“I can’t find the pesky old ball,” I shouted. “Why don’t you throw straight when you’re throwing? Come on, let’s go to Little Valley and get some ice cream cones. We should worry.”
“I like this old car,” Westy shouted. “If we leave it maybe the wind will carry it up. Let’s tie it with our rope and come back here and eat our supper in it on the way home. After that it can spin around till it gets dizzy for all we care. Wha’d’ you say?”
I could just hear him saying, “Shhh,” to the other fellows.
That’s Westy Martin all over; he always has his wits about him. I’d carry mine around with me, too, if I had any, only I haven’t got any. Sometimes Pee-wee has good ideas, but he doesn’t carry them with him because he has so much else to carry. But Westy has a dandy brain, I’ll say that for him. I saw right away what he was driving at.
“That’s a crackerjack idea,” I shouted. “Let’s eat our supper here on the way back. We’ll tie the car and then we can loosen it again afterwards. Come on, let’s hurry up. This is a nice lonely place to eat in and nobody anywhere around to bother us.”
“Hurrah!” they all shouted.