If Pee-wee had remembered Roy's generous pleasure in the "parrot stunt,"
he would have been much happier, but instead he allowed his imagination
to picture Tom and Roy in the neighboring village, having a couple of
sodas--perhaps taking a flyer at a movie show.
He did as much as he could toward getting supper, and when it grew dark
and still they did not return, he clambered up on the cabin roof again
and sat there gazing off into the night. But still they did not come.
"Gee, I'm a Silver Fox, anyway," he said; "you'd think he'd want one of
his own patrol with him _sometimes_--gee!"
He rose and went down into the cabin where the dollar watch which hung
on a nail told him that it was eight o'clock. Then it occurred to him
that it would serve them right if he got his own supper and was in his
bunk and asleep when they returned. It would be a sort of revenge on
them. He would show them, at least, that he could get along very well by
himself, and by way of doing so he would make some rice cakes. Roy was
not the only one who could make rice cakes. He, Pee-wee, could make them
if nobody stood by guying him.
He had never wielded the flopper; that had been Roy's province; but he
could, all right, he told himself. So he dug into Roy's duffel bag for
the recipe book which was famous in the troop; which told the secrets of
the hunter's stew; which revealed the mystery of plum-duff and raisin
pop-overs in all their luscious details and which set you on the right
path for the renowned rice cakes.
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