MR. GAMELY DECIDES TO KEEP AWAY FROM PEE-WEE’S BRUSH.
Deadwood Gamely broke into a very excessive but false laugh. “No harm intended,” he said, vaulting on to the fence and sitting discreetly at that distance. “What’s all this going on here? Going to have a circus or play store or something?”
Pee-wee was always magnanimous in victory. Abiding enmity was a thing he knew not. So now he laid down his stencil brush (within easy reach) and said, “We’re going to start a refreshment shack and sell fruit and lemonade and waffles and things and maybe auto accessories and souvenirs.”
Pepsy seemed a bit uncomfortable as Pee-wee said this, perhaps just a trifle ashamed. She was afraid that this clever, sophisticated young fellow would ridicule their enterprise, as indeed there was good reason to do. Yet she felt ashamed, too, of her momentary faithlessness to Pee-wee.
“Maybe some people will pass here when they have the carnival at Berryville,” she said, half apologetically.
To her surprise Deadwood Gamely, instead of emitting an uproarious, mocking laugh, appeared to be thinking.
“Bully for you,” he finally said, looking all about as if to size up the surroundings. “Right on the job, hey? I’d like to buy some stock in that enterprise. Whose idea is it? Yours, kiddo?”
“We’re going to make money enough to buy three tents for the scout troop I belong to,” Pee-wee said.
“Visiting here, hey?”
“I live in Bridgeboro, New Jersey; I’m here for the summer.”