Brent said, “Then he’s just wasting his time making it. Before we send this message we’d better talk it over. If it’s any good we’ll keep it.”
Gee whiz, you should have seen our young hero; I thought he’d jump off the mountain. He yelled, “Do you know what logic is? You get that in the third grade. My uncle knows a man that’s a lawyer and he says—besides—anyway, do you mean to tell me——”
Harry said, “Go on.”
Brent said, “Proceed; we follow you.”
“Suppose I had a piece of pie,” the kid yelled. “If it was good I’d eat it, wouldn’t I?”
Brent said, “That isn’t logic.”
“Sure it’s logic!” Pee-wee shouted. “The better it is the more I’d get rid of, wouldn’t I?”
“Thou never spakest a truer word,” I told him.
“And it’s the same with messages,” he said.
I said, “Good night, you don’t want to eat it, do you?”