“Stand aside and let these boys pass, in the name of the Girl Scouts of America!”
G-o-o-d night, as sure as I’m writing this, that great big colored man stood out of the way and in she marched waving Pee-wee’s belt-axe. We all followed after her, kind of scary.
“You’d—you’d better look out,” Pee-wee whispered to her. “He can lock us in here and have us all arrested. Maybe—you can’t tell—maybe he meditates treachery. What—what are you going to do?”
“We’re going to devastate his country, Private Canary Bird Pee-wee,” she said. “Now you see what the Girl Scouts of America can do. Maybe sometime you’ll want to know how to break through hostile territory and then you’ll remember Dora Dane Daring, won’t you? Do you think I’m afraid of a butler?”
“You’d—you’d better look out,” Pee-wee said; “safety first.”
As we went through the hall he kept looking all around as if he expected to see sharpshooters behind all the doors. It was a dandy house, with a nice big wide hall and it had a moose’s head for a hat rack. First I guess we were all pretty scared.
The kid walked on tiptoe through the hall, and he kept whispering to me, “This is just like—it’s just like burglary. Girls are reckless. We’d better look out. Do you hear a footstep upstairs? I hear a bell ringing. I bet he’s calling up the police, hey?”
That girl led the way into a dandy big dining room and then all her friends began laughing again.