“Oh, I don’t know, Kid,” Roy answered, nettled and annoyed; “let’s not talk about it. We’re going to see him anyway. Come on, let’s get Warde, that’s a good idea.”
Without another word Pee-wee turned up the next corner toward his home.
“Aren’t you going, Kid?” Roy called.
“Go ahead,” said Pee-wee, never turning, “I’ll be there. I know the way.”
Roy watched the sturdy little figure trudging along the side street. He knew that Pee-wee was both angry and disgusted; he could tell by his walk. But the Raven mascot was not too preoccupied with his mighty wrath to forget to tip his scout hat to a lady whom he passed. He observed all the scout laws and rules. There were no two ways about anything with Pee-wee. Loyalty meant more than just friendship. It meant confidence, faith.
This staunchness somewhat daunted Roy. It made him feel not quite sure of himself; a little ashamed. But after all it was just Pee-wee’s way; his faith was so strong that he shut his eyes to facts.
Roy went down to the river and got Warde and together they started for the hospital. Warde was glad to go. He said little, for that was his habit. He was quiet and thoughtful.
“That kid almost has me thinking that everybody’s mistaken,” said Roy.
“How?”
“Oh, he’s so dead sure about everything. Don’t you suppose I can be grateful to Blythe even if he–even if he’s crazy.”