“You liked him, eh?” Mr. Blakeley asked.
“Yes, on the whole I did. He’s an odd case and I can’t altogether make him out, but I liked him. I don’t think he’s very well, for one thing.”
“Well I guess it’s a good chance for the boys,” Mr. Blakeley said.
That, indeed, was the consensus of opinion of the men higher up and there was another demonstration of the remarkable power which the scouts had over their parents.
“We know how to manage them all right,” said Pee-wee to Roy. “I told your father I’d see that you got back all safe; I told him to leave it to me.”
Pee-wee’s responsibilities, according to his own account, were many and various. He promised Doc Carson’s mother that he would personally see to it that Doc wore his sweater at night. He gave his word to Mr. Hollister that Warde would not over-eat–Pee-wee was an authority on that subject. He distributed his promises and undertook obligation with a generosity that only a boy scout can show. He advised Mrs. Benton, Dorry’s mother, not to worry, that her son should be the subject of his especial care.
He magnanimously volunteered to be responsible for the safety of the whole troop. And he announced that Mr. Ellsworth’s judgment was the same as his own precisely.
With such assurances the troops’ parents could not do otherwise than surrender unconditionally, and Pee-wee of the Ravens was the hero, the George Washington, of the expedition.
At all events he carried his little hatchet with him, and it pulled on his belt so that he had to be continually hoisting it up and tightening his belt so that before the expeditionary forces had gone far he looked not unlike a bolster tied in the middle.