"I was captured by a band of Apaches," I said.

"What kind of a band?" Pee-wee yelled.

"A brass band," I told him; "a brass band of
Apaches."

"You make me sick!" he said, kind of disgusted.

"They took me to their village and were going to burn me at the stake,
only the butcher didn't bring it, then they decided they'd chop me to
pieces only the butcher didn't bring the chops--"

Oh, boy! you should have seen that kid. He fired a wet bailing sponge
at me and I dodged it and it hit one of his own patrol--kerflop! I guess
you'll think all us fellows are crazy, especially me. I should worry.
I told them I escaped in the canoe and all that kind of stuff, but at
last I told them the real story and you can bet they were glad I was
saved. They all said I had a narrow escape, and I admit it was only
about an inch wide.

Now, I have to tell you about how we floated the house-boat down to
Bridgeboro River, and maybe you'd better look at the map, hey? Oh, but
first I want to tell you about the name we gave it. Some name! We
christened it with a bottle of mosquito dope. It's regular name was all
rubbed off, so we decided we'd vote on a new name.

This is the way we fixed it. Each patrol thought of a name and then we
mixed the three names up and made one name out of them. Then you just