small face. With the thumb and second finger of the right hand a very real piece of dirt was flipped with exquisite execution from the left shoulder. Then in pantomime Jamie’s condition was inspected through skilfully manipulated eyeglasses, that Jamie saw perfectly, even when they were not there.
“Aw, weally,” said the little Scout, “I hope you didn’t dawmadge yourself permanently.”
“No, I didn’t,” said Jamie, “and I entertain the same lively hope concerning you.”
“Aw, thanks awfully!” said the little Scout, and with a continuation of the same breath, “I betcha——” A hand dived into a pocket, brought up some small coin and inspected it carefully. The price of a hot dog and a strawberry pop were laid aside and the remainder estimated. “I betcha seven cents I can hang by one foot from the beam of the pergola right there!”
Jamie looked the situation over.
“I’m not taking your bet,” he said. “If your foot slipped and you came down there you’d knock your brains out.”
“I wouldn’t if I hit on the ground,” said the Scout Master.
“You would if you struck the stones within six inches of the ground.”
“Yes, and that’s the kick to it,” said the small person, “just to find out what I would hit on!” and immediately started scaling the pergola.
“Look here,” said Jamie, “cut that out! You aren’t
