“You should worry,” I told him.
“Only I don’t look very presentable,” he said.
“Don’t you care,” I said; “we won’t meet anybody along this road.”
“It’s the least of my troubles,” he said; “what I’m thinking about is this pesky engine. It jumps like a bull-frog; I think it’s got the pip.”
Pee-wee said, “Some engines have the sleeping sickness and they won’t go at all.”
Then we all got to saying how we hoped that Harry and Rossie and Tom would get the three cars to Grumpy’s Cross-roads in time so those actor people could give their show.
“Even if we’re not with them,” I said.
“I guess we’ll be able to make connections before they get there,” Brent said.
“Oh, boy, that’ll be some good turn,” Pee-wee said. “I bet old Grump won’t be mad at the scouts any more; he’ll see that they’re dauntless and—something or other.”
“Oh, he’ll see that they’re something or other,” Brent said. “I never knew a scout that wasn’t something or other.”