hang an apple on a string and I can bite it without touching it with my hands, and I'm the only one in my patrol that can do that and I'm not an enemy to you because if that school burned down I'm glad too and I've got seven merit badges and the bronze cross and if you find that letter I wrote you can see how that piece of sandwich fits my mouth where I bit it and that's better than finger-prints and I can prove it--I don't care what anybody says--I got into the wrong car and even the smartest man in the world--even--even--even George Washington could do that. I've got seven merit badges," he concluded breathlessly as a climax to his outburst.
With an air of profound solemnity Scoutmaster Ned arose and made the full scout salute to the mascot of the Raven Patrol, F.B.T. B.S.A. "May I ask the name of the hero who was disguised as my buffalo robe?" he asked.
"Pee-wee Harris, only size doesn't count," said the scream of Bridgeboro's crack troop.
"Quite so," said Scoutmaster Ned; "George Washington might have been small once himself. Am I right, Nick?"
"Positively," said Nick.
"And the manual training bandit? May I ask about him?"