"I guess--I guess," said Nuts; "let's see--I guess some chicken wire, part of a typewriter machine and a megaphone." "You're all wrong and I'm right as you usually are," said Townsend; "he will bring back----" "Let's go in swimming," said Brownie. "Good idea," said Townsend. "Joe, I'm going to teach you to swim." Now it was right then that Keekie Joe said something which surprised them all. And it was just that little remark which showed the effects of the week's outing upon his simple mind. He had certainly not received any particular training or instruction; he had been in some measure a participant but mostly a bashful and amused witness of his companions' adventures and a silent listener to their talk. He had heard them all speak of their parents and of how this or that plan might be approved or disapproved at home. He had heard them discuss whether their parents would probably expect them home on Sunday night or early Monday morning. Perhaps it was not a sense of dutiful obedience, but rather a certain budding pride in the bosom of Keekie Joe, which caused him to make the remark which surprised them. He would let them know that he too had a parent, though no one had thought to speak of his parents. If he could not have clothes like them at least he could have obligations like them. Perhaps the true spirit of obedience was not in him. But the point is that the poor little wretch had discovered a certain pride within himself and wished to boast of a restraint which a week previously he would have ignored. He too had someone who was interested in his goings and comings. So he said, "Me mudder sez I dasn' go swimmin' widout she leaves me." It was strange how Keekie Joe, who had disregarded his poor mother's wishes on so many occasions, should present her now to his new friends. He did not have any of the things which they had, bicycles, tents, cooking sets, radio sets; but one thing he had as well as they, a mother. And so he used her as they used theirs. He played her as his only card. "Me mudder sez I dasn' go swimmin' widout she leaves me." "Good for you, Joe," said Townsend, "I'll see your mother next week and fix it. _And you do just what she told you to do till then_. You've got the right idea, Joe." And he hit Joe a good rap on the shoulder in his friendly way . . . CHAPTER XXXI A PROMISE When he had put the racing fans on the Edgemere trolley, Pee-wee, like Jack ashore, betook himself into Bridgeboro to have his fling before returning to the ship. The habit of sailors home from long voyages is well known, and we need not be surprised to find him bending his steps toward Bennett's Fresh Confectionery, where he climbed onto one of the stools before the soda fountain.