Percy Keese Fitzhugh

“ The dying sunlight painted the slopes of the valley with crimson tints and the countryside was very still. Through the woods to the west could be heard occasionally the discordant noise from the loose flooring of the bridge on the highway as an auto sped over it. In the quiet evening the sound, with its sudden start, its rattling clamor and its quick cessation, made a jarring note in all the surrounding peacefulness.
“That’s what wakes me up in the morning, the mail wagon going over,” Pepsy said; “I know it’s time to get up then. Those planks can talk, they say the same thing every day. ”

“ Pee-wee could see the imposing procession as far down as the bend.
“Some detour,” a good-natured voice said.
“Detour? Detour?” Pee-wee whispered in sudden and terrible excitement. Then, as the full purport of the staggering truth burst upon him he issued forth from the roadside rest and contemplated the approaching pageant with joy bubbling up like soda water in his heart.
“Never mind,” said another voice, “we can get some eats in this jungle, thank goodness. What I won’t do to a couple of hot frankfurters!”
A sudden chill cooled the fresh enthusiasm of Scout Harris. ”

“ Pee-wee repeated to himself and motioned with his hand for Pepsy not to move.
Now, in such rapid succession that Pee-wee could hardly follow them, the flashes appeared, tinier as the cyclist sped further away.
“Hide Kelly’s barn,” Pee-wee breathed.
Presently the second cyclist was on his machine again, speeding through the darkness. Either the first cyclist knew that his friend’s trouble was not serious, or time was so precious that he could not pause in any case. Indeed, their flight must have been urgent to speed on such a road without headlights. ”

“ Pee-wee believed that anything could be done by power of will. She could find the utmost joy in pretending. No, not the utmost joy, for the utmost joy would be to buy the tents....
“You have to say we’re not pretending like girls do,” he insisted relentlessly as she buried her head in her poor little thin arm and sobbed more and more. “You have to say it. Do you cross your heart? Is it going to be a success? Are we going to make lots of money—sure? You have to say we’re not just fooling like girls. ”

“ Pee-wee said. “If you want to be a scout you can’t kill anything that doesn’t do any harm. But you can kill snakes and mosquitoes if you want to.” Evidently it was the dream of Wiggle’s life to be a scout for he released the locust to Pee-wee, wagging his tail frantically.
“You have to be loyal, too,” the young propagandist said; “that’s a rule. You have to be helpful and think up ways to help people. No matter what happens you have to be loyal.”
“Do you have to be loyal to orphan homes?” Pepsy wanted to know. “If they lick you do you have to be loyal to them?” ”

“ There followed the most terrible moment in the life of Pee-wee Harris, Scout. He knew that one more bite would be fatal, that the postman would not wait. In two bites, or in three at most, he could finish the banana and his hand would be free.
How could a postman, who brings joy to the lonely, words of love from far away, cheer to those who wait, comfort from across the seas, Boys’ Life Magazine—how could such a being be so relentless and cruel? ”

“ He was not always the ideal scout in little things. He was a true scout in the big things.
When he reached the shack he found Pepsy waiting for him and he poured forth his grievance into her sympathetic ears. “I’ll fix him all right,” he said; “he’s a coward, that’s what he is, and he needn’t think I’m afraid of him. I’ll get even with him all right. Whenever I make up my mind to do a thing I do it, that’s one thing sure.”
“Only we didn’t make a success of our refreshment parlor,” Pepsy ventured to say, “but just the same we’re going to because—”
“What do I care about it?” Pee-wee vociferated. ”

“ Meanwhile Pee-wee went across the lawn and down the road to the scene of their hapless enterprise. The roadside rest could boast now of but two jars, one of peppermint sticks and one of gumdrops (both in rapid process of consumption) and a number of spools of tire tape. But the absence of doughnuts and sausages and lemonade, this was nothing. It was the absence of Pepsy that counted. ”

