TOMBOY
For about five seconds my blood ran cold. I kind of seemed to see everything just as if I were dreaming. Then I noticed that all the fellows were hanging on to the rope. And I saw that Will and Dorry hadn’t gone away. I saw that the rope was tight, down over the edge of the hill and across and over the edge of the shelf. I knew that Warde Hollister must be hanging on to the end of that rope. He wasn’t trusting his life to any old weeds now. That rope was held by scouts and he should worry. And we should worry, too, because by that time we knew Warde and we knew he wouldn’t let go.
I just jumped up and down shouting, “Hurrah, hurrah!” I couldn’t help it. It seemed awful funny for seven fellows to be holding one up, but Warde had come so near to death that I guessthey wanted to make saving him double sure. Even Pee-wee was tugging on the rope with both hands, his cheeks all puffed out. The girl just stood there panting and laughing.
She said, “What’s on the other end of that rope? An elephant?”
I just went right up to her and I said, “Dora Dane Daring, on the other end of that rope is the best scout in the western hemispheres, including Flatbush andHoboken—the best scout with one exception, and that exception is you.”
She said, “Oh, isn’t it just toofunnyto see that little Pee-wee pulling on the rope? Oh,dear! I could just kiss him. I’d runtwomiles to see that!”
I said, “Tell me——”
“You finish before I tell you anything,” she said. “Did I save the bee-line hike?”
“Did you!” I said. “You saved a fellow’s life too. You’re going to get a hero medal if I have to go over to National Headquarters and see Mr. National personally. Meanwhile you can kiss Pee-wee six times if you want to.”
“Look over the edge and see if the rope is chafing, Roy,” Westy said to me.
“I’ll do more than that,” I said. “I’ll go down there and stuff a jacket under it. Give me a jacket, somebody.” I was feeling so happy I didn’t care what I said or did.
The fellows got beside a tree so that the rope went part way around the trunk. That way they could pass it out easily. We were sure of the rope, that was one thing.Hemp—you’ve got to go some to break that. That was no clothesline. Backyard ropes are all right, but not for scouts.
“Don’t take any chances,” Westy said. “Just look and see if it’s chafing on the edge.”
“If it is, tell me,” Pee-wee puffed out.
“Let it down slowly,” Warde called. “What are you waiting for? It’s all right down here.”
There were only two places where that rope could rub; those were on the top of the wall right near us and down on the edge of the shelf. We knew it was all right below that on account of what Warde had said. In both of those places the rope went over clumps of bushes and moss. No rope will stand rubbing all the time, but all we had to do was to let it down to the bottom and we knew it would stand that much rubbing.
So we just passed it out little by little and prettysoon it was slack. Then we could hear Warde calling from away down below.
“All right,” I shouted; “We’ll be down pretty soon. Take a rest.”
We tied the rope good and fast to the tree and then I said to Will and Dorry, “How far did you go when you started from here?”
“Not more than ten or twenty feet,” Dorry said.
“Then the bee-line hike is saved!” I said.
Dora said, “Oh, I’m so glad. I wondered how you’deverget down the cliff. When the men came back from Riverview Park they had that horrid bandit withthem—just think!”
“What did I tell you?” Pee-wee said.
She said, “Oh, I think it was just wonderful how you fastened him there——”
“Without the loss of a single life,” the kid shouted.
She said, “And when I saw that villainous creature and thought how you hadreally caughthim, and when I saw the men had your rope, I was juststricken with remorsefor the way we girls fooled you. I said, ‘I’m just going to run after them and take their rope so their hike won’t be spoiled.’ Because I thought you’d need it. So you’ll forgive me, won’t you, for pretending to be so brave when all the time it was my own house? You will, won’t you?”
I said, “I don’t know much about the girl scouts except that they giggle a lot but I’ll say this much, they know how to run and when it comes to good turns——”
“Will you let meproveI’m a scout? A real one?”
I said, “You’re as real as real estate. All you have to do is say what you want.”
