lots and lots of
automobiles are coming along our road since the old bridge burned down
and it's a detour and that means hundreds and hundreds of them have to
go past our refreshment place and we're going to make lots of money.
And I thought of a dandy idea, it's what they call an inspiration. We're
going to name the place Pepsy Rest, because Pepsy will remind people to
buy chewing gum, because that has pepsin in it and as soon as you're
all well we'll start in and keep on being partners, because we have a
monopoly. Do you know what that is? It's when you can sell all you want
of something and nobody else can sell it. ...

"Mr. Jensen, he put up a sign, and he said no one should sell things on
his property and he owns all the property along the road, and you bet
everybody is scared of him. So now we're going to have a great big
business and we began as poor boys, I mean girls, I mean a boy and
a girl. So don't you believe anything that anybody tells you, not
even--not even Aunt Jamsiah. Because you know how I told you I was a
good fixer and I'm always lucky, you have to admit that."

"Can I be the one to count the money?" Pepsy asked.

"Sure, and I'll be the one to eat what's left of the things that won't
keep," said Pee-wee. "Only don't you worry no matter what you hear--"

She was on the point of telling him how Mr. Jensen had done his good
turn after all, and all about what she remembered of the previous night.
But she decided that she was not going to have a boy laughing at her and
put it within his power to call her a tell-tale cat some day. So instead
she threw her arms around him and said, "Oh goody, goody!"

You know how girls do.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE CLEW

Pee-wee never knew until now how much he cared about his little
companion of the summer and how little he cared about their roadside
enterprise except so far as she was concerned in it. All morning the
almost continuous procession passed along the road reviewed by a gaping
assemblage on the platform in front of the post office. Many motorists
who read the enticing promises along the way paused for refreshment only
to find the little rustic shelter bare and deserted.

But they were not the only ones to be disappointed. Upon the front porch
of Doctor Killem's house there sat in a wheel chair the queerest little
figure ever seen outside of a soup advertisement. He was of the kewpie
type, all head and eyes, and he had a