“What became of the wild cherry jaw-breaker?” Sandy asked him.
“It wasn’t rescued,” I said. “It was never heard of again.”
CHAPTER XVII
TALK IS CHEAP
That time we went, we could see just how the camp was on account of it being daytime. That lean-to thing looked just like I thought it would. But there wasn’t any other tent. There was a place where I thought one had been. I said to the other fellows that I guessed some of the movie people had gone away.
Sandy said, “Well, there’s four of them here anyway.”
Those four were sitting outside the lean-to. There were three kind of young men and a fellow about like us. They were just sitting there like as if they were resting. The three big fellows sat in a row on a board that was laid across a couple of stumps. The boy was sprawled on the ground in front of them. Right near them was a high three-legged thing—you know, like a camera stands on. Jiminies, I’ll say that lean-to did look like a robber’s den all right. The canvas sides of it weren’t there. All the lean-to was that second time we saw it was just a roof sticking out from the side of the chasm, all covered with brush and with brush hanging part way down the three sides of it. As we came near we saw a box standing on a rock—it had pieces of red chalk in it.
Pee-wee whispered to me, he said, “That’s what they use to mark their faces with.”
I said, “Pee-wee is scared of them, now that we’re here.”
“I’ll show you if I am,” the kid said.
With that he marched right up ahead of us and he said, “I bet I know who you are. You’re the moving picture people that are on location here, and I know what on location means. You’re making that play about the Cumberland Mountains.”