She said, “Will you let me climb down that rope and go with you, and finish the bee-line hike with you?”
“G-o-o-d night!” I said.
Table of Contents
BEE-LINES AND THINGS
Gee whiz, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to tell her that I was afraid she couldn’t do it. But we had just seen one narrow escape and I didn’t want her to take any chances.
I said, “If you think we’re mean, we’ll say yes, you can go with us. Because we owe you a lot, that’s sure. I’d rather give up the whole thing than be mean about it. And I think you’re just as good at doing things as we are. But we wouldn’t do this ourselves if we weren’t already in for it. Our clothes are all torn already from going over roofs and climbing on those ferris-wheel cars, and you’ll only get your dress all torn and what’s the use?”
She just stood there a few seconds, kind of trying to make up her mind. “You think I’m afraid,” she said.
“Idon’tthink you’re afraid,” I told her. Pee-wee started to speak and I told him to keep still. “But what’s the good of taking a chance and getting your dress all torn?”
She just said, very stubborn like, “I want to go and Idothink you’re mean if you don’t let me. I’m a scout as much as you are. You think I’m a coward. Do you think I want to go back to the village and finish a tennis tournament after seeing the things you do?” She was almost crying. I knew if she started to cry we’d have to let her go.
I said, “You claim you’re a good scout and I say you’re as good a one as I ever saw. You saved a scout’s life by doing a good turn and I guess that’s enough. But the principal thing about scouting is to finish what you begin. That’s why we’re here. It doesn’t make any difference whether it’s a hike or a dinner ora—tournament or what. If you begin it you’ve got to finish it. If you’re a quitter you’re no scout. Maybe you like to risk your life and I know you don’t risk your life playing tennis. But just the same that’syourbee-line hike for to-day.”
“Ihatetennis,” she said.
I said, “Yes, but you don’t hate bee-line hikes and if you’re supposed to be in a tournament to-day then that’s your bee-line hike. And if you don’t finish your hike you’re a quitter. See?”
“I’mnota quitter,” she said.
“I know you’re not,” I told her. “So you’re going back to finish the tournament and get some practice because to-morrow afternoon I’m coming over to Little Valley to beat you.”
“Playing tennis?” she said.
“That’s what,” I told her.
“I can beat you with my left hand,” she said.
“All right,” I said, “I’m coming over to-morrow to find out. You go home and practice. You finish your bee-line hike and we’ll finish ours and to-morrow afternoon at two o’clock——”
“Will you be sure to be there?” she said.
“Positively guaranteed,” I told her. “Good-by.”
“Why don’t you say ‘so long’ like you do to boys?” she wanted to know.
“So long, see you later,” I called.
She was awful funny, that girl.
Table of Contents
FROGS AND HATS
One by one we let ourselves down that rope. The only hard part was keeping hold where it went over the edge of the slanting shelf. The cliff was sheer up and down just like Warde had said. But that was the end of our troubles with Nature. Gee whiz, I can get along with Nature all right, but when it comes tofarmers—just you wait.
We were mighty glad to see Warde all safe and sound. I said, “Warde, you’re the gamest scout that ever lived, but you’re reckless. If we had stopped to think we would never have let you go down on that shelf.”
He said, “I’m not a scout yet, remember.”
“Remember nothing,” I told him. “If you keep on, and live through it, I’ll have an Eagle Scout in my patrol, I can see that.”
“You’re never killed till you’re killed,” Warde said.
“You have to thank that Daring girl,” I said. And then we told him all about it.
“Don’t ever give up, that’s the thing,” Dorry said.
“Do you know who you remind me of?” Pee-wee asked Warde. We were all sitting around on the rocks at the foot of the cliff, taking a rest.
“No, who?” Warde asked him.
“A frog,” the kid said.
“Afrog?” I asked him.
“Sure,” he said; “a frog in a story.”
“I’d be pleased to meet him,” Warde said.
