“Save two or three, then you’ll be sure,” Sandy said.
“Don’t you pay any attention to them,” the kid shouted. “Just because they don’t keep their eyes open that doesn’t mean you can’t find a chance to save life and be a hero and get a hundred dollars. You stay with me and I bet you inside of a week you’ll see somebody that needs to get his life saved. On the lake, that’s where you want to stay. You stick with me and I’ll show you. Gee whiz, if you want to stay at Temple Camp and be kind of partners with us you can do it, that’s easy.”
“Sure,” I said, “Scouts risk their lives every evening with matinees on Saturdays and holidays. Just say what kind of a life you’d like to save and the fixer will fix it for you. Did you ever hear the poetry Brent Gaylong made about him?” I said. I guess you fellows that are reading this story never heard it either. Everybody at Temple Camp knows it.
His middle name is Hunter’s Stew,
He mixes it.
In mixing he can sure outdo,
All other Scouts he ever knew,
And when a thing goes all askew,
He fixes it.
Pee-wee shouted, “Do you bet I can’t show you how to save a life? Do you bet I can’t fix it so you can stay here—do you bet? Even I know some rattlesnakes, where they live—”
“You can’t get the reward for saving a rattlesnake’s life,” I said.
“Will you shut up!” he hollered at me. “I know where they live—a whole nest of them.”
“Why did you never tell me this?” I asked him.
“Because you’re a big fool and will you keep still while I’m talking, doing a good turn to help a brother Scout like it says you’ve got to do a lot you know about it making fun of the handbook—will you shut up!”
“I can’t shut up twice at the same time, can I?” I said.