Tom Slade at Temple Camp Part 6

"'Twasn't me," said Pee-wee, "it was the water. Gee," he added confidentially, "I often said I hated water, and I do hate a rainy day.

And if you get any water in a carburetor--_goo-od-night_! But I got to admit water's good for some things."

"Oh, I want you please to wait--just a few minutes--I want to go and speak to my father," the girl said, as the boys started to move away.

They were the only ones left now. "Please wait just a minute."

"We're on our way to Nyack," said Roy, suspecting her intention, "and I'm afraid we've lost as much time as we dare. We've got to do a little shopping there and our weather prophet here thinks we're going to have a _real_ tropical shower before long."

"But won't you let my father give you each--something? You've been so good and it's--oh--it's just _wonderful_!"

"Pee-wee, you're the doctor," said Roy.

"I got to do a good turn every day," said the "doctor," "because we're scouts and that's the rule. If we took anything for it, why, then it wouldn't be a good turn. It would spoil all the fun. We're going on a long hike, up the Hudson to our camp. We don't want to go near railroad trains--and things like that. These fellows are taking me with them; that's a good turn, but if somebody paid 'em to do it, it wouldn't be a good turn, would it? I'm thankful to you and your parrot that you gave me the chance. Now I don't have to think of a good turn again till tomorrow. Besides I just happened to know about parrots and water so it's no credit to me."

That was it--he just happened to know! It was one of the dozens of things that he "just happened to know." How he came by the knowledge was a mystery. But perhaps the best thing he knew was that a service is a service and that you knock it in the head as soon as you take payment for it.

The girl watched them, as they jumped the hedge, laughing gaily at Pee-wee's clumsiness and, waving their hats to her, took their belated way along the road.

It was not the most popular way of bringing down a bird, but there was no blood on Pee-wee's hands, and it was a pretty good stunt at that!

CHAPTER VI

THE SHELTER

"Pee-wee, you're a wonder," said Roy. "You're the only original Boy Scout; how did you get next to that stunt? What do you think of him, Tom?"

"Some wrinkle," said Tom.

"Crink.u.ms!" said Pee-wee. "I'm mighty glad I got him. If it hadn't succeeded I'd have felt cheap, sure; but when you're dealing with a girl, you always want to act as if you're sure of yourself. Do you know why?"

"Can't imagine," said Roy. "Break it to us gently."

"Because girls are never sure of themselves and they'll never take much stock in what you say unless you seem to be sure of yourself. That's one thing I've noticed. I've made a study of girls, kind of---- And you're more apt to succeed if there's a girl watching you--did you ever notice that?"

Roy laughed.

"It's so," urged Pee-wee. "And there's another thing about girls, too; they're repulsive."

"What?" said Tom.

"_What?_" said Roy.

"They say the first thing that comes into their heads."

"_Im_pulsive, you mean," laughed Roy.

"Well, they're all right on good turns," said Tom.

"They don't have any good turns in the Camp Fire Girls," said Pee-wee.

"A girl might do a good turn and you'd never know anything about it,"

said Tom, significantly.

"Cracky," said Pee-wee, "she was tickled to get that bird back."

In a little while they were tramping along the main street of Nyack, heading for the lordly Hudson. It was almost twilight, the shops were shutting their doors, and as they came around the hill which brought them face to face with the river, the first crimson glow of sunset fell upon the rippling current. Across the wide expanse, which seemed the wider for the little winding stream they had so lately followed, the hills were already turning from green to gray and tiny lights were visible upon the rugged heights. A great white steamer with its light already burning was plowing majestically upstream and the little open craft at the sh.o.r.e rocked in the diminishing ripples which it sent across the water, as though bowing in humble obeisance to it.

"Gee, it's lonely, isn't it!" said Pee-wee.

"Not getting homesick, are you, kiddo?"

"No, but it seems kind of lonesome. I'm glad there's three of us. Oh, jiminy, look at those hills."

The scene was indeed such as to make the mightiest man feel insignificant.

The map showed a road which led to Haverstraw, and this the boys decided to follow until they should find a convenient spot in which to bivouac for the night. It followed the Hudson, sometimes running along the very brink with the mighty highlands rising above it and sometimes running between hills which shut the river from their view.

"Hark," said Tom. "What did I tell you! Thunder!"

A low, distant rumble sounded, and as they paused in the gathering darkness, listening, a little fitful gust blew Pee-wee's hat off.

"We're going to get a good dose of it," said Tom. "I've been smelling it for the last hour; look at those trees."

The leaves were blowing this way and that.

"We should worry," said Roy. "Didn't I tell you we might have to get our feet wet? This is a risky bus----"

"Shut up!" said Pee-wee.

They had walked not more than a quarter of a mile more when they came upon a stretch of road which was very muddy, with a piece of lowland bordering it. It was too dark to see clearly, but in the last remnant of daylight the boys could just distinguish a small, peculiar looking structure in the middle of this vast area.

"That's a funny place to build a house," said Roy.

"Maybe it's a fisherman's shack," Tom suggested.

Whatever it was, it was a most isolated and lonesome habitation, standing in the centre of that desert flat, shut in by the precipitous hills.

"It would be a good place for a hermit," said Roy. "You don't suppose anyone lives there, do you?"

"Cracky, wouldn't you like to be a hermit! Do you know what I'd like to have now----"

"An umbrella," interrupted Tom.

The remark, notwithstanding that it shocked Pee-wee's sense of fitness, inasmuch as they were scouting and "roughing it," was not inappropriate, for even as Tom spoke the patter of great drops was heard.