“There were two frogs,” the kid said, “and they were out for a walk, and do you know how one of them didn’t get killed?”
“Break it to us gently,” I said.
“They fell into a bucket of cream,” the kid said.
“Was it ice cream?” Hunt asked him.
“It was rich cream,” the kid said.
“It was wealthy cream,” I said; “go ahead.”
“They started to drown,” the kid said, “and one of them got discouraged and lost his nerve and didn’t try to swim any more and he was drowned.”
“Very sad,” Westy said.
“The other one kept swimming and swimming and kicking and kicking,” the kid said, “and do you know what happened?”
“Can’t imagine,” Warde said.
“Just by kicking and kicking,” the kid said, “he churned some of that cream into butter and pretty soon he was standing all safe on a little island of butter. So that’s what he got for not giving up.”
“Did he tell you that himself?” I asked him.
“You make me tired,” he shouted.
Westy said, “Well, this isn’t getting us up the ridge, is it? What do you say we start?”
I said to the kid, “Are you sure that was real butter, or was it just butterine? The Island of Butterine, discovered by a frog scout of the Pollywog Patrol.”
“If we start jollying Pee-wee we’ll never get up the ridge,” one of the fellows said. So then we started.
Now from the desert island of Butterine (just under the cliff) to the ridge was maybe as much as a half a mile. For a little way the land was flat and open and then the ridge began. Wewould have to go up the side of the ridge. What I mean by a ridge is a long hill, oh, as much as several miles long. We knew a road ran along on the top of that ridge. For a little way we could see the big tree up there. Then, as we came closer to the ridge we couldn’t see it on account of the woods.
Now the next adventure we had was before we came to the base of the ridge. I told you there were open fields and the railroad ran north and south. Until we reached the tracks we could see the tree. Pretty soon after that we had to use our compass going up through the woods on the ridge.
All along in the fields beside that railroad track were big wooden signs telling people what they should buy. The country would look better if those big signs were not there. You know the kind of signs Imean—the kind you see when you’re riding in the train. One of them says everybody should want to make his home beautiful, so he should buy a certain kind of paint, because beauty is what counts. If the man that owns that sign is worrying so much about thingsbeing beautiful I should think he’d take that sign down.
One of these signs was very big and it happened to be right in our path. It says, “Brown’s hats are always on top.” Maybe that’s a joke, kind of. We crossed the tracks and then about a hundred feet farther was the sign. There was a man there who was just finishing doing some painting on it. He had a stepladder and a can of paint and things, and he had a camera, too.
“Maybe that’s Mr. Brown,” the kid said.
“More likely it’s Mr. Hat,” I said.
Then I said, “Hey, mister, we’re on a bee-line hike and we’d like to go right under that sign if you don’t mind.”
He said, “Under or over, suit yourselves. The world belongs to the boy scouts.”
“Let’s climb up the ladder and go over,” Westy said.
I said, “No sooner said than stung. Over the top for us.”
The man laughed; he was a good-natured man. So we all climbed up on the ladder, one after another, and while we were waiting for the man to carry it around to the back of the sign we all sat in a row on top. Right underneath us were painted the words “Always on top.” I made a picture of that sign with all of us sitting on the top of it. The one in the middle is Pee-wee.
Pretty soon the man began laughing and he called up, “That’s very good, all sit just where you are a minute. That puts a dash of pep into the ad. Scouts always on top, eh?”
“What’s he going to do?” Pee-wee said.
“He’s going to take a picture of the ad with us in it,” Westy said.
I guess we must have looked pretty funny from down below; anyway the man kept laughing.The way Pee-wee sat there was enough to make any one laugh. He looked as if he thought he was famous already.
The man called, “Just sit naturally and laugh.”
“That’s easy,” I told him; “laughing is our middle name.”
“All right,” he called.
Then he got behind his camera and held out his hand for us to keep still.
“What are you going to do with it?” one of us called down to him.
He said, “Well, pictures of this ad are used for all sorts ofthings—hat boxes, everything. Your faces will go all over the country.”
