“All we have to do is to follow you,” Roy said, “and adventures come around wanting to eat out of our hands.”
“And I–I’m the one to show you where there’s money too,” Pee-wee said. “I’m a capital or whatever you call it.”
“You’re the smallest capital I ever saw,” Roy said.
CHAPTER IV
PEE-WEE FIXES IT
The concerted assault which the scouts made upon their parents for permission to proceed with their plan ended in a compromise. Late that same afternoon Mr. Ellsworth, scoutmaster of the troop, drove up to the old camp in his auto and looked over the situation. He talked with Blythe also and was evidently not unfavorably impressed, for he returned to Bridgeboro quite converted to the enterprise.
“He’s a queer kind of a duck,” he said to Mr. Blakeley, referring to Blythe. “I think he’s out of luck and rather discouraged. He doesn’t say much. I think he took this job in desperation not knowing exactly how he was going to go ahead with it. He expects to get three hundred dollars for what he’s undertaken. He means to divide evenly, he said, but of course that will leave him with only twelve dollars, if the whole troop goes up. He doesn’t seem to have any grasp of things at all.
“I proposed to him that he keep one hundred dollars for himself and give the boys the other two hundred. This fellow has lost his grip and I doubt if he’ll do much work, but of course it’s his job. It’s as much to help him as anything else that I’d like to see the troop go up there. It ought to be fun camping in the ramshackle old place; I’d rather like it myself.”
“This Blythe, he doesn’t belong around these parts, does he?” Mr. Blakeley asked.
“No, I believe not, but I think he’s all right. I size him up for a disheartened member of the big army of unemployed who stumbled on this opportunity. He has a look in his eyes that goes to my heart. He needs to be out-of-doors, that’s sure. If the troop doesn’t give him a hand he’ll have to pass it up. The boys want a little money and here’s a good chance to earn it and do a good turn at the same time.”