It was not Pee-wee's custom to leave a thing to somebody else. Heattended to everything--meals, awards, hikes, ice cream cones, campinglocalities, duffel lists, parents, everything. He was the world'schampion fixer. You can see for yourselves what a triumph he made of notrescuing the wrong car. That was merely a detail. If the car had beenthe right one and no one had stopped him from rescuing it he would haverescued it. Since everything worked out all right, he was triumphant.And he was better than glue for fixing things.

  "I'll handle them," he said.

  "Well, well both handle them," said Scoutmaster Ned.

  A little farther along the road Safety First said, "I don't see why theroad was closed off. It seems to me to be all right."

  Pee-wee was now sufficiently subdued to think and speak calmly, and hesaid, "That feller with the shirt put it there; he said he read thesignal. I guess he's crazy, hey?"

  "Oh, the fellow with the shirt?" queried Fido Norton, humorously.

  "I seem to remember a shirt," said Nick.

  "That was it," Pee-wee said.

  "He was just a little rube," said Charlie Norris.

  "He's the one that said I was a thief," said Pee-wee. "I told him Icould prove I was a scout by eating a potato a certain way."

  "And be didn't take you up?" said Scoutmaster Ned.

  "He didn't have a potato," Pee-wee said.

  "It's best always to carry potatoes with you," said Scoutmaster SafetyFirst.

  "After this I'm always going to carry five or six," said Pee-wee.

  "The proof of the potatoes is in the eating," said Nick.

  "I know nine different ways to cook them," said Pee-wee; "and I can eatthem raw so that makes ten. I can eat potato skins too, so that makeseleven."

  "If you could eat potato-bugs that would make twelve," said CharlieNorris.

  "If you eat lightning bugs, that will make you bright," said Pee-wee;"that's what Roy Blakeley says; he's in my troop. He's crazy and he sayshe's glad of it. We've got three patrols in my troop and I'm a member ofthe Ravens but I'm kind of in all of them. I know all about camping andeverything. In the fall you're supposed to camp east of a hill, do youknow why?"

  "No, break it to us gently," said Nick.

  "When you said _break it_, that reminded me that I can break an appleinto halves with one hand."

  "Do tell," said Charlie; "what do you do with the other half?"

  "What other half?"

  "The other one."

  "If they're both the same how can there be another one? I eat them."

  "Really?"

  "I eat mushrooms too, only if they're toad-stools they kill you."

  "Why don't you eat a couple?"

  "I _will_ not, because you bet I'm going to stay alive. I'll show youhow you can tell the difference when we get to that island. I'll showyou a lot of things. Do you know how to pump water with anewspaper--rolled up? Gee, that's easy, I learned that when I was atenderfoot."

  "What are you now, a second hand scout?"

  "I'm a first class scout and I'm a first aid scout and--Do you know howto make things out of peanut shells?"

  "Will you show us that, too?"

  "Sure, but anyway I never use chalk for scout signs; I use charred wood.Do you know why?"

  "Because chalk reminds you of school?"

  "Because it's got too much civilization in it."

  "Do they put that in it?"

  "No, but it's there. Gee whiz, I've got no use for civilization, I don'tcare what kind it is."

  "Well, what about that codger?" asked Scoutmaster Ned. "He said he readthe signal?"

  "Sure, and he was the one that stopped us when that fellow ran away. Geewhiz, I didn't see any signal but I didn't look behind. Maybe he's justdisguised as a rube, hey? Anyway, he stopped us, that's one sure thing,because we stopped and that proves it, doesn't it?"

  "There's nothing the matter with the road," Safety First repeated.

  "That's what has me guessing," said Scoutmaster Ned. "He couldn't haveread the message, that little codger. He's just a poor, little countrykid. I'd give a doughnut to know how he happened to put that rope acrossthe road. He never, _never_ read that message, you can bet on that."

  "I know! I know!" vociferated Pee-wee. "He had a--a--inspiration. Giveme the doughnut."

  CHAPTER XXXIII

  HARK! THE CONQUERING HERO COMES BACK

  We need not linger in Bridgeboro, the native haunt of Scout Harris, andof Roy Blakeley and his Silver-plated Fox Patrol, and the othercelebrities of Pee-wee's troop. For the adventures of these world heroesmay be found recorded by Roy's own hand.

