"I know all about signalling and you didn't get one either," Pee-wee shouted in desperation; "I know all about everything about scouting. I know--I know--I can prove I can drink out of a spring without the water going up my nose, so that's a test. I had a lot of adventures to-night, I was with thieves, and I'll tell you all--" "I know you were," said Peter, "and you needn't tell me about it because I can tell by looking at you. Do you think you can make me think you own this car, and--and get roasted potatoes from me too, and run away when I show you where the spring is so you can prove it?" "The man that owns this car is a friend of mine and he--he gave me a quarter--" "You're a thief and I don't care what you say," said Peter, his agitation rising with his anger, "and it's miles and miles to a village and there's nothing but woods--" "Scouts can eat moss, they can," Pee-wee interrupted. "And you can't fool me," Peter continued. "I'll go scout pace for you," Pee-wee said with a sudden inspiration-- "Yes, you'll go scout pacing away--" "_Will you let me speak_?" Pee-wee fairly screeched. "No, I won't. You're a robber and now you're caught and it serves you right because you didn't find out about the scouts and join them and have fun that way and then you wouldn't have to go to jail for stealing." W. Harris, mascot of the Raven Patrol, First Bridgeboro Troop, looked down with withering scorn upon this shabby advocate of scouting. And Peter Piper returned the look fearfully, yet bravely. After the tremendous thing he had done he was not going to be fooled by this hoodlum crook who seemed to have haphazard knowledge of those wonderful, far-off beings in natty khaki and shining things hanging from their belts. He would not even discuss those misty, unknown comrades with this lawbreaker. Anybody might learn a little about the scouts, even a thief. "You don't know anything about them," he said, holding up his head as if proudly claiming brotherhood with those distant heroes in their rich, wonderful attire; "I won't talk about them. Because I know about them even--even if they don't know _me_. They sent me a message; they didn't know, but they did it just the same. So I belong too. You can make believe you have a uniform--you can. You can be miles and miles and miles and miles--" He paused and listened. Down the road, in the still night, sounded the gentle melody of clanking milk cans mingled with the pensive strains of loose and squeaking wheels. It was the melodious orchestra which always heralded the approach of Ham Sanders who was so strong that he could handle a bull. "Do you think I'm scared?" said Pee-wee. Evidently he was not. CHAPTER XXV BEDLAM That Pee-wee Harris, the only original boy scout, positively guaranteed, should be pronounced _not_ a scout! Why that was like saying that water was not wet or (to use a more fitting comparison) that mince pie was not good.