<h2> <SPAN name="chp_6" id="chp_6"></SPAN>CHAPTER VI </h2>
<h3> A MESSAGE IN THE DARK <br/> <br/> </h3>
<p>Pee-wee seldom had any doubts about anything. What he knew he
<i>knew</i>. And what is still better, he knew that he knew it.
No one ever had to remind Pee-wee that he knew a thing. He not
only knew it and knew that he knew it, but he knew that everybody
that he knew, knew that he knew it. As he said himself, he was
"absolutely positive."</p>
<p>Pee-wee knew all about scouting; oh, everything. He knew how and
where tents should be put up and where spring water was to be
found. He did not know all about the different kinds of birds,
but he knew all about the different kinds of eats, and there are
more kinds of eats than there are kinds of birds. How the
Bridgeboro troop would be able to get along without their little
mascot was a question. For he was their "fixer." That was his
middle name--"fixer."</p>
<p>And of all of the things of which Pee-wee was "absolutely
positive" the thing of which he was the <i>most</i> positive was
that two thieves connected with the "crime wave" were riding away
in Mr. Bartlett's big Hunkajunk "touring model" and carrying him
(a little scout model) along with them.</p>
<p>What should he do? Being a scout, he took council of his wits and
decided to write on a page of his hikebook a sentence saying that
he was being carried away by thieves, giving his name and
address, and cast this overboard as a shipwrecked sailor puts a
message in a bottle. Then someone would find the message and come
to rescue him.</p>
<p>But with what should he weight his fluttering message, so that it
would fall in the road? Pee-wee was a scout of substance and had
amassed a vast fortune in the way of small possessions. He owned
the cap of a fountain pen, a knob from a brass bedstead, two
paper clips, a horse's tooth, a broken magnifying glass, a device
for making noises in the classroom, a clock key, a glass tube, a
piece of chalk for making scout signs, and other treasures. But
these were in the pockets of his scout uniform and could be of no
service to him in his predicament.</p>
<p>The only trinket which he had was the fragment of a sandwich.
Having reduced this, by a generous bite, to one-half its size, he
wrote his note as well as he could without moving too much. One
deadly weapon he had with him and that was a safety pin. With
this he now pierced the piece of sandwich to the heart, linking
it forever with that note written tremblingly in a moment of
forlorn hope and utter darkness, under the kindly concealment of
the buffalo robe.</p>
<p>On the opposite page is the note and how it looked.</p>
<p>Having cast this last message out upon the road he withdrew his
arm cautiously back under the robe and lay as nearly motionless
as possible, prepared for the worst.</p>
<p>If he should never be heard of again, it would seem both touching
and appropriate, that this memento of him should be a morsel of
food (which he loved) fastened with a safety pin which was the
weapon that he always carried.
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/></p>
<p class="figcenter">
<SPAN name="image_2" id="image_2"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/image_2.png"
alt= ""I am being kidnapped by thieves who are stealing Mr. Bartlett's car. I don know where I am. If anybody finds this please take it my house--Bridgeborow--Walter Harris--Scouth Br.""
title="Pee-wee's Letter from the hikebook." /></p>
<p class="figcenter">
<span class="smcap">Pee-wee's letter from the hikebook.</span>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/></p>
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