watch our step in this jungle. Nice place to build a church, huh?" He
threw the finding light upon the little edifice ahead and brightened the
small stained-glass window, casting a soft reflection upon Deacon
Small's slanting marble slab nearby.

The small figure in a gray sweater with a rather tough look, cap drawn
over his round face, who sat huddled up alongside the driver seemed not
to partake of the delights which the big car claimed to furnish. He
seemed chilled and very much worried. He looked wistfully ahead at the
graveyard where the strange, soft, reflected light shone.

"The people around here haven't got any 'phones," he said. "Anyways
what's the use 'phoning Mr. Bartlett because he'll only be in bed. If
we're going straight to Bridgeboro, gee whiz, what's the good of
'phoning? What's the use waking people up around here, even if they have
got 'phones? Gee whiz, you're acting awful funny. Why didn't you ask me
to 'phone when we were passing through a village?"

"You're going to get out and 'phone when I tell you to; see?" said our
friend, the manual training teacher. "And you ain't going to give me no
sass neither, understand? I don't let kids tell me my business."

"You just want to get rid of me, that's what," said Pee-wee. "Gee, you
might as well say what you mean, I'm not scared."

"Oh, ain't you? Well you do as I tell you and you'll be all right. You
do as I tell you if you want to get a ride home; see? Mr. Bartlett and
me are grown-up men, we are, and we know what's the right way to do.
When a kid is told to do something he's gotter do it. You know so much
about them scout kids; don't you know that?"