“Mine?” Pee-wee shouted.
“Yes, and very likely we’ll use this idea for the big signs too,” the man said. “We might have some wood cut-outs for scouts. How would that be?”
“Not for this patrol,” I shouted down. “We’re not wooden scouts.”
“Are we a part of the ad?” the kid shouted.
The man said, “That’s what you are. Always on top like Brown’s hats, eh? Now I’ll tell you what you boys do, if you’re not in too much of a hurry. You just sit up there till the next train goes by. I’ve got to hustle to Addison station to catch that train. Our advertising man, Mr. Bull, will be on it and he’ll see just how the sign looks with you youngsters on it. I dare say he’ll reward you.”
“We should worry about rewards,” I said. “We’re part of an ad, that’s enough for us. We’ll sit here if the train isn’t too long coming.”
He said, “Well, you suit yourselves about that, but you’ve given me an idea and I’m much obliged to you. I think we’ll use the scouts-on-top idea.”
“We’re like Brown’s hats, hey?” Pee-wee shouted.
“That’s it,” the man said.
“Pee-wee’s like a soft hat, he’s young and tender,” Hunt said.
“Sure,” I said; “you’re the tallest one, you’re a high-hat.”
Dorry grabbed the top of the sign because the breeze was blowing a little. “I hope I don’t blow off like some hats,” he said.
The painter went away and we all sat there singing:
“Nine little boy scouts,Asked to sit and wait.One of them got blown off,Then there were eight.”
“Nine little boy scouts,Asked to sit and wait.One of them got blown off,Then there were eight.”
Table of Contents
A LITTLE BIT OFF THE TOP
We liked that verse so much that we made another one.
“Eight little boy scouts,Glad there ain’t eleven.One of them fell backward,Then there were seven.”
“Eight little boy scouts,Glad there ain’t eleven.One of them fell backward,Then there were seven.”
Westy said, “If they have a row of wooden scouts up here with the wordsalways on topunderneath, that will make a good ad, hey? I wonder how much they’d pay us to sit here all the time?”
“Labor is very high,” I said; “about ten feet up. Maybe they’d give us some hats.”
“Everything is going up,” Westy said; “let’s go down.”
“Wait till the train goes by,” I said. “I’d like Mr. Cow to see us, or whatever his name is.”
Then Westy began singing:
“Oh, boy scouts they were nineThey were sitting on a sign.”
“Oh, boy scouts they were nineThey were sitting on a sign.”
Then Dorry started,
“They do not fear a cop,They always are on top.”
“They do not fear a cop,They always are on top.”
And then I sung out,
“They ought to cross the flats,But they’re advertising hats.”
“They ought to cross the flats,But they’re advertising hats.”
Then Pee-wee started yelling,
“Oh, Mr. Bull,Your ad is fullOf scouts and bull.”
“Oh, Mr. Bull,Your ad is fullOf scouts and bull.”
“We ought to get a dollar an hour for this,” Warde said.
I said, “Aren’t you satisfied? Haven’t we made you famous? Right away you want to pass the plate.”
“You mean the hat,” Westy said.
“This is the Brown’s Hat Patrol,” Will said. “They’re superstitious, they believe in signs.”
“Listen, here comes the train,” somebody said.
“Sit up and look pretty,” Dorry shouted.
“We’ve got all the signs on Broadway beaten,” Hunt said.
“Sure,” I said, “this is a live sign, full of pep. All sit up straight when the train passes. Remember Mr. Wild Bull is in there. Maybe he’ll give us a job on a sign up on top of a building in New York. I’d like to be an electric sign, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d rather be a sign of spring,” Westy said.
“You’ll be pushed over backwards if you crack another one like that,” I told him.
“Look at Pee-wee,” Dorry said.
I had to laugh at the kid. There he sat right in the middle, straight upright, with his hand up making the full scout salute as the train came along. He looked like a little radiator ornament for an automobile. I guess he felt very proud being part of an ad.
