“Right?” Harry said.
“Yes, right; that’s what I said,” the kid yelled: “a scout cares about everything that lives. If you were a scout, you’d know that.”
“I?” Harry said.
“Yes, you,” Pee-wee shouted; “I’m not going to help chop down this big tree just to get some gold dust. If you think we’re a gold dust troop, you’re mistaken! We’re scouts, that’s what we are!”
“Goodness me,” Harry said; “you seem to be on the side of the girls now. You and Ann and Grace Bronson——”
“Girls are all right,” Pee-wee shouted; “I know all about girls; I know more about them than you do!”
“I don’t claim to know anything about them,” Harry said; “and I don’t claim to know anything about the scouts, either. I think they’re all crazy.”
“I don’t mind being called crazy,” Grove said.
Harry said, “So, you’re with him, hey?”
“Yes, and I’m with him, too,” I said.