Westy was telling Skinny how fine he looked and, oh, gee, Skinny was happy, you could see that. Of course, he didn’t look very good, I have to admit it, but he had a smile a mile long.
“You’re all right,” I told him, “all you have to do is to stand up straight and think about scouting and the oath and the laws, and then you’ll look like one.”
Then he said, “I have to have one of those axes, don’t I?”
“You should worry about an axe,” I said; “you didn’t see one in the picture did you?”
“Wasn’t it because the boy in the picture was facing me, and you wear the axe in back, don’t you?”
“Don’t you worry,” I told him, “I know that fellow in the picture and he hasn’t got one on.”
“One of your scout fellows says you have to have one,” he said, kind of timid.
“Good night!” I said to Westy, “Pee-wee’s been at it.”
“He knows, too,” Skinny said.
“You mean that little fellow?” I said. “Has he been talking to you?”