I said, “Come ahead, official staff. What’s the matter with you?”

He said, “Do you know whose house that is? I didn’t know because I never came toward it this way before. It’s Warde Hollister’s house. I can tell by the bay window.”

“That suits me,” I said.

“You’ll—you’ll have to use diplomacy,” Pee-wee said. “I know that fellow.”

“Believe me,” I said, “I’ve got the diploma for diplomacy. You fellows camp right here and leave that fellow to me. Here’s where we not only cross neutral porches, but here’s where we take a prisoner, too. In about ten minutes I’ll have the enemy eating out of my hand.”

“What?” Pee-wee just blurted out.

“Eating out of my hand,” I said. “You know what eating means, don’t you?”

“S——sure I do,” the kid said.

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