“Where did you get that thing,” Pee-wee shouted, “it looks like a horse’s trough.”
“You have to part your hair in the middle to ride in it, I can tell you that,” I told him.
“Where were you all the time?” he said.
“I was captured by a band of Apaches,” I said.
“What kind of a band?” Pee-wee yelled.
“A brass band,” I told him; “a brass band of Apaches.”
“You make me sick!” he said, kind of disgusted.
“They took me to their village and were going to burn me at the stake, only the butcher didn’t bring it, then they decided they’d chop me to pieces only the butcher didn’t bring the chops——”
Oh, boy! you should have seen that kid. He fired a wet bailing sponge at me and I dodged it and it hit one of his own patrol—kerflop!
I guess you’ll think all us fellows are crazy, especially me. I should worry. I told them I escaped in the canoe and all that kind of stuff, but at last I told them the real story and you can bet they were glad I was saved. They all said I had a narrow escape, and I admit it was only about an inch wide.