Just then it turned in and crossed the sidewalk and disappeared. Westy and I just stopped and stood there panting and staring at each other.
“What—do—you—know—about—that?” I just blurted out.
“Slausen’s,” he said, all out of breath.
“Sure,” I said; “that’s Charlie Slausen.”
CHAPTER XV—A SCOUT'S HONOR
I knew that fellow in school and I never had much use for him. He graduated when I was in the primary. At recess he used to take our marbles, just to make us mad. And after we started our troop he used to call us the boy sprouts. I guess he thought he was funny. Harry Domicile hasn’t got much use for him either, and you bet your life Harry Domicile knows.
“Gee, I didn’t think he’d do that,” Westy said.
“Come ahead,” I told him; “he won’t get away with it anyway.”
We went right up to the garage and I walked straight inside. The men had gone home and it was all dark except for the headlights on Charlie’s car. It wasn’t his, it was his father’s. But he told all the girls it was his. He was just stepping out and I went right up to him, because Westy was so kind of ashamed that any one would do such a thing that he just couldn’t speak of it. He’s a dandy fellow, Westy is.
I said, “Will you please give us the flashlight that you took?”