And if I tell about it you'll get a kind of a medal from our troop with your name on it.

What's your name?
Mine's Walter Harris, but the fellows in my troop call me Pee-wee, but I should worry about them.
Will you help me?
What's your name ?" "Mr.Swiper," said the stranger, rather thoughtfully; "let's go and look it over." He was certainly considering the proposition and Pee-wee accompanied him back to the lake, keeping up a running fire of enthusiastic encouragement and representing to him the delight and self-satisfaction of circumventing a pair of scoundrels.

"They've got pistols and everything," he said as a clincher, "and if they'd steal a car they'd kill somebody, wouldn't they ?" "Seventy pistols is a good many," said Mr.Swiper, incredulously.
"Sure it is," said Pee-wee excitedly; "it's more than Jesse James had.

I guess they belong to a big band of thieves, hey?
Maybe they've got a--a--a haunt on the other side of that lake, hay?
Now you can see it's good to go to the movies, hey?
Because we could never circum--foil them if I hadn't, hey?
They drove it right away from in front of the theater.
Anyway," he added excitedly as he trotted along, "I'm glad I met you because now I don't have to wake up the police or anything, hey?
And I bet Mr.and Mrs.Bartlett will be surprised when they see us bringing it back, won't they?
I'll show you where we have our meetings." Mr.Swiper was not carried off his feet by Pee-wee's excited talk.

He was thoughtful and preoccupied.
"That's one thing I have no use for--thieves," Pee-wee said.