Читать книгу Pee-wee Harris, Mayor for a Day - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 12

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The effect of Mr. Bulton on Pee-wee was as that of a tempest. Our hero was overwhelmed. He was overwhelmed not only by the hundred dollars, but by the masterful and hearty Mr. Bulton. He could not have refused to espouse the cause of Charlie Bulton while he stood before that scout financial angel, Charlie’s father. And now he felt committed. It was the old, old story, so characteristic of Pee-wee, of overdoing everything. He always had three helpings of dessert. And now he had more than his share of boys for a patrol.

“One thing anyway,” he said as he and Charlie walked along together, buoyant and full of plans as a consequence of the altogether sensational development, “I’m not going to ask Peter Tower to leave, that’s one sure thing. Because I promised him ever since last summer.”

Peter would indeed have been the logical one to dismiss, since he was under the scout age, but Pee-wee never thought of that.

“We don’t have to fire anybody because it isn’t started yet—not regular,” said Charlie. “All we have to do is to say who we don’t want in.” You will notice he said WE; he was in already.

“Well,” said Pee-wee, “Harlen and Carlo and the Jansen fellers, they got to stay in because they were scouts already and we want that kind because, gee whiz, I don’t want all tenderfoots. And you can shut up about Peter Tower because I’m the boss and I’m going to have him in, so that’s one sure thing.”

Charlie thought it discreet at this juncture to make some reference to their capital. “We’ll make a list of things we’ll get with the hundred dollars, hey?” he said. “All camping things, hey?”

“Sure,” said Pee-wee, rather preoccupied.

“Hey, listen, Walt,” said Bulton. “Let’s drop that pair of dagoes. What the dickens did you ever want to ask them for, anyway? They won’t stick to scouting, kids like that. Anyway, do you suppose they’ll be living here in Bridgeboro long? Why, those little houses are going to be torn down soon. First thing you know they’ll beat it and be living out in Chicago or traveling around with their mother and father. Honest, Walt, we can’t make scouts out of that kind.”

“Who’s we?” Pee-wee demanded. “How can you show fellers about scouting when you don’t know anything about it yourself yet?”

“All right, you then. Only this is what I’m saying; I bet they never asked to be scouts.”

“I said if they’d show me their mother and father I’d get them into the scouts,” said Pee-wee.

“A lot they care,” said Bulton. “You’ll see none of the patrol will stick if that pair is in. And anyway, they won’t stick themselves. They don’t belong in Bridgeboro. Gee, you don’t see my father or yours or Mr. Blakeley or anybody asking their father to join the Golf Club, do you?”

No, that was true. No one had asked the gracious, enthusiastic, gesticulating, kindly little Signor Liventi to join the Golf Club. He did not belong in Bridgeboro.

“Now you see ’em, now you don’t,” said Bulton. “What do we want anyway, music players or scouts?”

Pee-wee was silent.

“You’re always talking about Temples,” persisted Bulton. “Did those kids get invited up to Mary Temple’s birthday party?”

No, that was right too, they had not been.

“We’ll drop them,” said Bulton, “and I tell you what we’ll do. I’ll take the place of one of them and we’ll get Ben Maxwell to take the place of the other, and Ben’s got a big radio set, so we won’t have to buy that. That’ll leave us a clean hundred to get maybe a big tent and a lot of scout stuff and make a good start. All-American patrol, hey?”

Pee-wee was silent. “How do you know they’ll move away?” he finally asked.

“Why, surest thing you know, they will—circus actors. And anyway, I ought to have something to say because isn’t it my hundred dollars that’s giving us such a fine old start—isn’t it?”

Again Pee-wee was silent. “Who’s going to tell them?” he asked weakly.

“Why, Jiminy Christopher,” said Bulton, encouraged, “it isn’t like as if you had to fire them. All you have to do is tell them you changed your plans, see? Tell ’em you’re going to start another patrol later.”

“I am, too,” Pee-wee said, soothing his troubled conscience. “And they can be in that, hey, if they’re here?”

“If,” said Bulton.

“They used to travel with their mother and father,” said Pee-wee, still trying to square himself with himself; “maybe they will again, hey?”

“You go up there and tell ’em to-day,” said Bulton. “Tell ’em you changed your plans and you’re going to start another patrol after a while. And I’ll come up to your house to-night and we’ll make a list of all the things we’re going to buy. What do you say?”

“All right,” said Pee-wee hesitatingly.

“And maybe I can get the check to-night too,” said Bulton. “I got my old man eating out of my hand.”

“All right,” said Pee-wee.

“You’ll sure do it?”

“If a scout says he’ll do a thing, he does it,” said Pee-wee.

“All right then, so long, I’ll see you later,” said Bulton. “I’ll be up at about eight and I’ll squeak like a chipmunk outside your house, hey?”

“All right,” said Pee-wee.