ER VII

A BIG IDEA

They had been driving the cows home during this learned exposition on
scouting. Two things were now perfectly clear to Pepsy's simple mind.
One, that she would be loyal at any cost, loyal to her new friend, and
through him to all the scouts. She knew them only through him. They
were a race of wonder-workers away off in the surging metropolis of
Bridgeboro. She could not aspire to be one of them, but she could be
loyal, she could "stick up" for them.

The other matter which was now settled, once and for all, was that it
was all right to throw a tomato at a person you hated provided only that
you hit the mark. Aunt Jamsiah had been all wrong in her anger at that
exploit which had stirred the village. For to throw a tomato at the son
of Lawyer Gamely was aiming very high.

The son of Lawyer Gamely had a Ford and worked in the bank at Baxter
City and was a mighty sport who wore white collars and red ties and said
that "Everdoze was asleep and didn't have brains enough to lie down,"
and all such stuff.

Pee-wee let down the bars while the patient cows waited, and Scout
Wiggle (knowing that a scout should be helpful) gave the last cow a snip
on the leg to help her along.

Here, at these rustic bars, ended Pepsy's chores for the day and in the
delightful interval before supper she and Pee-wee lolled in the well
house by the roadside. Wiggle, with characteristic indecision, chased
the cows a few yards, returned to his companions, darted off to chase
the cows again, deserted that pastime with erratic suddenness, and
returned again wagging his tail and looking up intently as if to
ask, "What next?" Then he lay down panting. Mr. Ellsworth, Pee-wee's
scoutmaster, would have said that Wiggle lacked method. ...

"If I had a lot of money," Pepsy said, "you could teach me all the
things that scouts know and I'd pay you ever so much. Once I had forty
cents but I spent it at the Mammoth Carnival. I paid ten cents to throw
six balls so I could get a funny doll and I never hit the doll and when
I only had ten cents left I made believe the doll was Deadwood Gamely
and I hated and hated with all my might while I threw the ball the last
six times but I couldn't hit the doll."

"You can't aim so good when you're mad," Pee-wee said, "so if you want
to hit somebody with a tomato or an egg or anything like that you just
have kind thoughts about the person that you're aiming at, only you're