Harry Donnelle says he’s going to hike it all the way home to Bridgeboro. He says we can go with him if we want to. Our time is up Saturday, but we’ll have to start three or four days sooner.
He said for me to sound you fellows, but believe me, there’s so much sound that I can’t. I suppose the other patrols will go back down the Hudson in the house-boat. Every fellow that’s in favor of hiking it home with Mr. Harry Donnelle, will say aye—but don’t say it yet. He said to tell you that we take our lives in our hands——
“Why can’t we put them in our duffel bags?” Westy shouted.
“Did you think we’d take them in our feet?” Dorry yelled.
Then they all began shouting, “Aye, aye, aye!” even before I told them about the forests and morasses and jungles and deserts and things. Honest, you can’t do anything with that bunch.
CHAPTER III
UNDAUNTED! (THAT’S PEE-WEE’S HEADING)
One thing about Harry Donnelle, he was a dandy fixer. When he fixed the camouflage for us so we could watch a chipmunk, I knew he was a good fixer. He said he learned how in France. He fixed the chimney on the cooking shack, too. That fellow could fix anything.
But a scoutmaster isn’t so easy to fix. Lots of times I tried to fix it with Mr. Ellsworth and I just couldn’t. He’d make me think that I wanted to do his way. He’s awful funny, he can just make you think that there’s more fun doing things his way. And I was trembling in my shoes—I mean I was trembling in my bare feet—for fear Harry Donnelle wouldn’t be able to fix it with him. But that fellow could fix it with the sun to shine—that’s what Mr. Burroughs said.
Pretty soon he came strolling down to the spring-board where a lot of us were having a dip in the lake.
“All right,” he said, “how about you?”