"That's law one, it's about honor; do you know what that is?"
"I've heard of it," said Mr. Bartlett.
"A scout has to be honorable, see? That comes first of all."
"Before eating?"
"Eating is all the way through it."
"Oh, I see."
"A scout has to be so--kind of--you know, so honorable that nobody could suspect him, see? If you're a scout that means that everybody knows you're all right. There are a lot of other laws too."
"Well, here we are at the Lyric," said Mr. Bartlett, "so let's go in and see what The Bandit of Harrowing Highway thinks about honor."
Leaving the car in front of the theatre the three elbowed their way through the long, crowded lobby and soon Pee-wee Harris, scout, was no longer in Bridgeboro but among rugged mountains where a man with a couple of pistols in his belt and a hat as big as an umbrella reined up a spirited horse and waited for a caravan and all that sort of stuff....