For a moment a cold
shudder went over him and he stood stark still, not daring to move.
Then, believing that his imagination had played a trick, he fumbled in
his duffel bag, found his flashlight and sent its vivid gleam about the
car. A young fellow in a convict's suit stood menacingly before the door
with one hand upon it, blinking and watching the boy with a lowering
aspect. His head was close-shaven and shone in the light's glare so that
he looked hardly human. He had apparently sprung to the door, perhaps
out of a sound sleep, and he was evidently greatly alarmed. Pee-wee was
also greatly alarmed, but he was no coward and he stood his ground
though his heart was pounding in his breast.
"You ain't no bo," said the man.
"I--I'm a scout," stammered Pee-wee, "and I was going to camp here for
the night. I didn't know there was anyone here."
The man continued to glare at him and Pee-wee thought he had never in
his life seen such a villainous face.
"I'll--I'll go away," he said, "I was only going to sleep here."
The convict, still guarding the door, leered brutally at him, his head
hanging low, his lips apart, more like a beast than a man.
"No, yer won't go 'way, nuther," he finally said; "yer ain't goin' ter
double-cross _me_, pal. Wot d'yer say yer wuz?"
"A scout," said Pee-wee. "I don't need to stay here, you were here
first. I can camp outdoors."
"No, yer don't," said the man. "You stay whar yer are. Yer ain't goin'
ter double-cross _me_.
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