Just then the plot grew thicker—oh, _boy_! One of the doors of the van opened and Pee-wee squeezed in. He had a big piece of paper in his hand. He said, “I went up the road a little way—shh!” I said, “I thought it was kind of quiet outside.” He said, “Shh, look at this; it was tacked to a tree. We’re in desperate peril——” Brent said, “In which?” “Read this,” the kid whispered. “I didn’t see it till after I threw the clothes away and they floated down the brook. Dangers thicken—look at this.” He got those words out of the movies, _dangers thicken_. Brent and I read the printing on the paper and this is what it said: ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD Offered for information leading to the recapture of Mike Donovan, alias Rinky, escaped from Indiana State Prison. Was serving term of fifteen years for burglary and child murder. Slender of stature. Five feet nine inches in height. Is supposed to have relations in the east. Age about nineteen. Is known to be a desperate character, having served terms in New York and Pennsylvania for burglary and highway robbery. There was some more, about who to notify and all that, but I can’t remember the rest. Brent took the paper from me and sat there on the grocery box in the dim light with the doors closed, reading it. It seemed awfully dark and secret, kind of, in there. He said, “Larceny, child murder, burglary, and highway robbery. That isn’t so bad, is it? That’s really more than I expected. I haven’t lived in vain.” “You’ll live in a jail, that’s where you’ll live,” Pee-wee whispered. “What are we going to do?” “You ought to know,” I told him, “a scout is resourceful.” CHAPTER XX—WE CONSIDER OUR PREDICAMENT (THAT’S PEE-WEE’S HEADING) I said to Brent, “Now you’ve killed a child and highway-robbed people and broken into houses, I hope you’re satisfied.” “And larcenied,” the kid shouted. “Shut up,” I told him; “do you want the whole town to hear you? It’s bad enough as it is; suppose somebody should come walking into this van.” Brent said, in that crazy way of his, “Boys, this is the end of an evil career. This is what comes of getting mixed up with the boy scouts. See where it has brought me. Never again will I do a good turn.” “You’re crazy,” Pee-wee shouted. “Shh,” I told him; “have a heart. Do you want to get us all pinched?” “It was about the best turn I ever did,” Brent said; “I turned the stop-cock all the way open. And here I am a prisoner in a dry goods delivery van with boy scouts for keepers. I’d be ashamed to look an honest burglar in the face.” Honest, that’s just the crazy way he talked. He said, “Now the question is to escape. I want to escape in a way that’s full of pep.” Pee-wee said, “You make me tired. Do you mean to say that good turns——” “Will you shut up about good turns, and listen?” I said.