I said, "All we need now is a cloth or something to spread over it so wecan divide the letters." Because you know we use the Morse code.
So Brent said we could have his mackinaw jacket and he sent Pee-wee downto the brook to soak it in the water so that it wouldn't catch fire.That was the beginning of Brent Gaylong's bad luck. Crinkums, thatfellow must have been born on a Friday--anyway, he was born on a Fridaythat day, I guess. But one good thing about Friday, it's the day beforeSaturday. That's why there are fifty-two Good Fridays.
So then we sent the message. The first word was _Uncle_, so to spellthat we let the smudge rise for just a second, then laid Brent's jacketover it for about three seconds, then let it rise for another second,then waited about three seconds more and then let it rise for, oh, Iguess about ten seconds, maybe. That made two dots and a dash in theMorse code and it made the letter U good and big, cracky, bigger thanyou could make it on any blackboard, as big as the whole sky. Maybe itwouldn't mean anything to you, but that's because you're not a scout.But anyway it meant U. I don't mean it meant you, but I mean it meant U.
After that we made the other letters in the word Uncle--N-K-L-E--I don'tmean K, I mean C.
Then after we'd waited about a minute so as to separate the words wespelled T-O-M, and after that there was a big blot on our writing(that's what Rossie said), because Brent's mackinaw jacket burned up. Hesaid he was sorry, because there were some peanuts in one of thepockets.
Anyway he said he was willing to die for the cause, so he took off hiskhaki shirt and after Pee-wee went down and soaked it in the brook, weused that to separate the words and letters. Maybe you'll say that kindof writing isn't very neat but we knew that it could be seen for milesand miles and that if the boy scouts in Grumpy's Cross-roads saw it andread it, they'd tell Major Grumpy and he'd say the scouts were allright. Because that was our idea, we wanted those other scouts to getthe credit.
I guess maybe it took a half an hour to send that message and it didn'tlook much like a message to us. You've got to get away off if you wantto read a smudge signal. A smudge signal is no good for a fellow that'snear-sighted. When we were all finished, this is what we had printed inthe sky:
Uncle Tom show will be given as announced. Deny rumors.
Boy Scouts of America.
Pee-wee wanted to put in something about foiling the railroad strikers,but Brent said if we made the message any longer he wouldn't have anyclothes left. Harry said that if the scouts at Grumpy's Cross-roads gotthat message and delivered it to old Grump, that old Grump wouldsurrender unconditionally. So maybe we had done a good turn for all weknew. Even if the telegraph operator at Grumpy's Cross-roads should seethat smudge he'd read the message, all right. But we said that morelikely he'd he asleep and that scouts are always up early because up atTemple Camp Uncle Jeb Rushmore (he's camp manager) is always telling usthat the early bird catches the first worm. But, gee whiz, if I were thefirst worm I'd stay in bed and then the early bird wouldn't catch me.
That's what Pee-wee calls logic. That's one thing he's crazyabout,--logic. Logic and Charlie Chaplin. He likes girls, too. He saysthey always smile at him. Gee whiz, can you blame them? It's a wonderthey don't laugh out loud.
XVI--BRENT'S AMBITION
It was some job picking our way down that mountain. We could see theroad and the machines away down below us and the machines looked liketoy autos. Brent and Harry and Pee-wee and I were together and Brenttalked a lot of that nonsense like he always does. Pee-wee had theconvict's suit rolled up tight and tied with a couple of thin willowtwigs. If you wet them they're just as good as cord; you can even tiethem in a knot. He carried the bundle on the end of his scout staff andhe had his scout staff over his shoulder. He looked so important you'dthink he had just captured the convict, too.
Brent said, "That's what I call real adventure; escaping from a prisonand beating it off to some lonesome mountain and being taken away in anairplane. That fellow has old Monte Cristo beaten twenty ways. Someconvicts are lucky. I'd like to be that chap." That's just the way hetalked.
Harry said, "You might forge a couple of checks if you happen to thinkof it sometime."
