“Oh, I wouldn’t take any chances with them,” Brent said. “Safety first,” Hervey said. “Let them rage; we’re safe.” Then, all of a sudden, Pee-wee went up in the air. “Now I know you’re all crazy,” he said. “Do you mean to tell me that tin wedge or whatever you call that thing, can’t be pulled out very quietly——” “And break a solemn vow?” Brent asked him. “How about a scout’s honor?” “You make me tired!” he yelled. “It shows how much you know about physics, I mean ethics, I mean about how a thing can be all right if when you first said it, it wasn’t why you didn’t know how it was going to turn out.” “It’s as clear as shoe-blacking,” I said. “Why didn’t you explain all that before?” “Because you’re a lot of crazy lunatics!” he shouted. “I’m going to take that thing out——” “Have a care, Scout Harris,” I said. “Stand back; our honor is more important than a thousand jelly cones. You shall not pass.” All the while the girls were jumping around telling us not to let him and crying and starting to run away—you know how they are. I don’t know whether we would have had any jelly cones that afternoon if it hadn’t been for Hervey Willetts. All the while he was lying there on his back not paying much attention to us. All of a sudden he grabbed some leaves that were on a low branch. I guess he didn’t mean to break his promise. But anyway down came the wasps’ nest kerplunk right on him and out flew the little tin wedge. Gee whiz, that fellow was quick. In about half a second he had his leather wristlet against the hole. By that time the girls were hiding behind a tree about twenty feet away and screaming. Pee-wee was making a grand scramble for the cone form or whatever you call it, and the rest of us were laughing. There was Hervey hugging the big nest and holding his leather wristlet tight against the opening. He tried to get up with the nest in his arms and it was awful funny to see him because he didn’t have the use of one arm. “What’ll I do with it?” he asked us. “We should worry what you do with it,” I said. “Carry it around with you all afternoon, only for goodness’ sake don’t take your wrist away from the opening. I bet they’re all just crowding inside the entrance to see which one of them can be the first out.” Hervey said, “I wouldn’t mind so much being stung by one wasp, but I don’t like the idea of hugging this thing for the rest of my life. My arm’s beginning to ache, too. I can hear a buzzing inside.” I said, “Hang on to it, the plot grows thicker.” CHAPTER XVI JELLY CONES The way we fixed it was to cut a piece of birch bark off a tree and slip it between Hervey’s wristlet and the nest. Then we fastened it down tight and bound it all around every which way with fishline.