All the while, Pee-wee was wriggling his neck in his collar and shifting from one foot to another and trying to catch Harry’s eye.
“The manner in which these young scouts were able to recover your valuables, Mrs. West,” Harry went on, very sober in that funny way of his, “is truly remarkable. I was not with them when they discovered the first clew—I think it was a shock absorber; was it not, Walter? But I am glad that I can share in the honor which is his—and theirs. The Boy Scouts are nothing less than wonderful, Mrs. West. Their great accuracy of vision—— But I will let the Miracle Man tell you in his own words. Come Pee-wee.”
I think Pee-wee would have killed Harry Donnelle if he had had him alone. He just stood there, scowling and shifting, and then he began.
He said, “Well, I’ll tell you how it is about the Boy Scouts. They make some dandy mistakes. Other fellers don’t make such good mistakes—see? You have to admit that there are good mistakes, don’t you?”
“Oh, positively,” Harry said.
Mrs. West whispered to her daughter, “Isn’t he too cute?”
“Some of the worst things that ever happened are good, aren’t they?” the kid went on. I could hardly keep a straight face. “Suppose a house burns down. That isn’t good is it?”
“We follow you,” Harry said.
“But if somebody gets rescued, that’s good.”
“Oh, it’s splendid,” Elsa West said.