<h2> <SPAN name="chp_36" id="chp_36"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXXVI </h2>
<h3> MORE HANDLING <br/> <br/> </h3>
<p>And so Peter Piper, of Piper's Crossroads, proved too much for
Scoutmaster Ned. He kept his secret. But he had a very narrow
escape from being a hero.</p>
<p>Scoutmaster Ned had his way, too. "So you think you'd like to
have a pike at that camp, eh?" he said.</p>
<p>Scoutmaster Ned's theory about camping was to keep open house. If
he lacked discipline (which it is to be feared he did) he made up
in pep, and the surprises that he was forever springing on the
camp were a perpetual joy. I suspect that he was not well versed
in his scoutmasters' handbook. He was a sort of human north wind.
He adopted the pose of being driven to distraction by "those
kids" and he denounced them roundly and said there were too many
of them and that he was going to pick out one and drown the rest.
Then he would show up with a new one. He was a sort of free-lance
scoutmaster and I wonder how he ever drifted into the movement.
Probably he didn't drift in, but blew in. Scoutmaster Safety
First (Bill) was his balance-wheel.</p>
<p>"Where is she? I'll talk to her," he said to Peter.</p>
<p>So he talked with Mrs. Piper while Peter stood by. He sat down in
the kitchen and drank a glass of milk and ate a piece of pie and
told her that it was the first real piece of pie he had ever
eaten in his life. Would he have another? Well, he'd say he
would! Mrs. Piper thought he was about the finest "young gent"
she had ever seen.</p>
<p>He told her all about his adventures of the night as if she were
a pal and when she said she had slept through all the rumpus
outside, he said, "Well, you've got West Ketchem, where I come
from, beaten twenty ways. Could I have just one little
sliver--no, not as much as that--well, all right. That town, why
you couldn't wake it up, Mrs. Piper, not with an earthquake. It
would just fall down through the crack in the earth and go right
on sleeping--no I couldn't eat another speck. We must be off."</p>
<p>"We?"</p>
<p>"Oh yes, Pete's going with me. He's going to make us a little
visit for a week or two. We have lessons and everything, study
nature, and all that, and all he wants to eat. I'll bring him
back, he wants to see the real scouts in captivity. No accounting
for tastes, hey, Mrs. Piper? You'd better bring along a coat,
Pete; but don't change your clothes, you're not going to church;
come just as you are, so I'll be able to tell you from the rest
in case I should decide to kill them all. That lets you out,
see? Come ahead before your mother changes her mind."</p>
<p>Poor Mrs. Piper had not yet made up her mind, so she could not
very well change it. Scoutmaster Ned had made up her mind for
her.</p>
<p>"I'll have to get Sally Flint ter come over and visit with me,"
said Mrs. Piper doubtfully.</p>
<p>"Just the one," said Scoutmaster Ned. "She'll keep you company
and you'll have a little peace with this youngster gone. Mrs.
Piper, if I had my way I'd chloroform every boy in creation. I
wonder you look so young with a wild Indian like that around."</p>
<p>"Oh, I ain't lookin' so young," she smiled, greatly pleased.</p>
<p>Before she realized it she was shaking hands with Scoutmaster Ned
while her other arm was around Peter. "I'm going to come here and
stay a month," the young man said. "I'm going to churn butter and
eat pie--if I can escape from that outfit. Well good-bye, we're
off. I hope the old bus runs."</p>
<p>"It looks reel smart with all the blue paint," said Mrs. Piper.</p>
<p>"Handsome is as handsome does," said Scoutmaster Ned. "Climb in,
Pete, what are you scared of? It won't eat you. Anybody'd think
you were stalking--stepping so carefully. Know what stalking is?
They'll show you."</p>
<p>Mrs. Piper stood holding her gingham apron to her eyes as they
rode off. It was of exactly the same pattern as Peter's shirt. He
looked funny sitting rather fearfully on the front seat. She had
never dreamed of seeing him enthroned amid such sumptuousness.
Perhaps some day he would go away and come back <i>rich</i>--a
hero. Her Peter. And this stranger liked him. She was weeping
because she had never heard her boy called Pete since his father
died. She liked to hear him called Pete, it was so friendly, and
recalled the past so vividly....</p>
<p>As if Scoutmaster Ned would have called him anything else than
Pete!
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