wagon is coming for you pretty soon. Over the hill to the poorhouse.
Ever hear that song? What's that you've got there, a soldier? Watcher
doing with him? Lucky kid, I'd like to be a soldier."

"What were you, a slacker?" Pee-Wee shouted.

This was not the kind of retort that Deadwood Gamely was accustomed
to hearing and he gave a quick look at the small stranger in khaki who
sat behind the counter like a judge on the bench staring straight at him.

"Don't get him riled," Pepsy whispered. "He likes to get me riled
so's just to make me feel silly; it's--it's Deadwood Gamely. He's always
togged out swell like that," she added fearfully.

"The only thing that's swell about him is his head," said Pee-Wee in
his loudest voice. "Don't you be scared of him, I'm here."

"What's that?" said the young man in a tone intended to be darkly
menacing.

"You'd better put your hat on the top of your head or it'll blow
off," said Pee-Wee. "I said that I'm here. Let's hear you deny it. If
I was a crow I might be afraid of you."

Slightly taken aback by his ready retorts, the young man could only
say, "If you were a crow, hey?" He stepped a little closer to the
counter but the ominous advance did not alarm Pee-Wee in the least. He
sat behind his card-strewn counter holding the stencil brush like a sort
of weapon ready to besmear that face of sneering assurance if its owner
ventured too near.