Something bright
which they carried shone in the glare of the headlight.
"Here comes a freight," said Tom.
"Let it come, I can't stop it," said Roy. "Je-ru-salem, this can is
heavy."
"Same here," said Tom.
"I wouldn't carry another can of gas this far for a prince's
ransom--whatever in the dickens that is. Look at the blisters on my
hand, will you? Gee, I'm so hungry I could eat a package of tacks. I bet
Pee-wee's been throwing duck fits. Never mind, we did a good turn. 'We
seen our duty and we done it noble.' Some grammar! They ought to put us
on the cover of the manual. Boy scouts returning from a gasoline hunt!
Good turn, turn down the gas, hey? Did you ever try tracking a freight
train? It's terribly exciting."
"Keep still, will you!" said Tom, setting down his can. "Can't you see
I'm spilling the gasoline? Don't make me laugh."
"The face with the smile wins," Roy rattled on. "For he ain't no slouch,
but the lad with the grouch---- Pick up your can and get off the
track--safety first!"
"Well, then, for goodness' sake, shut up!" laughed Tom.
It had been like this all the way back, Tom setting down his can at
intervals and laughing in spite of himself at Roy's nonsense.
When they reached the boat Roy looked inside and called Pee-wee.
"Where is our young hero, anyway?" he said.
But "our young hero" was not there. They poured the gas into the tank
and then went inside where Roy discovered the note in the saucepan. He
read it, then handed it to Tom and the two stood for a moment staring at
each other, too surprised to speak.
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