She just stood there a few seconds, kind of trying to make up her mind. “You think I’m afraid,” she said.
“I don’t think you’re afraid,” I told her. Pee-wee started to speak and I told him to keep still. “But what’s the good of taking a chance and getting your dress all torn?”
She just said, very stubborn like, “I want to go and I do think you’re mean if you don’t let me. I’m a scout as much as you are. You think I’m a coward. Do you think I want to go back to the village and finish a tennis tournament after seeing the things you do?” She was almost crying. I knew if she started to cry we’d have to let her go.
I said, “You claim you’re a good scout and I say you’re as good a one as I ever saw. You saved a scout’s life by doing a good turn and I guess that’s enough. But the principal thing about scouting is to finish what you begin. That’s why we’re here. It doesn’t make any difference whether it’s a hike or a dinner or a—tournament or what. If you begin it you’ve got to finish it. If you’re a quitter you’re no scout. Maybe you like to risk your life and I know you don’t risk your life playing tennis. But just the same that’s your bee-line hike for to-day.”
“I hate tennis,” she said.
I said, “Yes, but you don’t hate bee-line hikes and if you’re supposed to be in a tournament to-day then that’s your bee-line hike. And if you don’t finish your hike you’re a quitter. See?”
“I’m not a quitter,” she said.
“I know you’re not,” I told her. “So you’re going back to finish the tournament and get some practice because to-morrow afternoon I’m coming over to Little Valley to beat you.”