Brent said in that funny way of his, "If I could only be sure ofescaping and being carried off by an airplane. But it would be just myluck to--to----"
"Languish," Pee-wee shouted; "that's what they do in jails--languish."
"And just serve out my term studying logic," Brent said. "But if Ithought there'd be a chance to escape, I think I'd--let's see, I thinkI'd--what do you think of counterfeiting, Harry?"
"Burglary's better," Harry said.
"It's the dream of my life to be a convict," Brent kept up. "Theselittle crimes don't amount to anything; what I'd like to do is to hitthe high spots, get sent up for life, and then escape in a boat or anairplane. Somebody could send me a file or a saw in a bunch of flowers.What do you say? This convict is having the time of his life. That's thelife--being a fugitive."
Harry said, "Well, I hope you get your wish."
Pee-wee said, "You're crazy, that's what I say."
I said, "Gee whiz, there's fun enough making a cross country trip infour autos and running into a stranded Uncle Tom's Cabin Company withbloodhounds and everything, without being sent to jail."
Brent said, "Well, I can't help it; that's the way I feel. I envy thatconvict. I long to languish in a dungeon cell and file away the bars inthe dead of night and kill three keepers and escape in an airplane.That's living."
"Good night," I said, "not for the three keepers."
Harry said, "Well, all things come round to him that waits. My ambitionis to be wrecked at sea. How about you, Roy?"
I said, "My ambition is to foil old Major Grumpy and make him fall forthe scouts."
"No pep to it," Brent said; "a dark and dismal dungeon with rats pokingaround on the stone floor, that's _my_ speed."
Cracky, that fellow's awful funny.
"You'd never get any dessert," Pee-wee shouted.
Brent said, "Who wants dessert when he can get a crust of bread and amug of water?"
"I do," the kid shouted. "I want two helpings."
That was _his_ ambition.
XVII--A SIDE SHOW
Pretty soon you'll see why I named this chapter "A Side Show." When wegot down to the road all those show people were sitting around on therocks talking and laughing and telling Westy lots of funny adventuresthat they had had. Oh, boy, if I wasn't a boy scout I'd like to be in anUncle Tom's Cabin Company, that's one sure thing. That's _my_ ambition.Jails and dungeons may be all right, I'm not saying, but anyway, I'dlike to be in a show--especially one that gets stranded. They said thatthey could see the signal away up on the mountain, and the man that hadto beat Uncle Tom, he was an awful nice man, he said he could read mostall of it because he used to be a telegraph operator. But he said heliked beating Uncle Tom better. Uncle Tom said he didn't mind beingbeaten once a day but he didn't like matinees.
Now I'm going to tell you about how we all got separatedtogether--that's what Pee-wee said. When we were all ready to go, Harrycouldn't start the engine of the van. He said, "Brent, I wish you'd takea squint at this motor; it heats up and the water boils over."
Brent said, "I think the timer must have been set by Pee-wee's watch."Pretty soon he said he guessed it was just a short circuit.
"Anyway, that's better than a long one," Pee-wee shouted.
Pretty soon Brent said he thought the coil was running the battery down.Harry said he didn't blame the coil.
Then Brent said there was a leak of current somewhere, but that hecouldn't trace it. I said, "Let one of Eliza's bloodhounds try; maybe hecan trace it." He said anyway the battery was discharging; believe me,if I'd had my way I'd have discharged the whole engine.
After a while Brent got it started but he said it wasn't running rightand he guessed he'd have to get two new plugs. So then we
looked at ourmap to find out if there was a village anywhere near along that roadwhere there might be a garage. Because Brent said there ought to be moregrease in the differential, too. But mostly, he said, one of the plugswouldn't fire the charge.
Westy said, "If the plug won't fire it, why don't you get the battery todischarge it?"
Now when we looked at our map we found that about half a mile east ofthat mountain a road branched off from the road we were on and wentthrough a place named Barrow's Homestead. It didn't bother to stop atBarrow's Homestead, that road didn't, but it went on and formed a, youknow, a what-do-you-call-it, a _junction_, with the other road three orfour miles farther along. It was just a kind of a loop, that road was,so as to take in Barrow's Homestead. Only that road was pretty rough.