  It will be sufficient to say that the delegation from Kidder Lakedescended upon the peaceful home of Pee-wee Harris (peaceful during hisabsence at all events) and carried it by storm. The anxiety of Mr. andMrs. Harris over the whereabouts of their son being set at rest by hisdramatic appearance at the head of his martial following, there wasnothing for them to do but surrender to Scoutmaster Ned, while the partypartook of breakfast in the fallen fortress.

  "He will eat you out of house and home," warned Mrs. Harris; "I onlywant to warn you beforehand."

  "We are prepared for the worst," said Scoutmaster Ned, as hecontemplated his discovery wrestling with a saucer of breakfast foodacross the table. "In return for our poor hospitality he is going toshow us how the world should be run, and we are to be his pupils. Nowthat we have stumbled upon him we couldn't close our season withouthim."

  "I'll show you how to close it," said Pee-wee.

  The one obstacle which might have stood in the way of these delectableplans--school--was removed by the fact that Scout Harris was to enter aprivate school (pity the poor private school) which did not open untilafter Columbus Day. We shall see him wished onto this institution in asubsequent volume.

  The outlandish sweater and rakish cap in which Pee-wee had masqueradedthrough that eventful night were now discarded by order of his mother,and on the journey to Kidder Lake he appeared a vision of sartorialsplendor in his full scout regalia including all appurtenances andsundries.

  As a tribute, perhaps, to the island of which he was to be the imperialhead, he flaunted his aluminum frying-pan, its handle stuck in his belt,ready to fry an egg at a second's notice in case of emergency. That hemight never be at a loss to know where he was at, his scout compassdangled by a cord tied in a double sheep-shank knot to harmonize withthe knot of his scarf which could only be removed by lifting it over hishead. Thus, though he might be lost to his comrades, he could never belost to his scarf.

  Twisted into the cord of his scout hat was an arrow pointing forward,which gave him an exceedingly martial appearance and was useful, too, inpointing out the way he should go and safeguarding him from the dangerof going backward. But if, by an accident, he _should_ go backward orsideways, he had the empty funnel of an old auto horn with which tomagnify his voice and make the forest ring with his sonorous cries forhelp. And if the help did not come, he had still one cylinder of an oldopera glass, with the lens of which he could ignite a dried leaf by dayor observe the guiding stars by night. And if there were no dried leaveshe had his crumpled piece of tissue paper. And if the stars did notshine, he had a rag for extracting confidential information from thewind. And if there was no wind, he should worry, he had gum-dropsmobilized in every pocket. Every safety device known to scout science(and many of quite original conception) were upon the martial form ofScout Harris, so that he could not possibly go wrong or starve.

  So it was without any fear that he set forth for the untrodden wilds ofFrying-pan Island notwithstanding that it was a quarter of a mile wideand nearly a third of a mile long.

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  PEE-WEE HOLDS FORTH

  It was a delightful ride to Kidder Lake in the daytime. There is no timelike the autumn--except the spring. And the spring is only good becauseit is the beginning of the summer. Just the same as the winter is bestbecause the spring comes after it. As Roy Blakeley would have said, "Youcan do that by algebr
a." But there is nothing, either before or after,to make algebra good.

  As Jim Burton's big Packard car sped along, the country looked bleak andthe fields wan with their yellow corn-stalks. Even the little shackswhere fresh fruit and vegetables had been displayed to motorists werenow boarded up. Their cheerless, deserted look contributed quite as muchas the changing foliage to the scene of coldness, desolation. The sadlook which Nature assumes when school opens. The wind blew and theleaves fell and the West Ketchem scouts fell too, for Scout Harris, whowas also blowing.

  "That's what you call a proincidence, how I don't have to go to schoolyet, the same as you don't on account of yours burning down. Gee whiz, Ilike camp-fires, but I like school fires better."

  "And you'll show us how to make a camp-fire?"

  "Sure I will; 111 show you how they do at Temple Camp. Is there anybodyliving on that island?"

