Читать книгу Roy Blakeley's Happy-go-lucky Hike - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 7

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That was the time we didn’t get off. “But we almost got off, so it isn’t so bad,” I said. “It’s almost the same as getting off because we pretty near did it.”

“Do you call that logic?” Pee-wee shouted.

“It’s geometry,” I told him. “We almost got off and that’s better than not getting off at all—I’ll leave it to Wig.”

“Roy is right as I usually am,” Wig said.

“Where are we now?” Pee-wee screamed. He screamed so loud that Tin-pan-tin started barking. “Not almost where we are, but where are we? It shows what a fool you are!”

I said, “Scout Chipskunk, those are harsh words for a boy scout to use, and I’ll always remember them if I don’t forget them. If you almost do a thing, it’s better than not almost doing it. It’s two degrees better than not doing it at all. I’m thankful the trestle was there. Where would we be otherwise—such fine language I use. That’s because I went to Princeton—to visit my grandmother. Deny it if you dare. Shall we start some more singing?”

“The next time the train stops I’m going to get off!” Pee-wee shouted.

“We’ll be glad to be rid of you,” I said.

“No matter what, I’m going to get off and go to Little Valley,” he shouted.

“As long as Little Valley doesn’t care, why should we?” I said. “What do you say we have a community sing?”

So then the train kept going and all of a sudden it slowed down quick like, and that other door went rolling shut and it stayed shut. So then we were in the dark almost. “Now we can’t even see when we get to the Pacific Slope,” I said. “Let’s sing the Prisoner’s Song.” Then we all started singing every which way and the dog started barking.

“Even the dog can tell you’re crazy,” Pee-wee said.

After a little while the train stopped again. “Now would be our chance to get out if we could only open a door,” I said. “If we could only get outside so as to open the door then maybe we’d be able to get out.”

“I bet the blamed thing is going to start again,” Wig said.

“How much do you bet?” I asked him.

He said, “If it starts I’ll give you my jack-knife.”

“If it doesn’t start you give it to me,” I said. “You lose it either way.”

Wig said, “If it doesn’t start I’ll give you my compass and if it does start I’ll give it to Vic.”

“That’s satisfaction,” I told him. “If it starts, Wig gives me something and if it doesn’t start, Vic gives me something; that’s fair and square all around.”

“Will you cut out being crazy with your nonsensical nonsense!” Pee-wee screamed at us. “Maybe it will start again like it did before and then where will we be?”

“I know the answer to that question,” I told him.

“Will you help me try to get the door open!” the kid shouted. All the while he was shaking it and joggling it—the one that had the chocolate mark on it. All of a sudden he kind of lifted it and then it rolled open. “While you’re standing around making crazy bets I opened it,” he said.

“You’re simply wonderful,” I told him. “Now the next thing to do is for us to have a meeting and decide whether we want to get out or not.”

“Will you get out while we’ve got the chance?” the kid yelled. “There you stand talking and all of a sudden any minute the train might start.”

Wig said, “That’s very true what Pee-wee says; we ought to consider that.”

“It’s a peach of an argument,” Vic said.

“I’m not talking about arguments!” the kid screamed. “I’m talking about doing something while we’ve got a chance to.”

“That would be the best time to do it,” Wig said.

All of a sudden the car gave a kind of a jump and there was a lot of rattling and clanking outside, and Pee-wee went sliding and almost fell kerflop. “Now you see!” he said. “I’m going to get off. Do you think I’m going to stay here and be a fool?”

I said, “He’s right, he might as well go somewhere else and be one. One place is as good as another if not worse. Come on, let’s get off.”

So then we all jumped down after Pee-wee, and the dog started barking and jumping up on us—gee, I guess he was having the time of his young life being taken home to his rightful owners. Anyway the train kept standing there, maybe it’s there yet for all I know.

I said, “Did we get out through the right door—the one with the chocolate mark on it?”

Pee-wee said, “Sure we did and so we have to keep going north. Maybe the train went four or five miles so we have to kind of go northwest. But we got out on the right side of the car to go to Little Valley, the opposite side from the side we got in on. Only we have to kind of, what-you-call-it, verge back.”

I said, “I don’t know how to do that, I never verged.”

“It means bend back, kind of,” Pee-wee said. “As long as we know we’re hiking north we’ll sure get to Little Valley, so come on.”

Off he started through the woods going northwest by his tin compass. After a little while we came to Daggett’s mill, that’s right near Bridgeboro where we started from. The kid stopped short all of a sudden and just stood there staring. He said, “What’s Daggett’s mill doing here?”

“Search me,” I said. “I guess it’s just out for a hike. You’re the one that brought us here.”

“We’re coming back into Bridgeboro,” he said. “How could we go south when we started north?”

“You have to be pretty smart to go in two directions at once,” I told him.

Wig said, “I bet I know what we did; I bet that train went around a curve and we never knew it. That door was facing south instead of north when we got out. Now we’ve got to start all over again.”

So then we went over to the country road and started again, hiking for Little Valley. That shows what a dandy story this is, it’s even got two starts.

“Anyway we move in the best circles,” Vic said.

“Sure, good big ones,” Wig put in.

“Follow Pee-wee and you can’t go right,” I said.

On the country road was a sign and it was 0 miles to Nortonville—they’ve got a peach of a scout troop there. I knew it was ten miles only the 1 was rubbed off. I said, “Already we’re in Nortonville because it says no miles, so we must have passed Little Valley about an hour ago, because Nortonville is six miles past Little Valley. Gee, every place is somewhere else on this hike.”

“Will you come on and stop talking a lot of nonsense!” Pee-wee said. “Do you want to return the dog and get a reward or don’t you?”

I said, “I’m looking around for Nortonville; I don’t see it anywhere, do you? This is no miles where we are, I can tell by how tired I am. Look what it says on the sign. Do you say the state of New Jersey is a liar? Here we are in Nortonville, only I don’t see it.”

So then Wig and Vic and I started hunting around and lifting up stones and looking behind trees and everything while Pee-wee stood there good and mad. The dog kept running around too and sniffing—I guess he was trying to find Nortonville. Don’t blame me, I told you this hike was crazy. So then, after Pee-wee was good and mad, we started along the road.