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THE LITTLE SCOUT ON THE WAR PATH
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handle that hose when I had it turned on full and I was scared of my life it would bust. It just wriggled and twisted like a snake, and I had to keep it close to her because, if they really began to close in, I had to beat ’em off, but I wasn’t goin’ to do it for pinging on the bean only two or three times, ’cause she had to be hurt some or she wouldn’t’ve come clean. I wouldn’t have minded if it had ’a’ been on my own side, but I hated awfully to tear up yours. You can take the hose right now and go over to my side and beat up a hole just as big as I tore up on yours.”

“You surprise me,” said Jamie. “A head as level as yours usually is! How would it help me in getting back my marigold bed to tear up a hole as big as that on your land? It wouldn’t be sensible.”

The little Scout thought it over, then looked up at Jamie with wide, tired eyes.

“Well, I can see how it would be just,” came the reply.

“Possibly,” said Jamie, “but justice and good hard common sense don’t always agree.”

Suddenly the little Scout brightened.

“Well, anyway, you aren’t the only one that got some ruination worked on you. Look what she went an’ did to the Queen’s chest! Just go in and look what she went and did to my property!”

“To the ‘Queen’s chest’?” said Jamie, “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” cried the little Scout. “I mean she had been to the shed before you locked it up, an’ got the