As the train went past all the passengers looked out of the windows, laughing. The more they laughed the straighter Pee-wee sat. All of a sudden,good night, over he went backwards, kerflop, into the marshy land just underneath the sign. All the people in the train howled.
He came up the ladder, with mud and grass all over him, just in time for the people in the last two cars to get a look at him. They just screamed. They even came out on the back platform of the last car, cheering him and laughing at him.
“I—I bet I sold as many as a hundred hats doing that,” he said.
I said, “Good night, was that a part of the ad? You look more like an ad for bathing suits than for hats.”
He climbed back into his place pulling the wet grass from his face and clothes.
“That’s the time you weren’t on top,” I said. “I hope Mr. Wild Bull didn’t see you.”
“Here comes a man across the field,” Dorry said.
I looked around behind me and saw a man with a great big straw hat and a shirt like a checker-board coming across the field. It seemed as if he was all shirt and hat and suspenders.
“I think there’s going to be something doing,” Westy said. “I can feel it in the air.”
“Thank goodness, we’re on top,” I said.
Table of Contents
LOGIC
The man came around in front of the sign and looked up and said, “Well, now, what do you youngsters think you’re doing here?”
I said, “Well, we’re not so sure but wethinkwe’re sitting here.”
He said, “Anybody give you permission to come on this land?”
Westy said, “No, but we know lots of people cross here and we thought it was all right. We always heard this was a short-cut to Addison.”
Then he asked us if we were going to Addison.
Westy said, “No, but it’s just the same crossing your land in one place as another. You can’t blame us for thinking it was all right.”
The man said, “Well, ’tain’t right, by no manner o’ means. You’re trespassin’, that’s what you’re doing.”
Dorry said, “We’re sorry.”
The man said, “Well, so’m I, because I’m goin’ to make an example of you, that’s what I’m goin’ to do. I’m goin’ to learn you a lesson.”
I said, “No lessons, this is vacation.”
He said, “Haow?”
Westy said, “We’re sorry, we can’t do any more than say that. We thought it was all right. I don’t see what harm we do.”
“Well, you’ll find out,” the man said, good and cross.
All of a sudden Pee-wee shouted down at him, “Anyway, we’re not on your land, we’re on this sign. Has the sign got a right here?”
The man said, “Well, you youngsters, the people that pay me to let this sign stand here don’t pay me to let you climb all over it. Now you come down off there, every one of you, and we’ll see what’s what. We’ll see what the jedge has to say.”
“Don’t go down,” Dorry whispered.
“That shows how much you know about law,” Pee-wee shouted down. “My uncle’s got a friend who’s a lawyer. If this sign has a right here we have a right here because we’re part of the sign. You can, ask Mr. Bull who works for Brown’s Hats if we’re not. Do you see what it says on this sign? Always on top? That means us. It means us just as much as the hats. We belong here, so there.”
The man said, “Haow did you get here without trespassin’?”
I said, “That isn’t the question. We’re here because we’re here. The question is has the sign got a right to be here?”
“Sure,” Pee-wee yelled down, “that’s logic.” He looked awful funny sitting up there and shouting down at the man. “Suppose a thing has a right to be in a place but the people that own that thing don’t own the place. If you’re on the thing——”
“You ain’t got no right there,” the man shouted up.
“Lift the ladder up,” Westy said.
“Sure, that’s strategy,” Pee-wee said.
So we hauled the ladder up out of the man’s reach.
“Do you admit that somebody can own a place that has a thing on it that belongs to somebody else that has something on it——”
“Shut up,” I said. Then I said to the man, “It says on this sign that we’re on top. You see it? That means us. This kid is right; we’re part of this sign, just as if we were painted here.”
“Put that ladder down,” the man shouted.
“Does it belong to you?” Westy said.
“It’s on my land,” the man hollered at us.
I said, “Well, we just took it off your land.”
“If you want to take the sign away go ahead and do it,” Westy said.