  "No one but us, and we'll have to be going home soon," said CharlieNorris.

  "I like desert islands best," Pee-wee said; "they remind you of dessert.Sometimes I spell it that way. Don't you care, we have a month yet. Didyou ever eat floating island? It has gobs of icing floating around init. We have that Sunday nights at Temple Camp. When I said dessert itmade me think of it. Sometimes islands disappear."

  "I bet the ones in that dessert do all right," laughed Nick Vernon.

  "You said it!" Pee-wee vociferated with great emphasis. "I'll show youhow to make tracking cakes, too, only you can't eat them."

  "No?"

  "No-o-o, they're for chipmunks and birds to step on so you can savetheir footprints. Gee whiz, did you think you could eat them?"

  "We didn't know," said Fido Norris.

  "Gee, there are lots of things _I_ don't know too," said Pee-weegenerously. "But anyway I fixed it so a scout could stay at Temple Campan extra week."

  "Bully for you. A good turn?"

  "You said it. I gave him a whole pail of berries I picked and he gotsick and couldn't go home."

  "Some fixer."

  "I've fixed lots of things."

  "Maybe you can give us all berries the day before our temporary schoolopens," said Fido Norton.

  "Don't you worry," said Pee-wee reassuringly; "maybe the men who aregetting it ready will go on a strike; maybe there'll be measles orwhooping cough or something. I've had those."

  "You're not missing much, hey?"

  "You said it. I've been lost in the woods too. Roy Blakeley says I getlost at C when I sing. He's crazy, that feller is. He started the SilverFoxes. There's a feller in that patrol can move his ears withouttouching them. I should worry as long as I can move my mouth. I'll showyou how to flop a fried egg in the pan only you have to look it doesn'tcome down on your head. You can scramble eggs but you can't unscramblethem. Once one came down on my head. I took a bee-line hike, too."

  "With a fried egg on your head?"

  "No-o-o. I'll show you how to make a thing to get olives out of thebottom of a bottle too; it's better than a hatpin, but a hatpin is goodto catch pollywogs with. There's a Pollywog Patrol that comes to TempleCamp. Gee, I never knew that silver cup was in the car with me all thetime."

  "Well, we expect you to walk away with that," said Scoutmaster Ned. "Yourode away with it once. So now we expect you to walk away with it."

  "It's won already," said Charlie Norris. "Nick's the one."

  "Gee whiz, I wish I had seen that signal," said Pee-wee, "but anyway Ihave to admit it was a stunt sending it. Gee, I guess you'll get the cupall right."

  It was characteristic of Pee-wee that his thoughts did not recur to hislonely adversary at Piper's Crossroads. His thoughts were always of themoment and aroused by the present company. He was just as ready to shoutfor others as he was to shout for himself, and that is saying a greatdeal. It was immaterial to him who he shouted for so long as he couldshout.

  Nick Vernon was the nearest and likeliest, so he was all for Nick'sstunt. And he was not in the least curious about the things said by thatlonely boy with wide eyes who had stopped the car. He was thinking ofother things now.

  CHAPTER XXXV

  SCOUTMASTER NED DOESN'T SEE

  But Scoutmaster Ned was curious and when they reached the little cottagehe jumped out and, taking the can of gasoline he had brought, he badethe others go on their way, saying that he would follow when he got hiscar started.

  "Well sir, you haven't been sitting here all this time, I hope?" he saidto Peter. "Nice brisk morning, hey? The kind of weather to give you anappetite."

  "Wouldn't they wait for you?" Peter asked.

  "I'm glad to get rid of them," said Scoutmaster Ned in a way of friendlyconfidence; "they make a noise like an earthquake; that little fellow'sthe worst of the lot; he ought to have a muffler."

  "Is he a real scout?" Peter ventured.

  "Oh, he's two or three scouts. What d'you think of them? Crazy bunch,hey?"

  "They're all real scouts--are they?" Peter asked hesitatingly.

  "They think they are. Now look here," he added, sitting down on therunning board in a companionable way beside Peter, "I want you to tellme what made you say that road was closed. There was a light in the sky;you saw that? Big, tall light?"

