Deadwood Gamely seemed rather taken aback, but whether it was because of this refusal of his offer, or because Pee-wee’s loud announcement embarrassed him before the strangers it would be hard to say. Seeing that the diminutive scout no longer held the deadly stencil brush he removed Pee-wee’s hat with a swaggering good humor, ruffled his hair, and said (rather disconcertedly), “All right, kiddo; so long.”
Pee-wee had anticipated an argument with Gamely and he was surprised at the promptness and agreeableness of his dismissal. Two things, one seen and one heard, remained in his memory as he trudged back to the farm. One was a brief case lying on the back seat of the auto on which was printed WALLACE CONSTRUCTION CO. The other was something he heard one of the men say after he had returned a little way along the road.
“I didn’t think you were such a fool,” the man said, evidently to young Gamely. Within a few seconds more the auto was rolling away.
It seemed to Pee-wee that Gamely had told the men of his proposal to join the big enterprise and that they had denounced his wisdom and judgment. But Pee-wee was not the one to be discouraged by that. “Maybe they know all about construction,” he said to himself, “but that’s not saying they know all about refreshment shacks. I bet they don’t know any more about eats than I do.” Which in all probability was the case.
On the way back to the farm, Pee-wee noticed in a field the most outlandish scarecrow he had ever seen. It was sitting on a stone wall, and it must have been a brave crow that would have ventured within a mile of that ridiculous bundle of rags. The face was effectually concealed by a huge hat as is the case with most scarecrows, and all the cast-off clothing of Everdoze for centuries back seemed combined here in incongruous array.
What was Pee-wee’s consternation when he beheld this figure actually descend from the fence and come shambling over toward him. If the legs were not on stilts they were certainly the longest legs he had ever seen, and they must have been suspended by a kind of universal joint for they moved in every direction while bringing their burden forward.
Upon this absurd being’s closer approach, Pee-wee perceived it to be a negro as thin and tall as a clothespole, and so black that the blackness of sin would seem white by comparison and the arctic night like the blazing rays of midsummer. This was Licorice Stick whose home was nowhere in particular, whose profession was everything and chiefly nothing.
“I done seed yer comin’,” he said with a smile a mile long which shone in the surrounding darkness like the midnight sun of Norway. His teeth were as conspicuous as tombstones, and on close inspection Pee-wee saw that his tattered regalia was held together by a system of safety pins placed at strategic points. The terrible responsibility of suspenders was borne by a single strand consisting of a key ring chain connected with a shoe lace and this ran through a harness pin which, if the worst came to the worst, would act as a sort of emergency stop. Licorice Stick was built in the shape of a right angle, his feet being almost as long as his body and they flapped down like carpet beaters when he walked.
“You stayin’ wib Uncle Eb?” he asked. “I seed yer yes’day. I done hear yer start a sto.”
“A what?” Pee-wee asked, as they walked along together.