“You make me tired!” Pee-wee screamed, “do you mean to say that if a fellow does a good turn to another—an old man—and it turns out to be a good turn on somebody else, and he says—the other one that has a boat—that he’ll make a lot of trouble for the other one we did a service for—do you mean to tell me that the other one has a right to say he’ll make trouble for him, and if he does we haven’t got a right to let him do a good turn to us, so that the other one we did a good turn for can get under a bridge—it’s a good turn to let _him_ do _us_ a good turn, isn’t it? Let’s hear you deny that?” “You’re talking in chunks,” Doc said; “pick up the words you spilled and straighten ’em out.” “Hold him or he’ll fall off the bridge,” Artie said. “Do you mean to tell me that we haven’t got to let him pay us back so as to save Uncle Jimmy?” Pee-wee fairly screeched. Oh, boy, you should have seen him. “There is yet time,” I said, just like an actor, sort of. I said, “There is yet time to fool him—I mean foil him. We have till Friday to accept his offer.” “Who’s got a pencil?” Pee-wee shouted. CHAPTER XXXIII SO LONG-SEE YOU LATER So that’s about all I can tell you now, but pretty soon I’ll tell you about our cruise up the Hudson and all about the fun we had on the house-boat and on Captain Savage’s tug. Oh, boy, he turned out to be one fine man. And I’m going to tell you all about Skinny too, and about the fix we got into about that tramp that slept in the house-boat. You remember that fellow, don’t you. Some scare we had, believe me. And you’ll hear about Temple Camp and Jeb Rushmore, and you’ll get to know us fellows a lot better. Gee, I hope you’ll like us. Mr. Ellsworth says I’m a pretty good author, only I took such a long run there wasn’t any space left to jump in. I should worry. Some authors don’t run at all, they only walk. Believe me, you have to drag some of them with a rope. Anyway, we’ve got acquainted now and that’s something. In the next story there’s going to be some girls—and some snakes, too. Especially one snake. Gee, but girls hate snakes—snakes and mice. Anyway, Mr. Ellsworth told me to write just the same as I talked, so if it’s no good, maybe that’s the reason. You should worry. Maybe you’ll like the next one better, hey? Anyway, you’ll like Temple Camp, that’s one sure thing.