“ The rattling, warning voice ceased as suddenly as it had begun as the unseen car rolled noiselessly along the smooth highway.
“Don’t you be scared of it,” Pee-wee said. “You’re as bad as Licorice Stick. Those old boards don’t know what they’re talking about. I wouldn’t be scared of what anything said unless it was alive, that’s sure.”
“They voted not to build a new bridge for two years because they’ve got to build a new school-house,” said Pepsy. “That’s because this county hasn’t got much money. I’ll be glad when they build it; the floor’s going to be made out of stone, like.” ”

“ Pee-wee was always magnanimous in victory. Abiding enmity was a thing he knew not. So now he laid down his stencil brush (within easy reach) and said, “We’re going to start a refreshment shack and sell fruit and lemonade and waffles and things and maybe auto accessories and souvenirs.”
Pepsy seemed a bit uncomfortable as Pee-wee said this, perhaps just a trifle ashamed. She was afraid that this clever, sophisticated young fellow would ridicule their enterprise, as indeed there was good reason to do. Yet she felt ashamed, too, of her momentary faithlessness to Pee-wee. ”

“ But the comforter did not stay long, for Pepsy dreamed a dream. She dreamed that all the people of the village, Simeon Drowser, Nathaniel Knapp, Darius Dragg, the sneering Deadwood Gamely, and even the faithless Arabella Bellison, the school teacher, were pointing fingers a yard long at her and saying, “You have to go back to the big brick building. You have to go back, you have to go back.” On the big doughnut jar in the “refreshment parlor” sat Licorice Stick saying, “You have to go back the next time it thunders.” ”

“ A scout is supposed to save life, scout law number six; let’s have a couple of thousand hot dogs, will you? We’re dying. And forty-eleven dozen doughnuts with the holes removed.”
“Do you—I—eh—do you—need any tire tape?” Pee-wee stammered, playing for time.
“Tire tape! What do you take us for? A lot of blow-outs? Let’s have some eats and we’ll take care of the blow-out.”
“Come on, hurry up, a scout is supposed to be prepared,” piped up a natty scout wearing the bronze cross.
“Where’s all the food?” the scoutmaster asked, glancing at the empty counter. ”

“ Lots of girls tried to jolly me but they never got away with it.”
“Did that girl that was kept after school try to jolly you?” Pepsy asked.
“I wouldn’t let any girls jolly me,” Pee-wee said, ignoring the specific question and speaking with difficulty, because of the stickiness of the taffy. “They think they’re smart, girls do; I don’t mean you, but most of them. I know how to handle them all right. They try to make a fool of you and then just giggle, but the last laugh is the best, that’s one sure thing.” ”

“ The official pride of Beriah Bungel as he led his captives back to Everdoze to await transportation to Baxter City was somewhat chilled by the inglorious appearance of his face. There can be no pomp and dignity in company with a wounded nose and Beriah Bungel’s nose was the largest thing about him except his official prowess.
“Don’t tell anybody I told him,” Pee-wee whispered to Pepsy, “or you’ll spoil it all and they won’t give him the money.”
“Suppose he tells himself,” Pepsy said. ”

“ Pee-wee said in scornful reproval; “that could happen to—to—to Julius Caesar.”
“He’s dead, you ask Miss Bellison,” said Pepsy timidly.
“That shows how much you know,” said Pee-wee scornfully as he brushed off his clothing. “Can’t something be a kind of a thing that could happen to somebody who’s dead if he was very smart, only if he wasn’t dead? We got a dollar and ten cents from them, didn’t we?”
“Yes, but—did you—did you—handle them?” Pepsy asked fearfully.
“There are different ways of handling people,” Pee-wee said; “you can’t handle people that are crazy, can you? ”

