eans."

"It means what you begin a sentence with," Pepsy sobbed.

"You don't want it to be a success," he charged scornfully.

"You're a mean thing to say that," she sobbed, "and I do--I do--I do want
it to be a success--and--and--even if it isn't we'll have lots of fun if
it's just us two. Because anyway we can make believe, and that's fun."

"What do you mean, make believe?" Pee-wee demanded. "Aren't we going to
make enough to buy the tents? That shows how much you know about scouts.
If scouts make up their minds to do things they do them--and they don't
make believe. I'll give in to you about that feller but you have to say
we're not going to just make believe and play store, because that's the
way girls do. You have to say you're in earnest and cross your heart and
say we'll make a lot of money--sure."

Pepsy just sobbed. Her staunch little heart (when she would listen to
it) told her how forlorn was the hope of "really and truly" success
along that by-road through the wilderness. But the imagination which
could be terrified by the rattle of that planking on the old bridge was
quite equal to finding satisfaction in "playing store" and in seeing
customers where there were none. Pee-wee believed that anything could be
done by power of will. She would find the utmost joy in pretending. No,
not the utmost joy, for the utmost joy would be to buy the tents. ...

"You have to say we're not pretending like girls do" he insisted
relentlessly as she buried her head in her poor little thin arm and
sobbed more and more. "You have to say it. Do you cross your heart? Is
it going to be a success? Are we going to make lots of money--sure? You
have to say we're not just fooling like girls. Do you say it? You're not
just playing?"

"N--no."

"Cross your heart."

Her freckly hands went crossways on her heaving breast.

"It's business just like--like Mr. Drowser's store. Is it?"

She nodded her head.

"Say If I cross my heart and don't mean what I say, I hope to drop dead
the very same day. Say that?"

So she sobbed out those terrible words. "And you promise not to let him
come in?" she added, provisionally.

He promised and then suddenly she raised her head with a kind of jerk,
as if possessed by a sudden, new spirit of determination. Her eyes were
streaming. She looked straight into his face. There was fire enough in
her eyes to dry the tears.

"If--if you wish a thing you--you get--you get it," she gulped. "Because