“Aw, gee, Mr. Wilde joshed me so about wearing ‘rompers’ I’m going to stick to my corduroys,” said Ed, springing up, his mind eagerly on breakfast.
“Are you going up to Vulture Cliff this morning, Mr. Wilde?” asked Warde, impatient to know the program of the outing.
“That’s just where I’m going, Mister,” replied Mr. Wilde, busy already with preparations for this hike. “And,” he added, “I hope you young hopefuls put in a lucky day catching plenty of fish for a good meal this evening, because when Billy and I get back here we’ll be hungry enough to eat a hard-boiled rhinoceros.”
“Can’t we go with you?” asked Westy, his face the picture of disappointment.
“Go with us, your grandmother,” grinned Billy heartlessly. “That cliff is no place for little children.”
“I should say not,” added Mr. Wilde. “I can’t be responsible to your mammas if their darling boys fall down and have the buzzards pick their bones. Why, don’t you know a vulture would rather eat a Boy Scout than a dish of ice cream? No, you kids stick around here out of our way where you’re safe and show us what kind of a meal a star scout can cook.”
It was a cruel disappointment to the boys to find that their part in this unique expedition was to be limited to the mere routine of camp duty. This was truly a blow to their expectations and pride, but each was too good a scout to argue or whine. They took this disappointment characteristically: Westy, the sensitive, was hurt. He felt that he had proved himself in the encounter with Bloodhound Pete and was entitled to be trusted in “big” things. He was too proud to say this, however, and only flushed and kept silent. Warde was plainly indignant. Ed, however, although quite as disappointed as the others, accepted it with his usual “I should worry” air.
“Go ahead,” he said jauntily. “You can’t make me mad. I’m just crazy to be kitchen police. If I had a popgun I’d shoot a couple of elephants for a nice little fricassee for your supper. But listen, if you two fall off that cliff, don’t expect me to come running and pick you up.”
As Mr. Wilde and Billy set off, Warde sulked. Westy said, “I don’t think it’s fair, and it’s just our luck to be kept out of big things.”
But Ed said, “Poot! What do you care! I’d just as lieves have a good day’s fishing as monkey around up there on the top of the world trying to get movies of the angels. That ole cliff is too high for this baby! It’s worse than the Woolworth Tower and that always makes me seasick. Come on, let’s go fishing. Maybe we’ll meet a grizzly.”