“We should worry,” I called down.
“We can stand on the law, can’t we?” the kid piped up.
“We can sit on the sign, that’s better,” I said.
The man said, “Are you going to put that ladder down here?”
“No, we’re not,” Westy said.
“We’re part of this sign and we’re going to stay here,” the kid said. “If anybody paid you money for letting the sign be here, that includes us. We’re an advertisement of Brown’s Hats, that’s what we are. We’re on top. It says so. If a thing belongs to a thing, it belongs to that thing and not the land that thing is on, doesn’t it? If you rent out a place to put a thing then the thing that’s on that thing isn’t trespassing on the land that was rented out for the thing underneath it, is it?”
“It’s as clear as mud,” I said. “We’ve got as much right here as a man’s hat has got on top of his head even if his head is in the wrong place.”
“That’s logic,” the kid shouted.
“It’s as true as a false alarm,” Westy said.
“Truer,” Warde put in.
“A sign is something that’s got something on it,” our young hero shouted. “Let’s hear you deny that.”
“And it doesn’t make any difference what’s on it,” Dorry said. “An ad’s an ad, isn’t it?”
“Most always,” I said. “It says here we’re on top, so there’s the proof. We’re here because we’re here. You can do that by long division.”
“We’re secure,” the kid said.
“As long as we don’t fall over backwards,” I told him.
“Anyway, we’re not trespassing now,” Hunt put in.
“Posilutely not,” I said.
The man said, “All right, if you’ve got a right there, stay there. Only don’t come down on my land. If you’ve got a right on top, you haven’t got any right down here. I’ll let you see some logic, whatever that is. You can set up there and I’ll set down here, and you can stay till the sign rots. You’re such clever youngsters. Always on top, huh? Well, you can stay up there with Brown’s hats and see how you like it. This land down here belongs to me, by gum!”
Table of Contents
THE SIEGE
He sat down on a nice big comfortable rock and took out a pipe and filled it and started smoking. He looked as if he was going to stay there for a couple of years or so.
Will Dawson said, “Now you see what we get for standing on our rights. About ten years from now our skeletons will be found sitting on this sign.”
“Always on top,” Westy said.
“If we go down there we get arrested; if we stay up here we starve,” Hunt said.
“Sure, that’s logic,” I said. “I’m not so crazy about being part of an ad.”
“We’ve got a right here, it’s a technicality,” the kid said.
“Yes, but I’m not so stuck on technicalities,” I told him. “You can’t eat them.”
“Let’s drown our sorrows in song,” Westy said.
So then we all started singing and this is what we worked around to:
“We’re here because we’re here,Deny it if you dare;And the reason we’re up here,Is because we’re not down there.”
“We’re here because we’re here,Deny it if you dare;And the reason we’re up here,Is because we’re not down there.”
I said, “Believe me, I’ve had enough of the advertising business. I’m getting hungry. The next time I pose it will be for a restaurant.”
“I’m going to retire from the hat business,” Tom Warner said. “See where it’s left us.”
I said, “Sure, we’ve risen very high in the hat business. We’ve risen to the top. How about our bee-line hike?”
“We can go through everything except a jail,” Westy said.
The farmer just sat there on the rock with one knee over the other, smoking his pipe, very calm like.
I said, “I wonder if we could go to sleep here like birds?”
“Pee-wee ought to be able to,” Westy said.
“Sure, he’s a canary——”
“Will you keep still with that?” the kid yelled.
“I wish the weekly animated news of all the world could see us now,” I said. “‘Boy Scouts marooned on an ad,’ that’s what they’d put. ‘Starving on a desert advertising sign.’”
The farmer down there on the rock didn’t laugh at all, he just sat there smoking.
“This is a siege,” the kid said.
“We’re blockaded,” another one shouted.
“I bet Minerva Skybrow could get us out of this,” I said. “Anybody who likes algebra——Hey, Scout Harris, I thought you said that a scout is resourceful. Can’t you pass out a little resourcefulness? We’ll turn into mummies up here.”
