id the young scoutmaster,
falling with mock weariness into a chair, throwing one knee over the
other and tossing his hat very neatly onto one foot. "My car is stalled
up the road in front of the next house. Lucky they ran out of gas.
There's a sign up there says, 'road closed,' but I can't see anything
the matter with it. Anyway, they ran out of gas and then ran out of the
machine as I make out. They deserted it when the supply gave out, I
suppose. All's well that ends well, only we need gas.

"I bet--I bet we've covered a hundred and fifty miles of territory
to-night; what d'you say, Bill?" He didn't pause long enough to give
Bill, or the Justice either, a chance to speak. "We saw the light in
your window and just came in to see if you had a gallon or so of gas.
We've got another car up yonder. Yes, sir, we've got The Bandit of
Harrowing Highway looking like a tame canary for adventures; hey Scout
Nick? Nick's our signal shark--"

Peter Piper looked at Nick with humble reverence, and backed farther
into the corner. He could not take his eyes from him.

Justice Fee was about to say, "Here is one of the culprits," but he did
not get the chance. Scoutmaster Ned had the floor, also the walls and
the ceiling. He seemed not to care anything about the culprits. All he
seemed to care about was getting his Hunkajunk car back and recounting
their adventures. Perhaps he was even a little grateful to the culprits
for affording them such opportunity for adventure. At all events, he
kicked his hat around on the end of his foot and filled the room with
his quick, breezy talk.

"Yes sir, we rode to Bridgeboro, New Jersey, got a prize cup for my
kindergarten class to try for, looked in at a show, saw a guy with a lot
of pistols, got home at about, oh I don't know--rowed over to the island
where we're camping, and these two kids rowed back to get the cup out of
the car, and found the car gone and sent a signal that nobody saw and we
came along in this fellow's Packard. Well, we've got the old Hunkajunk
back, anyway, haven't we kids? I'll say we have. These kids told the
world only the world was asleep or something. Well, we've had pretty
good luck at that, I'll say; we found the car, the school burned down--"

Suddenly, like a burst of thunder rose the recovered voice of Pee-wee
Harris, while in frantic accompaniment his feet beat the floor and his
small arms swung in wild excitement. With his deadly vocal artillery he
silenced the