Brent said, "I dare say we can find a young garage at that place; thereare bandits everywhere in the west. If you say so, I'll drive along thatroad and meet you where the roads join."
Harry said, "I guess that's the best thing to do--for the rest of us tokeep to the smooth, short road with the touring cars. When we get to thejunction of the two roads we'll wait for you there as long as we thinkit's safe to wait. If you don't show up by ten o'clock, say, we'll jogalong and meet you at the Veterans' Reunion at Grumpy's Cross-roads. Wedon't want to run any chance of not getting these people there on time.Uncle Tom has got to be thrashed this afternoon at any cost." Then heasked Uncle Tom if he wanted a cigarette. That man was awful nice--theman that played Uncle Tom. He said he had been thrashed twice a day forthree years, except on Sundays. Harry said it would be a good thing ifthat happened to a lot of us fellows, especially me. Anyway I'd ratherbe Eliza and be chased by ferocious bloodhounds. That's what Mr.Abbington called them--ferocious.
Now as soon as it was decided that Brent Gaylong should drive the vanalong that other road, up jumped our young hero and shouted, "I'll gowith you; maybe they sell ice cream sodas at that place."
As soon as he mentioned ice cream sodas all the other fellows saidthey'd go--except I didn't. Because I'm not crazy about an ice creamsoda. I like three or four of them though.
Harry said, "Well, it looks like a mutiny and I guess we'll have to lockevery one of you in the van."
By that time, Pee-wee was up on the seat of the van and he shouted, "Iwouldn't mute; I'm already here and I'm going to stay here!"
Harry said, "Nobody would ever think of the word mute in connection withyou; stay where you are and we'll be glad to get rid of you, and Roytoo, if he wants to go."
I said, "The pleasure is mine, I go where duty calls."
"You mean you go where ice cream sodas call," the kid shouted at me.
I said, "Well, for goodness' sake, chuck that bundle inside the van andgive me a chance to sit down, will you?" Because even still he had thatconvict's suit close by him on the seat as if he was afraid somebodywould get it away from him. "What are you going to do with it?" I said."Hang it up in the parlor when you get home?"
So then I climbed up and chucked the bundle into the van through thelittle window right behind the seat. Brent sat down between Pee-wee andme, and thus we started off. That's a peach of a word--_thus_. For alittle way we could look across to the other road and see the threetouring cars filled with the Uncle Tom's Cabin people and the otherfellows of my patrol. Mr. Abbington was sitting with Harry and he lookedawful funny with his high hat on.
All of a sudden, _good night_, that bloodhound that had been up on themountain with us came tearing across from the other road. I guess hewanted to go with us. He clambered almost up to the seat and begansniffing around Brent. I bet he liked him on account of Brent's being socrazy about adventures, hey?
Brent said, "You go back where you belong, old Snoozer. Who do you thinkI am? Eliza?"
Then Mr. Abbington began calling him and the dog didn't seem to be ableto decide what to do.
"I hear you calling me," Brent said; "go on back, Snoozer; we'll see youlater."
So then the dog went back but I guess he didn't want to. Gee whiz, youcouldn't blame him. Because one thing sure, if you stick to BrentGaylong you're pretty sure to see some fun. Believe _me_, that fellow'smiddle name is adventure. Just you wait and see.
CHAPTER XVIII--A SHOWER BATH
Brent said, "I bet Brother Abbington will be pretty hot to-day with thatfrock coat of his and that high hat."
I said, "It's going to be a scorcher, all right."
"Lucky for me," he said, "as long as my mackinaw and my khaki shirt havegone in the good cause."
"You should worry," I told him.
"Only I don't look very presentable," he said.
"Don't you care," I said; "we won't meet anybody along this road."
"It's the least of my troubles," he said; "what I'm thinking about isthis pesky engine. It jumps like a bull-frog; I think it's got the pip."
Pee-wee said, "Some engines have the sleeping sickness and they won't goat all."
Then we all got to saying how we hoped that Harry and Rossie and Tomwould get the three cars to Grumpy's Cross-roads in time so those actorpeople could give their show.
