“Mm-m-_mm_!” I said. “Lead me to it.” “I know where there’s an old piece of tin in the woods,” Pee-wee said, all the while pushing the big lever for all he was worth; “a scout is observant.” “I could eat a sheet of galvanized iron,” I told him. “A little salt and pepper and I could eat a piece of railroad track.” “I mean to cook the fish on,” the kid said; “you’re crazy. Don’t you know how to fry a fish? I’m going to be the one to cook it because I’ve got the matches.” “Hang on to them,” I said; “things are beginning to look better. Keep pushing; think of fried fish and keep pushing.” Pee-wee began thinking harder and pushing harder; I could just _see_ him thinking. And with one hand he felt in his pocket to make sure the matches were all safe. He carries matches in a box like a cylinder that shaving soap comes in. It was kind of hard getting the bridge started but once it was started it kept moving slowly around. The reason you can move a bridge around like that is because it’s well balanced. But, gee whiz, I’m glad I’m not so well balanced because I wouldn’t have so much fun. Underneath the floor of the bridge were rollers on a track that went around in a circle. So pretty soon we had turned the bridge so that it was lengthways to the creek instead of across the creek and there was a passageway on either side of it where boats could pass. “Marooned on a desert drawbridge,” Bert said. “Poor, starving natives,” I said. Garry said, “It’s like being on an island.” “A merry-go-round, you mean,” Pee-wee said. “Let’s call it Merry-go-round Island,” Hervey sang out. Just then the boat came chugging very slowly along one side of the bridge and one of the men handed me the fish. I said, “Many thanks and more of them, mister, you saved our lives.” “Don’t let it slide out of your hands,” he said; “look out, it’s slippery.” “If you let it slip out of your hands you’ll go in after it,” Pee-wee shouted. Believe me, I kept tight hold of that fish. It was a dandy fish, it was big enough for about six people to have all they wanted. The man said, “That will keep you quiet for a while; be sure to scrape all the scales off and clean him out good.” “You leave that to us,” I told him, “we’re boy scouts. Cooking fish is our middle name. There’s only one thing we do better than cooking fish and that is eating them. We can eat them till the cows come home and sometimes the cows stay out all night where we live. Believe me, I never had much use for Henry Hudson in the history books, but I’m glad he discovered the Hudson River as well as the Hudson Boulevard.” “That’s in Jersey City,” Pee-wee shouted. “Do you think that’s named after Henry Hudson?” “It’s named after the Hudson automobile,” Garry said. “Sure it is,” I told him, “just the same as the Hudson River is named after the Hudson River Day Line; you learn that in the fourth grade; here, take this fish while I help turn the merry-go-round around, around, around. Then we’ll eat.”