So we decided that we wouldn't send any telegrams or anything, and that we'd stay right there in Brewster's Centre Station till the railroad took us away and put us where we belonged. We said it was up to them. Westy's mother knew he had his "eats" outfit along, and I guess all our families knew about there being a stove and coal in the car. Anyway, you can bet that scouts' mothers don't worry about them when they're away. Gee whiz, my mother worries more about me when I'm home, because I always eat a lot of pie and cake when I'm home. And I'm always using the 'phone.
We all said it would be a lot of fun to camp out in that car and to just not pay any attention to what had happened. When we got home, we'd be home. We decided on some poetry that we'd send to the Bridgeboro News when we got back. It isn't much good, but anyway, this is it:
We started out to wander,
We didn't mean to roam.
We're here because we're here,
And when we're home we're home.
We hope they'll come and get us,
But we're not in a hurry.
We've got forty-two cents and a movie outfit,
We should worry.
That isn't much good, is it? Anyway, we decided that the next thing to do was to find out if there was a town anywhere around. There wasn't any railroad station, that was sure. Now all the time that we were having that rumpus in the car, those men stood over there on the platform in front of that store, staring and staring and staring.
Pretty soon they all came over and the man with one suspender said, "Thar be'nt no growed-up man along o' you youngsters, be there?"
Westy told him no.
Then he looked us all over, very easy like, and he said, "Yer chorin' on the railroad?"
I said, "We're boy sprouts and this is Brewster's Centre."
He said, "Brewster's Centre? Whar?"