Pee-wee hesitated. "I'll take a cocoanut one," he said, "because they're small. So long, I'll see you later." Thus it was that when Pee-wee went back to the island, he did take something with him which was not named in the guessing of his friends. It was the heavy responsibility which he bore to make scouting good in the eyes of Miss Carlton. His promise, made at the altar of Bennett's candy counter and solemnized by a dozen assorted dainties, must be fulfilled. He found his friends sprawling around their dying campfire on the island. Townsend was lying on his back as usual, his hands clasped behind his head, his eyes fixed on the quiet stars. Crowds thronged the main street of Bridgeboro on that Saturday night but the island lay peacefully against the shore of the wood skirting the river and the town might have been a hundred miles off for all the campers could tell. "Well, we've had quite a week," said Townsend; "and now that we're started I hope we'll stick together and make a real, honest-to-goodness patrol. Joe is with us to the last ditch--out for the second rate badge----" "You mean the second _class_ badge," Pee-wee thundered. "Brownie is going to be steward or whatever you----" "Don't talk about stew," said Billy. "Pardon me, my fault," said Townsend, "only I'd like to rise to remark while I'm lying here that I think we're going to make a pretty nifty patrol. Joe wouldn't go in swimming on account of his mother; couldn't force him to it, so there you are." "And he's going to school Monday," said Pee-wee; "because I met his teacher in the--the--eh--the store." "Candy store?" "How did you know?" Pee-wee gasped. "Just an inspiration," said Townsend. "And I told her he's going to school every single day after this," said Pee-wee. "So are you?" he demanded of Keekie Joe. "Posilutely he is, if not more so," said Townsend. "Every day except Saturday. He's even willing to eat hunter's stew and a fellow that will do that doesn't mind school; he can stand anything. How about that, Joe?" "I gotta do what you sez," said Joe. "There you are," said Townsend. "What more do you want? We're _all_ going to school because the school won't come to us. So now let's tell riddles till we get tired of hearing each other talk and then we'll turn in. And we'll camp here all day to-morrow and to-morrow night, and the next day--school." "I know a riddle," shouted Pee-wee. "Why is a stu----" "Stop!" shouted Townsend. "I was going to ask a riddle about a stu----" A chorus of protest drowned his voice. "A stu--" he roared, "debaker. It's a riddle about a Studebaker car!" "Let's tell Ford stories!" shouted Brownie. "I know a lot of them!" shouted Pee-wee. "Why is this island like a Ford car?" Townsend asked. "Why?" "What's the answer?" "Because there are a lot of nuts on it," said Townsend. "Why is Scout Harris like a Ford? Because he's small but makes a lot of noise. Horrible! Here's a better one. Why is----"