“You turn in this road,” Pee-wee shouted.
“No, you don’t,” Grove said; “wait a minute, yes, you do.”
“Oh, goody, goody, goody!” I began shouting. “Everybody’s wrong, as usual, except me—I mean I. There’s the machine now; look between those two houses. A scout is observant.”
In the dark we could see across a lawn between two houses, and there was the car, sure enough.
“Go up to the next road,” I said, “and turn in.”
“Anything you say,” Brent laughed.
“For a minute I didn’t know where I was at,” Grove said.
He drove around into the road where the car was standing and right up to it and then got out. The flivver looked awful funny alongside it.
“Some Cadillac!” he said.
“Isn’t it a peachy car?” Pee-wee asked him. “Isn’t it a beaut? Look at those shock-absorbers. Feel the leather on those seats—boy, boy!” Gee whiz, you’d think the kid was trying to sell the car.