THE SOLEMN VOW
“Walter, what on _earth_ are you doing out there?” asked his distracted
mother.
“I’m putting up my aerial, and if Anna kept Mug in the cellar like you
told her to do, this cord wouldn’t have got all tangled up in the roof
so I couldn’t pull it away from him and he got all tangled up in it too
because Anna didn’t keep him in the cellar like you told her to do, I
heard you. And I lost a good cocoanut-ball on account of her.”
“Walter,” said Mrs. Harris. “You shouldn’t be climbing and you shouldn’t
be eating cocoanut-balls, when you’re just getting over the grippe.”
“_I didn’t eat it, I told you!_”
“Well, you come right in here and don’t you climb around on that ledge
again.”
“Then I’m going to bring my stuff through here,” Pee-wee warned, as he
climbed in through the window. “I’ve got the first part all done now and
all I’ve got to do is bring the aerial out and tie it to the cord that’s
on the roof of the porch and then all I have to do is to go down and
then climb up the tree where the other end of the cord is and that way I
can pull one end of the aerial out to the tree and after that all I have
to do is to go up and drop a cord with a lot of hooks and things on it
down onto the porch roof and get hold of this end of the aerial and pull
it up to the attic window and then I’ll have the aerial stretched from
the attic window to the tree where it can catch the sound waves, d’you
see?”
“Good heavens!” said Elsie. “Talk of sound waves!”
Pee-wee now paused to glance about at the litter which filled his
sister’s room. The multi-colored evidences of intensive manufacture were
all about, on the bed, on the collapsible cutting-table, on and about
the wicker sewing stand, in the jaws of the sewing machine. There was a
riot of color, and a kind of atmosphere of cooperative ingenuity which
even the masculine invader was conscious of. This was no ordinary task
of dressmaking. A queer-looking specimen of headgear with a facsimile
snake on the front of it testified to that.
The eyes of the rival manufacturer were attracted to this cotton-stuffed
reptile, with projecting tongue made of a bent hairpin. He glanced at a
motley costume besprinkled with writhing serpents, and among its other
embellishments he recognized one as bearing a resemblance to the sphinx
in his school geography.
Pee-wee had never inquired into the processes of dressmaking but here
was a specimen of handiwork which caught his eye and set him gaping in
wonder. Attached to the costume, which rivaled futuristic wall-paper in
its motley originality, was a metal snake with red glass eyes. It was
long and flexible. Pee-wee was a scout, a naturalist, a lover of wild
life, and he gazed longingly upon this serpentine girdle.
“Walter,” said his mother, “I want you to promise me that you won’t say
a word, _not a single word_, to _anybody_ about the costume Elsie is
going to wear at Mary Temple’s masquerade. I want you to _promise_ me
that you won’t even say that she has a big surprise. Do you think you
can——”
“I don’t see why he can’t stay in the house another two or three days,”
said Elsie, who was sitting at the machine. “If dad thinks he ought to
stay home till Monday, he certainly won’t lose much by staying home till
Wednesday. If he doesn’t go out, why then he _can’t_ talk. I don’t see
why you had to let him in.”
“Because I’m not going to have him endangering his life on that coping,”
said Mrs. Harris.
“I might just as well send an item to the _Evening Bungle_,” said Elsie,
with an air of exasperated resignation. The Bridgeboro daily paper was
named the _Bugle_, but it was more appropriately spoken of as the
_Bungle_. “_Every single_ guest at the masquerade will know I’m going as
Queen Tut long before my costume is ready,” the girl added.
“You shouldn’t have mentioned the name,” said Mrs. Harris.
“Oh, there’s no hope of secrecy now,” said Elsie. “He’s seen it, that’s
enough.”
It was at this point that Pee-wee exploded. He spoke, or rather he
roared, not for himself alone but for the Boy Scouts of America, which
organization he had under his especial care.
“That shows how much you know about scouts,” he thundered. “Even—even if
I knew—even if Queen Tut—and she was an Egyptian, you think you’re so
smart—even if she was alive and came here—for—for a visit—and it was a
secret—I wouldn’t say anything about it. Queen Tut, she’d be the one to
give it away herself because she’s a girl—I mean she was—I mean she
would be if she wasn’t a mummy, but girls can’t be mummies because they
can’t keep still. Do you mean to say——”
“I’m sure we’re not saying a word, Walter,” said his gentle mother.
“Scouts never give away secrets,” Pee-wee continued vociferously. “Don’t
you know a scout’s honor is to be trusted? It’s one of the laws. Gee
whiz! A scout’s lips are, what d’you call it, they’re sealed!”
“Yours?” laughed his sister.
“Yes, mine. Do you think I can’t keep still?”
“I wish you would then, Walter,” said his mother.
“Well, then you better tell her not to say I’m as bad as the _Bugle_
because, anyway, if anybody asks me not to give away a secret
it’s—it’s—just the same as if you locked it up in an iron box and buried
it in the ground. That shows how much she knows about scouts! Even—even
if you wouldn’t let me bring my aerial through this room so as to get it
out on the porch roof—even then I wouldn’t tell anybody what she’s going
to wear to Mary Temple’s, I wouldn’t.”
This diplomatic feeler, intended to ascertain his sister’s attitude in
regard to crossing her territory, was successful.
“What do you mean, bring your aerial through this room?” she asked.
“Don’t I have to get it out to the porch roof?” he asked. “Do you think
I can carry it along the molding outside? Do you think I’m a—a
caterpillar?”
“No, you mustn’t do that,” said his mother firmly.
“Well, then,” said Pee-wee conclusively. “Gee whiz, both of you claim to
like music and concerts and things. If I get my radio up you can hear
those things. Gee whiz, you can hear lectures and songs and all kinds of
things. You can hear famous authors and actors and everything. All you
have to do is come in my room and listen. Gee whiz,” he added wistfully,
“you wouldn’t catch _me_ giving away a secret. _No, siree!_”
“Walter,” said Elsie, trying to repress a smile. “If I let you bring
your things through here will you promise me, word of honor, that you
won’t tell Roy Blakeley or Westy Martin or Connie Bennett or any of
their sisters or any boys or girls in school or anybody at all what kind
of a costume I’m going to wear at Temple’s? The color of it or anything
about it—or the snakes or anything? Will you promise? Because it’s going
to be a _big_ surprise.”
“Do you know what a solemn vow is?” Pee-wee demanded.
“I’ve heard of them,” Elsie said.
“Well, that’s the kind of a vow I make,” said Pee-wee. “And besides
that, I cross my heart. You needn’t worry, Elsie; nobody’ll find it out.
Because, anyway, scouts don’t tell. _Geeee whiz_, you leave it to me.
Nobody’ll ever know, that’s sure. You can ask Roy Blakeley if I can’t
keep a secret.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Harris, “I think we had better go down and have some
lunch and after that you can finish what you’re doing. I do wish you
wouldn’t talk so loud, Walter.”
“In about a week, maybe not so long,” Pee-wee said, “I won’t be talking
at all, I’ll be listening all the time. I’ll be listening to Chicago and
maybe even to Honolulu, maybe.”
“You sound as if you were talking to Honolulu,” laughed Elsie. “You
remember what I said now?”
“Absolutely, positively and definitely,” Pee-wee assured her.