"Oh, I see."

"A scout has to be so--kind of--you know, so honorable that nobody could
suspect him, see? If you're a scout that means that everybody knows
you're all right. There are a lot of other laws too."

"Well, here we are at the Lyric," said Mr. Bartlett, "so let's go in and
see what The Bandit of Harrowing Highway thinks about honor."

Leaving the car in front of the theatre the three elbowed their way
through the long, crowded lobby and soon Pee-wee Harris, scout, was no
longer in Bridgeboro but among rugged mountains where a man with a
couple of pistols in his belt and a hat as big as an umbrella reined up
a spirited horse and waited for a caravan and all that sort of stuff....




CHAPTER IV

THE FIVE REELER


And meanwhile something very real happened. Two men in khaki, but
without any pistols in their belts, rode slowly up to the front of the
Lyric Theatre in a big blue touring car and stopped.

It was one of those palatial cars "of a thousand delights," a new super
six Hunkajunk touring model. A couple of policemen, safeguarding the