“You ain’t destitute?”
“Got a little. Why?”
“Well, the camp site costs a dollar a week, but you can work it out, carrying garbage, keeping the camp clean—stuff like that.”
“We’ll work it out,” said Tom.
“You’ll see the committee tomorrow. They’ll show you how to use the camp and tell you the rules.”
Tom said, “Say—what is this? What committee is this, anyways?”
The watchman settled himself back. “Works pretty nice. There’s five sanitary units. Each one elects a Central Committee man. Now that committee makes the laws. What they say goes.”
“S’pose they get tough,” Tom said.
“Well, you can vote ’em out jus’ as quick as you vote ’em in. They’ve done a fine job. Tell you what they did—you know the Holy Roller preachers all the time follow the people around, preachin’ an’ takin’ up collections? Well, they wanted to preach in this camp. And a lot of the older folks wanted them. So it was up to the Central Committee. They went into meeting and here’s how they fixed it. They say, ’Any preacher can preach in this camp. Nobody can take up a collection in this camp.’ And it was kinda sad for the old folks, ’cause there hasn’t been a preacher in since.”
Tom laughed and then he asked, “You mean to say the fellas that runs the camp is jus’ fellas—campin’ here?”