“You said you could pick up any tracks and hold them,” Westy said to Pee-wee. “Let’s see you do it.” “You make me tired!” the kid yelled. “I stopped eating apple sauce on account of you.” “You would have had to stop some time,” Brent said. “No, I wouldn’t,” the kid shouted. I said, “You should have known what he meant when he said ‘heavy tracks.’” “You make me tired,” he said; “you didn’t know either.” “Sure we knew,” I said. “You’re so dumb you think a railroad track is made by a bull moose. You desert your dessert and you’ve got your just deserts, and if there’s anything we’re sorry for we’re glad of it.” “You’re all crazy!” Pee-wee yelled. Just then, _bang_, down went the window shutter of the cooking shack and then _kerplash_ we heard Hervey go tumbling into the water. _Some_ accident! “Any one hurt?” Brent called out very surprised like. “No, I just fell into the water,” Hervey spluttered. “Too bad,” said Brent. I just looked at Brent and laughed. All the while he looked very sober and innocent. I said, “You didn’t do a thing but help Hervey out.” “You mean he helped Hervey in,” Warde Hollister said. “I? What do you mean?” Brent asked us. “You had a conspiracy to circumvent my apple sauce,” the kid screamed; “_I_ know. You can’t fool me. You just deliberately on purpose stopped me from eating so Hervey Willetts could fall in the water, and you want us to think that you’re very innocent with your heavy tracks, but anyway I bet my appetite is just as heavy, and I could have prevented him from falling in the lake only you stopped me.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brent said, very surprised and innocent. Gee whiz, he and Hervey Willetts are some pair. They’ve got Bartlett pears beaten twenty ways. “You don’t mean to tell me I’d aid and abet anybody in breaking a rule, do you?” Brent said. “Oh, positively, absolutely not,” I said. “Say not so. It just happened thusly as it were by an unforeseen accident that was planned out. You’re one good fellow, Brent, you’re always helping somebody.” “I don’t know what you mean,” Brent said. “You don’t mean he helped _me_, do you?” our young Mammoth Cave wanted to know. “Didn’t you have helpings enough to-night?” I asked him. CHAPTER V PLANS So that was about all that happened that night, only that crazy song that Hervey sang when we first saw him, and Brent Gaylong marching ahead of us out of the eats pavilion is what put it into our heads to have a crazy hike like the Bee-line hike, only crazier.