That was the only shot in the whole war. It was a punk war. Harry said,
“Let the bloodshed cease; who’ll volunteer to go in as a courier?”
Pee-wee shouted, “I will.”
So Harry gave him the note and told him to stick a white popcorn bar on
a stick for a flag of truce. Honest, if you could have seen that kid
start off with the note in one hand and that popcorn flag of truce in
the other and his mouth all stuck up with licorice candy, you’d have
laughed till you cried.
We waited for about ten minutes but still he didn’t come out, so Harry
called for another volunteer and Westy went in, because he said he could
remember just what was in the note. _Good night_, he didn’t come out
again, either.
[Illustration: “WE’RE MAKING A DESPERATE CALVARY CHARGE,” SHOUTED
PEE-WEE.]
Harry said, “This is very strange; they’ve either deserted or they’re
being held as prisoners.”
Then Charlie Seabury said he’d go in, so he pinned a marshmallow onto
his buttonhole and went through the admission gate. But he didn’t come
back, either.
Pretty soon five of the fellows had gone in—all the fellows in my
patrol except myself. And none of them came back. We decided that they
were all being held as prisoners.
Harry said, “This is not civilized warfare at all—not to respect a flag
of truce.”
I said, “Gee whiz, I never heard of a fellow that wouldn’t respect a
marshmallow or a popcorn bar. Even I respect gum drops.”
Brent said, “Well, the only thing to do is to enter the grounds and
seize the rifles in the shooting gallery. If we can surround the dining
pavilion and seize all the sandwiches, we can cut off their base of
supplies and force a surrender. What say, comrades?”
Harry said that was the only thing to do so he paid fifteen cents
admission for all of us on account of that being civilized warfare. Then
we drove in, and I bet that gatekeeper thought that we were from an
insane asylum, especially when he took a good look at Brent.
And, _good night, Sister Anne_, excuse me while I laugh! What do you
think we saw when we got inside that place? About a couple of hundred
feet away was a merry-go-round, and riding around on it were our young
hero and those other four fellows, and they were all holding on to the
brass rods with one hand and eating frankfurters with the other.
“I got the brass ring! I got the brass ring!” Pee-wee shouted. “I get an
extra ridel I’m promoted from the Infantry, I’m in the Cavalry! We’re
making a desperate cavalry charge!”
Can you beat that kid?