  "That--that fellow--named Nick--he made it."

  "Yes, and what made you close the road? Somebody tell you the lightmeant something?"

  "There isn't anybody around here," said Peter, growing more at ease aseveryone did with Scoutmaster Ned, "except Aunt Sarah Wickett and she'scrazy. There's nobody in this house but my mother."

  "How about Mr. Fee? No? Well then, who told you to close the road? Comenow, you and I are pals and you have to tell me."

  A scoutmaster, a real, live scoutmaster, a pal of _his?_ Why that wasmore wonderful than reading a signal. Peter's hands rubbed togethernervously and he hedged, as a scout should never do.

  "I want that scout to get that cup, the one that sent the message.Could--maybe could I see that cup--if it's in this car?"

  In the excitement of the night, Scoutmaster Ned had forgotten all aboutthe stunt cup (as they had come to call it). He now brought it forthfrom under the rear seat and unwound the flannel rag that was around itand polished it a little as he held it up. It shone in the brightmorning sunlight and Peter saw his face in it. That was strange, thatPeter Piper of Piper's Crossroads should see his own face looking at himfrom the radiant surface of a scout prize cup. He had never even seensuch a good mirror before. He just gazed at it, and continued to gaze,as Scoutmaster Ned held it up. _Awarded for the_--it shone so, hecould hardly make out the words--_for the best all scout stunt of theseason._

  "It cost a lot of money, didn't it?"

  "Oh, something less than a couple of thousand dollars. Look nice,standing on a scout's table, huh?" Scoutmaster Ned gave it anotherlittle rub and contemplated it admiringly. "We had enough of a fussgetting it, that's sure. See that Maltese Cross on it? That's ourbi-troop sign. We have two troops; always hang together. A troop's onebunch in scouting. That kid thought the Maltese Cross meant that the cupwas to drink malted milk out of. He's a three-ring circus, that kid."

  "It was a stunt to send that--to make that light, wasn't it?" Peterasked.

  "Well, I'll say it was," said Scoutmaster Ned, giving the cup anotheradmiring rub.

  That settled it for Peter. He could not match his poor little exploitagainst such miraculous performances. The sight of those uniforms in thebroad daylight had cowed him. The sight of Nick Vernon's signallingbadge had brought him to his sober senses, and he felt ashamed even ofhis dreams and his pretending. The brief glimpse he had had of ScoutHarris in all his flaunting array, going forth to new conquestssurrounded by infatuated disciples, these things settled it for poorPeter. He thought himself lucky not to have drawn attention and beenmade a fool by those heroes. Maybe they would not all have been asconsiderate as Scoutmaster Ned. The safest thing, as well as the thingnearest to his heart, was to stand for Nick Vernon. He could stand forhim even if he was afraid of him. After all, a pioneer scout was no
treally and truly a scout....

  "I don't know why I put the rope up," he said nervously; "I just did.There is a--a bad place in the road if you're going fast--I'll--I justas soon show it to you--if you don't believe me. I thought maybe thelight--but anyway I wasn't sure--and I'll show you that bad place. Iguess he'll _sure_ win the cup, won't he; the scout that made thelight?"

  "Shouldn't wonder," said Scoutmaster Ned, a little puzzled, butapparently satisfied. "Didn't you say something about a signal? To thatlittle codger? Or was he dreaming? Or am I dreaming?" He scrutinizedPeter very curiously but seeing no sign of the scout about him, hedismissed the receiving end of this business with Peter's rather awkwardexplanation, and let it go at that.

  As for what Pee-wee had said, that did not worry Scoutmaster Ned.Pee-wee's dream and experiences seemed to be all mixed up together likethe things in a hunter's stew. Scoutmaster Ned went by the _signs_,which scouts do, and the signs were a funny ticking shirt and a pair ofpantaloons like stove pipes. No hint of scouting there.

  For you see the scout was _inside_ of Peter Piper of Piper's Crossroads.That was why he was for Nick Vernon. It was _inside_ him, and"disguised" (as Pee-wee would have said) as a checker-board shirt. Andthat was why Scoutmaster Ned couldn't see it....

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  MORE HANDLING