'
Get out the oars, scouts!"
So they got out the oars and with the aid of these and a paddle
succeeded in making the shore where they tied up to the dilapidated
remnants of what had once been a float.
"There must be a village in the neighborhood," said Tom, "or there
wouldn't be a float here."
"Sherlock Holmes Slade is at it again," said Roy. It would have been a
pretty serious accident that Roy wouldn't have taken gayly. "Pee-wee,
you're appointed a committee to look after the boat while Tomasso and I
go in search of adventure--and gasoline. There must be a road up there
somewhere and if there's a road I dare say we can find a garage--maybe
even a village. Get things ready for supper, Pee-wee, and when we get
back I'll make a Silver Fox omelet for good luck."
The spot where they had made a landing was at the foot of precipitous
hills between which and the shore ran the railroad tracks. Tom and Roy,
carrying a couple of gasoline cans, started along a road which led
around the lower reaches of one of these hills. As Pee-wee stood upon
the cabin watching them, the swinging cans were brightened by the rays
of the declining sun, and there was a chill in the air as the familiar
grayness fell upon the heights, bringing to the boy that sense of
loneliness which he had felt before.
He was of the merriest temperament, was Pee-wee, and, as he had often
said, not averse to "being jollied." But he was withal very sensitive
and during the trip he had more than once fancied that Tom and Roy had
fallen together to his own exclusion, and it awakened in him now and
then a feeling that he was the odd number of the party.
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