“This is what I mean,” he said. “Last night while I was lying in bed, I was wondering what kind of a hike we could take that the management wouldn’t object to. See? They’re going to be very particular now. So I thought if we went and told one of the trustees that we’re going to take a little—you know, just a little stroll.”
“A ramble,” I said.
“Just to the place where the West Shore tracks come together up the line, why there won’t be any objection because they can see themselves just where that is. It doesn’t look to me to be more than a mile away. We’ll promise to turn back as soon as we get there. Hey?”
“Oh, the very minute we get there,” I said. Then he said, “All right, come on, let’s get Brent and Pee-wee.”
When we found Brent he said very solemn-like that he thought it was a good idea because when you hike it’s always good to have a destination even if you don’t use it.
“Sure, they come in handy,” I told him. “And patent, adjustable destinations are the best kind. Look at Columbus how he started for Asia and bunked into the West Indies—he should worry. We’re like him only different.”
So then we waited for Pee-wee. He always takes longer at breakfast than anybody else, because he has three helpings of oatmeal. By the time he finishes they have the boards all cleared. Pretty soon he came out. Brent and Hervey and I were sitting on the lowest step of the pavilion porch waiting for him. Brent looked at him very solemn over his spectacles and said:
“Sir Harris, we’re organizing an enterprise to go on a dangerous exploring expedition. Warde is going stalking so he can’t join us. Would you care to join your comrades of yesterday in a most interesting quest? We’re going straight to the point.”
“What point?” Pee-wee wanted to know.
“Ah, that’s the question,” Brent said.