BEE-LINES AND THINGS
Gee whiz, I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to tell her that I
was afraid she couldn't do it. But we had just seen one narrow escape
and I didn't want her to take any chances.
I said, "If you think we're mean, we'll say yes, you can go with us.
Because we owe you a lot, that's sure. I'd rather give up the whole
thing than be mean about it. And I think you're just as good at doing
things as we are. But we wouldn't do this ourselves if we weren't
already in for it. Our clothes are all torn already from going over
roofs and climbing on those ferris-wheel cars, and you'll only get your
dress all torn and what's the use?"
She just stood there a few seconds, kind of trying to make up her mind.
"You think I'm afraid," she said.
"I _don't_ think you're afraid," I told her. Pee-wee started to speak
and I told him to keep still. "But what's the good of taking a chance
and getting your dress all torn?"
She just said, very stubborn like, "I want to go and I _do_ think you're
mean if you don't let me. I'm a scout as much as you are. You think I'm
a coward. Do you think I want to go back to the village and finish a
tennis tournament after seeing the things you do?" She was almost
crying. I knew if she started to cry we'd have to let her go.
I said, "You claim you're a good scout and I say you're as good a one as
I ever saw. You saved a scout's life by doing a good turn and I guess
that's enough. But the principal thing about scouting is to finish what
you begin. That's why we're here. It doesn't make any difference whether
it's a hike or a dinner or a--tournament or what. If you begin it you've
got to finish it. If you're a quitter you're no scout. Maybe you like to
risk your life and I know you don't risk your life playing tennis. But
just the same that's _your_ bee-line hike for to-day."
"I _hate_ tennis," she said.
I said, "Yes, but you don't hate bee-line hikes and if you're supposed
to be in a tournament to-day then that's your bee-line hike. And if you
don't finish your hike you're a quitter. See?"
"I'm _not_ a quitter," she said.
"I know you're not," I told her. "So you're going back to finish the
tournament and get some practice because to-morrow afternoon I'm coming
over to Little Valley to beat you."
"_Playing tennis?_" she said.
"That's what," I told her.
"I can beat you with my left hand," she said.
"All right," I said, "I'm coming over to-morrow to find out. You go home
and practice. You finish your bee-line hike and we'll finish ours and
to-morrow afternoon at two o'clock----"
"Will you be sure to be there?" she said.
"Positively guaranteed," I told her. "Good-by."
"Why don't you say 'so long' like you do to boys?" she wanted to know.
"So long, see you later," I called.
She was awful funny, that girl.