“ Pee-wee said, “and none of us will die. If the customers die that doesn’t count, does it?”
Pepsy did not hear this rather ominous prediction about those who would eat the waffles and the taffy. Her hate and her tears were her only arguments, but they won the day.
“He’s got a Ford,” Pee-wee said in scornful final plea, “and he can put up money enough for us to buy lots of sundries and pretty soon we’ll have money enough to start other refreshment places and he can be the one to ride around—he’ll be kind of field manager. It shows how much girls know about business,” he added disgustedly. ”

“ Pepsy said, stamping her foot and shaking her head violently, “and I don’t care about the old carnival or anything—so now. They’re all too stingy—to—to—buy things—they’re too stingy. I—I—I—don’t care,” she went on fairly in hysterics, “he says I can’t—I can’t—keep—keep—a secret—but I’ve got one and I won’t tell it to anybody and I thought it up all myself and it will surely make lots and lots and lots of people come and buy—and—and he’ll see if girls can do things.” She was crying violently and shaking like a leaf.
“What is the secret, Pepsy?” Aunt Jamsiah asked gently; “maybe I can help you.” ”

“ Pepsy was suspicious because she could not understand it. But Pee-wee, quick to forget dislikes and trifling injuries, was strong for the new partner.
“He’s all right,” he told her, “and scouts are supposed to be kind and help people and maybe he wants to reform and we ought to help him get into business.”
“He’s a smarty and I hate him and three is bad luck,” was all that Pepsy could say. Then she broke down crying, “Miss Bellison hates him, too,” she sobbed, “and—and if people sit three in a seat in a wagon one of them dies inside of a year. ”

“ ENTER PEPSY It will be seen by a glance at the accompanying sketch that the village of Everdoze was about opposite the bridge on the highway. From this main road the village could be reached by a trail through the woods. On hearing of this, Charlie expressed regret that he had not allowed his passenger to make the final stage of the journey on foot.
“Well, I never in all my life!” said Aunt Jamsiah as Pee-wee stepped out of the car. “In goodness’ name, where’s the rest of you? I thought you were a great, tall, strapping boy. I hope your appetite’s bigger than your body. ”

“ I wish the school-house would burn down, hey? Murders and fires, those are the best, especially murders, because lots of people come.”
“I like fires better,” Pepsy said. “Lots and lots and lots of people go to fires.”
“Yes, and they get thirsty watching them, too,” said Pee-wee. “That’s the time to shout, ice cold lemonade.”
There was one person in Everdoze, and only one, who neither followed nor witnessed this triumphal march, which had something of the nature of a pageant. This was a little lame boy, very pale, who sat in a wheel chair on the back porch of the lowly Bungel homestead. ”

“ As Pee-wee penetrated deeper into the woods the more terrible was the masquerade of his own enticing signs. His stenciled cards, deserting their lawful mates, had struck up ghastly unions with other cards proclaiming frightful items of refreshment to the appalled wayfarer who was reminded of NON-SKID BANANAS and advised that OUR PEANUT TAFFY STICKS LIKE GLUE. The faithless TIRE TAPE which should have surmounted the STICK LIKE GLUE card was nestling under the fatal EAT, while FRANKFURTERS COLD AND COOLING and ICE CREAM SIZZLING HOT met Pee-wee’s astonished gaze. ”

“ Aunt Jamsiah says if I make a lot of doughnuts you’ll just eat them all and there won’t be any to sell. We mustn’t eat the things ourselves, must we?”
“That shows how much she knows,” Pee-wee said; “we might have to do that to make the people hungry. If they see me eating a doughnut and looking very happy, won’t that make them want to buy some? We have upkeep expenses, don’t we?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell her that,” Pepsy said, “but I never thought of it. You always think of things. ”

“ Wiggle turned back and inspected the smelly, soggy mass, found that he did not like it, took a hasty drink from the puddle under the well spout, and rejoined his companion.
It must have been close to ten o’clock when Mr. Ira Jensen, enjoying a last smoke on his porch before retiring, saw the lantern light swinging up his roadway. The next thing that he was aware of was the pungent odor of kerosene borne upon the freshening night breeze. ”