"
"Pee-wee's all right," said Tom.
"Sure he's all right. He's the best little camp mascot that ever
happened. But how are we going to take him along on this hike? And
what's he going to do when he gets there?"
"He could help us on the troop cabin--getting it ready," Tom suggested.
Roy threw the letter aside in disgust. "That's a girl all over," he
said, as he sulkily packed his duffel bag. "She doesn't think of what it
means--she just wants it done, that's all, so she sends her
what-d'you-call-it--edict. Pee-wee can't stand for a hundred and forty
mile hike. We'd have to get a baby carriage!"
He went on with his packing, thrusting things into the depths of his
duffel bag half-heartedly and with but a fraction of his usual skill.
"You know as well as I do about team hikes. How can we fix this up for
three _now_? We've got everything ready and made all our plans; now it
seems we've got to cart this kid along or be in Dutch up at Temple's.
_He_ can't hike twenty miles a day. He's just got a bee in his dome that
he'd like----"
"It _would_ be a good turn," interrupted Tom. "I was counting on a team
hike myself. I wanted to be off on a trip alone with you a while. I'm
disappointed too, but it _would_ be a good turn--it would be a peach of
a one, so far as that's concerned."
"No, it wouldn't," contradicted Roy. "It would be a piece of blamed
foolishness."
"He'd furnish some fun--he always does."
"He'd furnish a lot of trouble and responsibility! Why can't he wait and
come up with the rest? Makes me sick!" Roy added, as he hurled the
aluminum coffee-pot out of a chair and sat down disgustedly.
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