“We’ll sacrifice our lives for Brown’s hats,” Warde said.
So then we started to sing again, each scout singing something different, but pretty soon we all got in line with this; it’s a kind of a sequel to “Over There”:
“Way up here,Way up here;Just our luck,To be stuck;Way up here.And we won’t go home,’Cause we’re stuck away up here.”
“Way up here,Way up here;Just our luck,To be stuck;Way up here.And we won’t go home,’Cause we’re stuck away up here.”
“Oh, here comes the painter!” one of the fellows shouted.
“Shaved!” I yelled.
“He was shaved before,” Hunt said.
“I mean saved,” I told him.
“He has reinforcements with him,” Pee-wee shouted.
“There’s one of Brown’s hats with a man under it,” Ralph Warner said.
I said, “I guess that’s Mr. Wild Bull. Thank goodness, they’ll relieve the starving population.”
“Anyway, we held out,” the kid said.
“Sure,” I said. “The battle of Brown’s hat sign. Wounded, none. Killed, none. Hungry, everybody.”
Then we all set up a cheer for the painter and the other man. When they came near enough I shouted, “Hey, mister, we’re thinking of retiring from the hat business.”
“Hey, mister,” Pee-wee shouted; “aren’t we a part of this sign?”
“Absolutely,” the painter said. “You’re the best part of it.”
“Now you see!” Pee-wee shouted down at the farmer, “You thought we were just hanging around here.Now you see!We’re just as much on top as the hats are.”
“Except when we fall down,” I said.
“A man’s hat might blow off, mightn’t it?” the kid yelled. “That wouldn’t prove his hat isn’t on top, would it?”
“That’s a very fine argument,” the man who was with the painter said.
“I know some better ones than that,” Pee-wee yelled down at him. “Do you know we caught a bandit?”
“Hey, mister,” I said, “haven’t we got a right up here?”
“That’s what it says,” the man laughed.
Then the painter said, “Boys, I want you to meet Mr. Slinger Bull, advertising man for Brown’s hats. He is very much taken with the idea of having scouts on top of our signs.”
I said, “Believe me, we came near being taken. We’re going to retire from the business.”
Mr. Bull said, “Too late, your pictures will soon be all over the country.”
“Mine too?” Pee-wee yelled.
“And we’re going to use the scoutidea—scouts on top; wood cut-outs, of course.”
“Wouldn’t live cut-ups do?” I asked him. “Because that’s us.”
Mr. Bull, he just laughed and he said, “Who’s leader here?”
“I am,” I told him.
He said, “Well, I want your name and address. We’ll probably want you to pose. Did you ever pose?”
Pee-wee said, “We were in the movies, in the imitated news.”
“Sure, we used to pose for animal crackers,” I said.
“Hey, Mr. Bull,” Dorry called down; “if we’re on this sign are we trespassing?”
“No more than the paint is,” Mr. Bull said, looking kind of sideways at the farmer. I guess Mr. Bull saw how it was all right. “You boys are protected by your contract with Mr. Grabberberry here. You’re absolutely safe, you’re covered.”
“By Brown’s hats,” Westy said.
Mr. Bull said, “Exactly. The sentence above refers to you. You’ve given us an idea.”
“We have lots of ideas,” Pee-wee said.
I said, “I’ve got an idea we’d like to get away from here; we’re hungry. We’ve been in the hat business for over an hour. We’ve got a date with a tree.”
He said, “The world belongs to the boy scouts. Everybody knows them and likes them. To say they’re on top is just telling the truth. I think we will hook you boys up with Brown’s hats. We may ask you to pose. Brown’s hats are known the world over. Step right down, boys, and have no fear.”
“Did you see me from the train?” Pee-wee asked him. “Did you see me fall backwards? I bet I sold a lot of hats that way, hey?”
“Oceans of them,” Mr. Bull said.
