As they approached the little garage it had a strange, uninviting look; it looked different. There was not that suggestion of open hospitality which it had shown when Lizzie rolled majestically in and awoke the dim echoes of the interior with her rich, modulated voice. In plain fact the garage was closed, its two big doors linked together by a huge, cold-hearted padlock. And no sign of human life was there anywhere about the place. CHAPTER XXXI TOWNSEND’S MIDDLE NAME For a full half minute neither spoke and there was no sound but the heartless clanking of the padlock as Townsend shook it. There was no deception there—it was locked _tight_. “Let’s walk around it,” said Townsend. They reconnoitered about the little wooden building almost too dumbfounded to speak. Townsend glanced in through a side window. “Look in there,” he said. “Is he in there—_dead_?” Pee-wee asked in his dramatic whisper. “No, we’re out here dead,” said Townsend. Pee-wee stood on tiptoe and beheld a frightful sight. There was Lizzie, apparently repaired and ready for departure. Upon the rear seat reposed a greasy bundle—_bacon_. Cans of beans and salmon and spaghetti lay close by. The bag of rice nestled close to the bottle of molasses, as it should have done, since they always joined forces to create the luscious rice cake. The wire sticker with which Pee-wee stabbed his rice cakes to the heart, now stuck up out of some cavern in the threadbare upholstery and pointed at Pee-wee, as if in mockery. “Dead?” moaned Townsend. “In another hour _I’ll_ be dead.” “Do you see the raisins?” Pee-wee asked. “Over there in the corner? I was going to mix them up in—” “Have a heart, Kid.” “I can see the end of a banana too. Do you see the toaster? What are we going to do? It makes me hungrier, doesn’t it you?” “Come away,” said Townsend; “don’t look.” But Pee-wee’s departing gaze still lingered. “I see the egg powder,” he said; “right next to the fruit crackers, do you see it?” Townsend stopped his ears, withdrew and sat down on the grass. Famished as he was, he could not repress a laugh. “How about some sassafras and birch bark, Kid?” he said. “Scouts can’t starve.” “I can see the two ears of corn on the floor,” said Pee-wee, still standing on tiptoe. “I was going to roast them.” “How about some nice herbs? Browned in the pan?” Townsend asked. “I wasn’t talking about scouts except when they’re lost,” said Pee-wee. “That shows how much sense you have. _Are we in the North Woods?_ Answer me that—are we in the North Woods? Scouts have to have resources, don’t they?” “Yes, but ours are all locked in there,” said Townsend. “We have to find out where the man lives,” said Pee-wee; “he lives in the village; I’m going to find him.”