Now it was easy following that tree until we got down into town. Even then it was easy for a little distance on account of Central Avenue running east and west. We had good luck because our hike straight west down the hill took us right plunk into Central Avenue.
At the beginning of Central Avenue, where it kind of peters out at the foot of our hill, we stopped to make sure it went straight west. Because with a nice, long, straight street like that it’s easy to fool yourself and say it goes straight west when it doesn’t, quite. But Central Avenue did, because away down beyond the other end of it, and away across the river we could see that big tree up on the ridge. Central Avenue doesn’t go all the way through town but we saw that as far as it did go it went straight west. We made good and sure. Because a bee-line hike is no good unless you’re strict about it.
After we had gone a couple of blocks we couldn’t see the tree any more on account of being right in the thick part of town. But we checked our course up with the compass on every corner and everybody crowded around laughing at us, and we had all the kids at our heels.
After we had gone about five blocks on Central Avenue we came to the place where it ends. It bunks right into another street that goes across it. Right across the street from the end of Central Avenue is a big house. There it was staring us right in the face. And right on the porch, plunk in front of the front door was a big fat man, staring us right in the face.
“Foiled!” I said.
“The bee-line goes right through the front door,” Westy said. “That’s just our luck. That’s the kind of a house that has a hall going right through it. The bee-line goes right through that hall and in back is Monument Park.”
“Right through the hall?” I said. “What good does that do us? It goes right through the man!”
“Now’s the time for strategy,” Pee-wee said.
I said, “Don’t break your garter now, whatever you do, or all is lost.”
“We’ve got to have a conference,” he said.