Best wishes to you.
John Temple.
Oh, boy, isn't he a peach of a man? I bet we hiked up to Brewster's Centre a dozen times before Friday. I guess Pee-wee thought the station would run away. He couldn't even wait till it got down to Bridgeboro, but asked the girl ticket agent if it would be all right for him to bring some things up, and good night! he showed up Thursday afternoon with his moving picture outfit and a lot of other stuff.
On Friday morning the new station was opened. It had a nice little ticket office for the girl to read novels in. So on Friday afternoon we all went up and took the boarding away from under the car and piled it inside, because we thought we might use it again. The part that was boarded off for a ticket office was at one end, and in the other part the seats were left just the same as in a regular car. It was nice in there, especially for meetings where somebody had to talk to us, only in our troop most always everybody is talking at once, especially Pee-wee. He talks so fast that he interrupts himself.
After we got the windows washed and the boards from underneath piled inside and the little ticket office all cleaned out, it was about six o'clock. Westy Martin (he's in my patrol) said it would be a lot of fun for some of us to stay and come down in the car.
"I'll stay!" Pee-wee shouted.
"How about you?" Westy asked me.
I said: "We're going to have apple turnovers for dessert to-night, but I should worry, I'll stay."
Most of the fellows had to go home on account of their lessons, but I didn't have any lessons, because my teacher had to go to a lecture. That's the only thing I like about lectures. Westy always does his lessons right after school, before he goes out. Then in case he gets killed his lessons are done. He's a careful kid. Anyway, all of us hate to do lessons on Saturday, because that's scouting day.
The fellows that said they'd stay were Pee-wee Harris and Wig-Wag Weigand (they're both raving Ravens), and Connie Bennett of the Elks (he wears glasses), and Westy Martin, and dear little Roy Blakeley, that's me. I use glasses, too—when I drink ice-cream sodas. The rest of the troop went home and they said they'd all be down at the siding near the Bridgeboro Station early in the morning.