You can bet we weren’t afraid with a bull to protect us. We went down the ladder and the farmer didn’t say a word. I guess he was thinking about the money he got from Brown’s hats all right. He said to Mr. Bull, very nice and polite, “I kinder thought they wuz trespassin’, you know. ’N I was a-scared they’d get inter some trouble.”
“Believe me,” I said, “we can’t get into trouble because we never got out of it. Anyway, we like the hat business pretty well and I wouldn’t mind living on a sign except for getting hungry.”
So then Mr. Slinger Bull tried to make us take five dollars for our trouble, but we wouldn’t take it because scouts don’t accept money for that kind of a service. Anyway, it wasn’t a service at all, it was just fun. I bet you never heard of anybody being marooned on a desert signboard before.
Table of Contents
IT HASN’T GOT ANY NAME
Now that was the last adventure that we had that day. But we’ve had a lot since then. We picked our way up through the woods on the side of the ridge, using our compass, because we couldn’t see far ahead. It was getting dark and the woods were awful still. Every time a twig cracked under us it seemed to make a loud noise. There were crickets chirping too. It kind of reminded me of Temple Camp after supper. We kept straight west because we knew that was where the tree was. I guess we all got sort of excited as we came up near to the top of the ridge.
I said, “I’m glad the last part of our hike is through the woods. Maybe we had a lot of fun in Bridgeboro and in Little Valley, but the woods for me.”
Pretty soon we came out into the open and there in the dusk stood the great big tree all by itself. It seemed awful solemn like.
Westy said, “Look!Away off there in the east. See?”
Oh, boy! Away, way, way off across the country we had come through was like a shaft of dust sticking right up into the sky. It was the searchlight on the Bridgeboro fire-house.
“Let’s start a good big fire,” I said, “so our folks will know we’re all right. Then we’ll start home.”
So we started a fire and sat around it and jollied each other and especially Pee-wee—you know how we’re always doing. And we roasted the potatoes that we had with us and they tasted good, kind of like smoke.
After a while Westy said, “Well, here’s the end of our bee-line hike and I bet we didn’t go more than about ten or twenty feet out of our path all the way.”
“That’s the only way to get any fun out of a bee-line hike,” I said. “Either do it right or not at all.”
After we were all rested and had eaten allour potatoes we trampled the fire out and went up to the stateroad about a quarter of a mile away to wait for the jitney. I was good and tired, I know that.
Warde said, “I’ve been sitting on the porch all summer reading adventures, but this beats them all. And the best part is it was all real.”
“Believe me,” I told him, “a real agate is an imitation compared to us.”
“I’m glad I’m in the scouts,” he said.
“The worst is yet to come,” I told him.
He said, “I’m game.”
“You bet you are!” all the fellows shouted.
We all looked back and said, “Good night, old tree, see you later.” It seemed as if that big tree had been with us all day and we had come to be friends, sort of. Maybe it saw everything from up there and was laughing to itself at all the crazy things we did, hey?
As we went along toward the stateroad Dorry said, “Let’s take a hike straight north to-morrow.”
“Sure, for the North Pole,” Hunt said.
“You can count me out,” I told them. “I’m going over to Little Valley to-morrow to play tennis if anybody should ask you.”
Right away that crazy kid started jumping up and down, shouting, “What I know about you! What I know about you!”
I should worry about that bunch. Believe me, I was glad to think of getting rid of them for a day.
So long, I’ll see you later.
THE END
THE ROY BLAKELEY BOOKS
By PERCY KEESE FITZHUGH
Author of “Tom Slade,” “Pee-wee Harris,” “Westy Martin,” Etc.
Illustrated. Individual Picture Wrappers in Color.Every Volume Complete in Itself.
In the character and adventures of Roy Blakeley are typified the very essence of Boy life. He is a real boy, as real as Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer. He is the moving spirit of the troop of Scouts of which he is a member, and the average boy has to go only a little way in the first book before Roy is the best friend he ever had, and he is willing to part with his best treasure to get the next book in the series.