“How do you explain it?” he asked me, all excited.
“I don’t explain it,” I said; “but I know one thing, and that is, I’m going to get back and tell Harry as soon as I can, before the whole crew of us are arrested. Harry’s going to have a mechanic look the car over this morning. Suppose that mechanic should——”
That was enough for Pee-wee; he started up the street scout-pace, and I guess he must have been pretty excited, because he passed right by an old empty sardine box and didn’t even bother to pick it up.
CHAPTER XIV—WE ARE CRIMINALS
When I got to the hotel sheds, there was Pee-wee standing all out of breath, and Harry and all the rest of them standing around, gaping. Brent was laughing so hard he couldn’t speak, and Harry was saying, “Some scout! Some bullhead!”
“What’s the matter?” I said.
“Look in—look in—look in—side—it!” Pee-wee panted, “the back—seat.”
“It isn’t my car at all,” Harry said, “it’s got a New York license. If it hadn’t been for that old tin can of yours stopping every ten feet last night I could have got a squint at the tail-light. Smiled at it, huh? You smiled at the wrong car. You started somebody else’s motor.”
“It’s a nineteen-twenty touring Cadillac,” Brent said, laughing all the while; “Pee-wee was the first to get in it. He showed me the nice leather seats and the shock-absorbers.”
“We’ll need some shock-absorbers before the day’s out, I’m thinking,” Harry said; “this is some swell scout outfit—not! Got into the wrong car! Look up the street and see if you see the sheriff coming. Pee-wee, don’t ever mention the name of scout to me again. ‘A scout is observant!’ Excuse me, while I smile.”