"Even if we're not with them," I said.
"I guess we'll be able to make connections before they get there," Brentsaid.
"Oh, boy, that'll be some good turn," Pee-wee said. "I bet old Grumpwon't be mad at the scouts any more; he'll see that they're dauntlessand--something or other."
"Oh, he'll see that they're something or other," Brent said. "I neverknew a scout that wasn't something or other."
"He'll see that they do good turns," the kid shouted. Gee whiz, goodturns are his favorite fruit--good turns and doughnuts. Even if he had aturning lathe he couldn't turn out any more good turns.
Now maybe you know what a tornado is. Anyway, there wasn't any that day.So you don't need to worry. But all of a sudden dark clouds came andpretty soon the sky was all black and the wind was blowing likeanything. I guess it was a cyclone, all right, only it decided not tocome that way on account of the road being so bad.
Anyway the wind kept up and blew right in our faces and after a whileBrent said, "Did you bring those old togs along, kid?"
Pee-wee said, "You mean the convict suit? It's in the van."
"Well, get me the coat and I'll slip it on," Brent told him. "We may notbe able to catch the convict, but I'm blamed sure I'll catch cold."
So Pee-wee went around and into the van by the doors in back and got theconvict's jacket. I guess none of us thought there was anything funnyabout Brent wearing it for a little while. Only I said to him, justjoking like, "You wanted to be a convict, now you've got your wish."
"If my mother could only see me now," he said. "Do I look like a zebra,Pee-wee?"
We had to laugh, he looked so funny in that striped jacket; but anywayit was a pretty lonely road and we weren't likely to meet anybody.
Pretty soon we began passing houses, and Brent took the jacket off andthrew it back into the van through the little window in front. In aboutfive minutes we came to a village. I said, "Go slow or you'll run overit." The village was almose right underneath the van. The main street ofthat village was all black and sticky from tar and oil that they hadbeen sprinkling on it and pretty soon we came to the sprinkler, standingstill right in the middle of the road, with a couple of men near it.
We had to stop because we couldn't get past, so we just sat there on theseat, watching them. The sprinkler wouldn't work and they were trying tofix it. One man was sticking a piece of wire into all the little holesalong the pipe that ran crossways at the back of the big tank.
Brent said, "They'll never fix it that way. Maybe some of those holesare clogged up, but not all of them." Then he called down to the man andsaid, "What seems to be the trouble? Won't she sprinkle?"
"Mixture's too gol darned thick, I reckon," one of the men called back.
"Well, it wouldn't clog up all the holes," Brent said; "probably thefeed pipe is clogged up."
The man said, "Well, I don't know how we're ev
er going to get at thatunless we take the whole bloomin' thing apart."
Then I heard Brent say, under his breath kind of, "I could fix that infive minutes."
"Then you have to do it," the kid shouted; "you have to do a good turn."
"Look and see if there isn't a turn cock on the feed pipe," Brent calleddown; "maybe it joggled shut. That sometimes happens on an auto."
The two men got down under the sprinkler and began looking and feelingaround, but they couldn't seem to find anything. After a couple ofminutes Brent climbed down and said, "Let's take a look at this." Iguess they could see that he was a pretty good mechanic, all right.Anyhow they stepped out of the way and Brent crawled down under thesprinkler. He lay on his back part way underneath it and we all watchedhim.
"He'll find the trouble," Pee-wee said to the man; "he's head of a scouttroop, he is, and he's resourceful. A scout has got to be resourceful.Don't you worry, we'll do you a good turn, all right."
The men kind of smiled, and one of them said, "All right, sonny. So yerfer doin' good turns, hey?"
"Sure," Pee-wee said; "that's one of our rules. If anybody's in troublewe've got to help them out--no matter how much trouble it is. You see ascout can always help you out, because he's resourceful."
One of those men said, "Oh, that's it, is it?"
"Sure," the kid shouted; "all you have to do is come to us. Even UncleSam came to us when he wanted to sell Liberty Bonds; we helped him out."
The man said, "I bet he was tickled to death."
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