"You're jealous because he's a genius," Connie said; "and you want to fill him up with grandmother stuff. Why don't you let the kid alone? We'll take care of him."
"All right," I said; "I should worry. Only there's no use getting mad; we're all one troop."
"Yes, but we're three separate patrols," he said.
"United we stand, divided we sprawl," I said. Then he walked away. That was the second day at Poughkeepsie and most all day the Elks were busy turning Skinny into a fish. Some of the rest of us went up to Metzger's Candy Store to get some jaw-breakers. Did you ever eat those? Pee-wee was quiet for an hour munching one. The licorice ones are best. In the afternoon we sat along the cabin roof watching Skinny and the Elks. Good night, you should have seen that kid! Every time the fellows in the boat had to row after him, because he'd go swimming away on his own hook. He never paid any attention to what they told him.
"Throw him a jaw-breaker," Grove Bronson said; "just for fun."
"Nix," I said; "you don't catch me interfering with the buzz-saw. Twice was enough. When I try any polishing, I'll polish up the Silver Foxes."
"Go ahead, throw him one," Grove said to Pee-wee. But I guess Pee-wee didn't have any jawbreakers to spare. His cheeks were sticking out and there was licorice all over his lips, and he said—this is the way it sounded: "I—ooo—go—to—goo—to—are—" something like that, honest.
"Go in and wash your face," Doc said; "you look like a minstrel actor in a rainstorm."
"Yu—sht—p—m—nd—r—n—business." Pee-wee blurted out. Crackey, I thought I'd die.
Pretty soon Doc Carson (he's a Raven) threw a jaw-breaker out into the water and Skinny got it before it went down.