After the Packard car, with its noisy load, had started for that fairy region where they had movie shows and things and where Scout Harris lived, Peter was beset by an awful problem. He was not sleepy, he would not be sleepy for at least a year after what he had seen, and he intended to watch the car as it should be watched. The question that puzzled him was whether he dared get into it or whether he had better sit on the old carriage step. He finally compromised by sitting on the running board. And there he sat till the owl stopped shrieking and the first pale herald of the dawn appeared in the sky. And when the sun peaked over the top of Graveyard Hill and painted the tombstones below with its fresh new light and showed the gray frost of the autumn morning spread over the lonesome, bleak fields, and finally cast its cheery light upon the tiny, isolated home, it found Peter Piper, pioneer scout, of Piper's Crossroads, seated there upon the running board of Scoutmaster Ned's car, waiting for one more glimpse of those heroes.... CHAPTER XXXII ON TO BRIDGEBORO Scoutmaster Ned Garrison had a middle name. Handling parents, that was his middle name. He was a bear at that. He could make them eat out of his hand. Had he not engineered the camping enterprise pending the preparation of a makeshift school? Parents did not trouble him, he ate them alive. "You leave them to me," he said to Pee-wee as they advanced against poor defenseless Bridgeboro. "They'll either consent or we'll shoot up the town, hey, Safety First? We're on the rampage to-night; somebody's been feeding us meat." It was not Pee-wee's custom to leave a thing to somebody else. He attended to everything--meals, awards, hikes, ice cream cones, camping localities, duffel lists, parents, everything. He was the world's champion fixer. You can see for yourselves what a triumph he made of not rescuing the wrong car. That was merely a detail. If the car had been the right one and no one had stopped him from rescuing it he would have rescued it. Since everything worked out all right, he was triumphant. And he was better than glue for fixing things. "I'll handle them," he said. "Well, we'll both handle them," said Scoutmaster Ned. A little farther along the road Safety First said, "I don't see why the road was closed off. It seems to me to be all right." Pee-wee was now sufficiently subdued to think and speak calmly, and he said, "That feller with the shirt put it there; he said he read the signal. I guess he's crazy, hey?" "Oh, the fellow with the shirt?" queried Fido Norton, humorously. "I seem to remember a shirt," said Nick. "That was it," Pee-wee said. "He was just a little rube," said Charlie Norris. "He's the one that said I was a thief," said Pee-wee. "I told him I could prove I was a scout by eating a potato a certain way." "And he didn't take you up?" said Scoutmaster Ned. "He didn't have a potato," Pee-wee said.