“Hurry up with the duck,” Hervey called to Pee-wee; “we’re not going to bother about the fish. Come on, we’re hungry.”
By that time Pee-wee was about half-way across the bridge. “It’s a decoy duck,” he panted out; “it’s—it’s—just made of wood——”
“What?” I shouted.
“What are you talking about?” Garry hollered at him.
“This is no time for joking,” Hervey said. “Hurry up.”
Pee-wee just came along with a kind of a shamefaced look, and I could see that the duck didn’t hang limp.
“It’s made of wood, it’s a decoy duck,” he said.
None of us spoke, we just looked at him.
“Here, take it and see for yourself,” he said to me.
I said, “Scout Harris, alias Raving Raven, alias Animal Cracker, you have done one good turn. You have brought your starving comrades a wooden duck just after they threw the fish into the creek. You have done your worst.”