Part 3 (1/2)

Roy threw the letter aside in disgust. ”That's a girl all over,” he said, as he sulkily packed his duffel bag. ”She doesn't think of what it means--she just wants it done, that's all, so she sends her what-d'you-call-it--edict. Pee-wee can't stand for a hundred and forty mile hike. We'd have to get a baby carriage!”

He went on with his packing, thrusting things into the depths of his duffel bag half-heartedly and with but a fraction of his usual skill.

”You know as well as I do about team hikes. How can we fix this up for three _now_? We've got everything ready and made all our plans; now it seems we've got to cart this kid along or be in Dutch up at Temple's.

_He_ can't hike twenty miles a day. He's just got a bee in his dome that he'd like----”

”It _would_ be a good turn,” interrupted Tom. ”I was counting on a team hike myself. I wanted to be off on a trip alone with you a while. I'm disappointed too, but it _would_ be a good turn--it would be a peach of a one, so far as that's concerned.”

”No, it wouldn't,” contradicted Roy. ”It would be a piece of blamed foolishness.”

”He'd furnish some fun--he always does.”

”He'd furnish a lot of trouble and responsibility! Why can't he wait and come up with the rest? Makes me sick!” Roy added, as he hurled the aluminum coffee-pot out of a chair and sat down disgustedly.

”_Now_, you see, you dented that,” said Tom.

”A lot _I_ care. Gee, I'd like to call the whole thing off--that's what I'd like to do. I'd do it for two cents.”

”Well, I've got two cents,” said Tom, ”but I'm not going to offer it.

_I_ say, let's make the best of it. I've seen you holding your sides laughing at Pee-wee. You said yourself he was a five-reel photoplay all by himself.”

Roy drew a long breath and said nothing. He was plainly in his very worst humor. He did not want Pee-wee to go. He, too, wanted to be alone with Tom. There were plenty of good turns to be done without bothering with this particular one. Besides, it was not a good turn, he told himself. It would expose Walter Harris to perils---- Oh, Roy was very generous and considerate of Walter Harris----

”If it's a question of good turns,” he said, ”it would be a better turn to leave him home, where he'll be safe and happy. It's no good turn to him, dragging him up and down mountains till he's so dog-tired he falls all over himself--is it?”

Tom smiled a little, but said nothing.

”Oh, well, if that's the way you feel,” said Roy, pulling the cord of his duffel bag so tight that it snapped, ”you and Pee-wee had better go and I'll back out.”

”It ain't the way I feel,” said Tom, in his slow way. ”I'd rather go alone with you. Didn't I say so? I guess Pee-wee thinks he's stronger than he is. _I_ think he'd better be at home too and I'd rather he'd stay home, though it's mostly just because I want to be alone with you.

Maybe it's selfish, but if it is I can't help it. I think sometimes a feller might do something selfish and make up for it some other way--maybe. But I don't think any feller's got a right to do something selfish and then call it a good turn. I don't believe a long hike would hurt Pee-wee. He's the best scout-pacer in your patrol. But I want to go alone with you and I'd just as soon tell Mary so. I suppose it would be selfish, but we'd just try to make up----”

”Oh, shut up, will you!” snapped Roy. ”You get on my nerves, dragging along with your theories and things. _I_ don't care who goes or if anybody goes. And you can go home and sleep for all I care.”

”All right,” said Tom, rising. ”I'd rather do that than stay here and fight. I don't see any use talking about whether it's a good turn to Pee-wee.” (Roy ostentatiously busied himself with his packing and pretended not to hear.) ”I wasn't thinking about Pee-wee so much anyway.

It's Mary Temple that I was thinking of. It would be a good turn to her, you can't deny that. Pee-wee Harris has got nothing to do with it--it's between you and me and Mary Temple.”

”You going home?” Roy asked, coldly.

”Yes.”

”Well, you and Pee-wee and Mary Temple can fix it up. I'm out of it.”

He took a pad and began to write, while Tom lingered in the doorway of the tent, stolid, as he always was.

”Wait and mail this for me, will you,” said Roy. He wrote:

”Dear Mary--Since you b.u.t.ted in Tom and I have decided that it would be best for Pee-wee to go with _him_ and I'll stay here. Anyway, that's what _I've_ decided. So you'll get your wish, all right, and I should worry.