n vacation, that Roy Blakeley, leader of the Silver Fox Patrol, and several scouts of the First Bridgeboro Troop were lined up along Bennett's counter partaking of refreshment. To be exact, they had finished and were waiting for Walter, alias Pee-wee Harris to finish, for Pee-wee had the true scout thoroughness and went down to the very bottom of things.
"How is it you boys aren't off camping this summer?" Mr. Bennett asked sociably, as he leaned against the fixtures behind the counter.
"We should worry about camp this year," Roy said. "We've been fixing up our old railroad car for a meeting-place down by the river and we're going to stay home and earn some money to buy a rowboat and a canoe and start a kind of a camp of our own down there."
"We're going to build a float," Pee-wee said, digging with his spoon.
"Sure, and a sink," Roy said, "so we can wash our hands of Bridgeboro. We'll be dead to the world down there. We're going to lead the simple life like a lot of simps. We're g