“In the dead of night,” Pee-wee said; “that’s the way Captain Kidd used to do.”
Harry said, “I don’t think the night is likely to be very dead with this bunch around. It might get sick though.”
“Good night, I wouldn’t blame it if it did,” I told him.
“We’ll make torches, hey?” Pee-wee said, all excited.
“Have we got anything to strain the gold in?” Harry asked. “You’re the property man, Pee-wee.”
“I got the coffee strainer from the kitchen,” the kid said; “I brought a rolling-pin, too. Because you know sometimes they roll gold.”
“You should have brought a couple of dishes along, in case we should want to plate it,” Harry said, all the while laughing. I guess you know by this time that we were all crazy—not exactly crazy, but insane. We should worry.
Steuben Junction was about as big as New York. I mean New York before Columbus landed. It was so big, you could have it sent home C. O. D., but anyway, there was a nice man there; he was the man that kept the station. He gave us a letter that Brent Gaylong had left with him—gee whiz, it sounded just like Brent.
This is what it said, because I kept it:
On board Good Ship