"He's foiled," said Pee-wee. "I met him when I escaped from your garage; he gave me a lead pencil and he said he'd help me take the car back to Mr. Bartlett that took me to the show in his car. Gee whiz, you get sleepy sometimes, don't you?"
"Very, but I don't get a chance to sleep much with bronze cross scouts and manual training teachers to keep me on the move."
"Gee whiz, I'm sorry I woke you up."
"Not at all, the pleasure is mine," said Scoutmaster Ned. "I live in a den of wild Indians; I seldom sleep. And our friend escaped? It doesn't speak very well for teachers, does it? School--"
"Gee whiz, I'll help anybody to foil a school."
"Good. Come over here, Pee-wee Harris, and let us get at the details of this adventure; I have a hunch that you and I are going to be friends. You are a--what shall I say?--a bandit after my own heart. So you have seven merit badges and the bronze cross, eh? Do you think you could steal--excuse me--win a silver cup?"
"Can you drink out of it?" Pee-wee demanded.
"Positively--lemonade, grape juice, root beer--"
"Malted milk also. And a sandwich goes with it. I think that cup was made for a bronze cross scout. Come over here a minute."
Pee-wee went over and stood between the knees of Scoutmaster Ned. "He's mine, Bill," said Ned to his fellow scoutmaster, "I saw him first."