"You make me sick," Pee-wee said.
"I'd feel the same way about a flivver," I said.
"If you took a flivver, that wouldn't be stealing," Connie said; "it would be shoplifting."
"Sure, or pickpocketing," Wig said.
"Do you know the only way to tell if a man has a Ford?" I asked Pee-wee. "Search him. Look how the sun is going down."
The Brewster's Centre sign was all bright on account of the sun setting. It was getting dark and kind of cold and it made me homesick, sort of. It seemed funny to see that car standing there across that strange road, with the lake on one side and the thick woods on the other. The woods were beginning to look dark and gloomy, and the arm of the lake was all steel color. I was glad on account of that sign, because it seemed friendly, like. That's one thing about an automobile, it doesn't seem friendly, like. But boats do. And the old car did, that was one sure thing.
Mostly scouts don't care much about railroads, because they like the water and they like to hike. But anyway, that old car was friendly. Especially it seemed friendly on account of the sun going down and the day beginning to die and it getting cold. You can talk about boats and motorcycles and tents and leaf shelters and all those things, but anyway, none of them were as good as that old car. And don't you forget, either, that it was Westy that saved it for us. If it hadn't been for him, it would have been in the lake.
He's one real scout, Westy is.