Читать книгу Roy Blakeley's Wild Goose Chase - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 5

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“Don’t tell anyone except Pee-wee,” I said, “because they’ll all want to go.” Because that’s the way it is on account of our hikes being so famous and nonsensical. A lot we should worry about what some people think. “I wish we could take him without him knowing it,” I said. “But I’m afraid if he went along he’d know he was with us.”

“He might suspect,” Warde said.

After supper, before we all went up to campfire, we got hold of Pee-wee just as he was coming up from the lake. He had on that scowl that he always carries around with him.

I said, “Hey listen, Sir Harris. Warde and Will and I are going to take a very important hike that has refreshments in it, and we want you to go with us, only we don’t want you to know you’re going.”

“We’re going to hike to Bric-a-brac or Crackerjack or Cadillac or somewheres,” Warde told him. “It’s about ten miles on the other side of the Hudson. We’re going on an important scout mission to visit the sick. If you want to go, break it to us gently.”

“I know what kind of a hike it is!” Pee-wee started hollering. “Already before you tell me I know what kind of a one it is! By the way you talk I know all about it.”

Will said, “Isn’t it wonderful how smart he is!”

“Hey, kid,” I said, “honest, no fooling, this is going to be serious. A poor boy broke his collar button chasing a cat and he lives in Claverack and he can’t go out and he wants me to hike and see him because his sister says I’m only in a story book and I’m not alive and his mother is going to serve eats if we go there. So you can see for yourself that this is a good-turn hike, and on the way back we’re going to turn into every road we come to—it’s called the Good Turn Hike.”

“Don’t miss it,” Warde said. “At last we’re going to have some sense, going to see a poor boy and cheer him up with laughing faces and merry jests, aren’t we, Roy?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “The way I feel now, I’m so sober like, I wouldn’t even string a string bean.”

Will kept a straight face and he said, “At last we realize that there’s something else in the world besides nonsense. We want to be helpful. Didn’t you see how I helped myself to four crullers at supper? And I asked a little tenderfoot for a banana he had so as he wouldn’t get indigestion.”

I said, “Will, that was a kind act.”

“Worthy of a boy sprout,” Warde said.

I said, “Honest, young Harris, the Silver-plated Foxes have changed their policy. So do you want to go with us on a hike to see a poor invalid boy whose mother is going to pass around refreshments? If not, don’t ever call yourself a boy scout again!”

Oh, boy, I had to laugh, the kid didn’t know what to think. I guess he felt kind of shaky about it but anyway he said, “Let’s see the letter.”

I said, “Young Harris, a scout is to be toasted by his brother scouts. If he isn’t toastworthy he can be asked to hand over his badge. I feel deeply defended that you don’t trust a Silver Fox. We’re asking you because you haven’t got any patrol of your own.”

“I’ll go if you’re really going to do that,” he said. “But I’m not going on any crazy, nonsensical, idiotical hikes that are not hikes at all, where all you do is think of ways not to come home, and have everybody laughing at you—no siree. Geeee whiz, I had enough of that.”

“It’s the only thing you ever have had enough of,” Warde said to him.

I said, “I don’t blame Pee-wee at all; his parents are to blame if anybody. The trouble with us is we don’t take scouting serially—we ought to read more serial stories. Now at last we’re going to do something worth while.”

Oh boy, the kid just stood there looking from one of us to the other; he didn’t know what to think. Gee, you couldn’t blame him if he didn’t trust us, especially after some hikes we had. But the three of us kept very sober like, because that time for once we really wanted him to go. Because we wanted to kid the life out of him in front of that feller in Claverack. That’s us all over, always out to do a favor. Why, even once I carried Westy Martin’s duffel bag up from the station because he was tired—and he carried mine. That’s the kind of scouts we are—full of helpings.

So long, I’ll see you in the next chapter.