"I know I'm hungry anyway," Peewee shouted as he threw a suitcase from his vantage point on the platform, with such precision of aim that it landed plunk on Connie Bennett's head, to the infinite amusement of the passengers.
"Did it hurt you?" Peewee called.
"He isn't injured—just slightly killed," Roy shouted; "hurry up, let's go up in the wagon and get there in time for a light lunch."
"You mean a heavy one," Peewee yelled; "here, catch this suitcase."
The suitcase landed on somebody's head, was promptly hurled at somebody else, and the usual pandemonium caused by Temple Camp arrivals prevailed until the entire crowd of scouts found themselves packed in the big camp stage, and waving their hands and shouting uproariously at the passengers in the departing train.
"First season at camp?" Roy asked a scout who almost sat on his lap and was jogged out of place at every turn in the road.
"Yop," was the answer, "we've never been east before; we came from Ohio. We haven't been around anywhere."
"I've been around a lot," the irrepressible Peewee piped up from his wobbly seat on an up-ended suitcase.
"Sure, he was conductor on a merry-go-round," Roy said. "What part of Ohio do you fellows come from?"
"The Ohio River used to be in our geography," Peewee said.