“Keep those things off me!” the victim shouted as the boxes and cans piled up on him. “Do you think I’m a freight car?”
“As he stooped to pick up a box a can went rolling under Blythe’s makeshift bed. As he reached for the can a bag of beans burst like a sky-rocket, pouring a shower down his neck and into his pockets and over the floor.
“Now you see!” he yelled. “The eggs are sliding down!”
“Help, help!” called several scouts.
Pee-wee picked up two cans of sardines and sacrificed a bag of rice. He gathered up rice and beans together, and a jar of jam went rolling on a career of foreign travel. All was confusion.
“Time!” he screamed.
“He asks for an armistice,” Roy shouted.
“You mean a couple of dozen arms,” Westy shrieked.
“If you put another thing on me I’ll drop the eggs,” Pee-wee screamed. “I’ll drop them so that they–they–bounce, too.”
This threat of frightfulness cowered his assailants.