fter me and trying to hook me with his cane
and somebody shouted, "What does it say on the waybill? Look on the
waybill!" And I could hear a sound like whistling. Then, good night! all
of a sudden I went kerflop off the barrel. Just then a man shouted, "All
on!" I guess he meant all _off_. Anyway, I didn't care, because I was
lying in an automobile and jogging along awful nice and easy.

In the morning I was lying on the floor of the car with my arm around
Connie Bennett's leg. Every one of those four fellows was dead to the
world. I pushed up the shutter that had slipped down, like they always
do, and looked out of the window. Right outside was a barrel. But I
didn't see General Pershing. There was a big field right near, and over
farther was a lake. It was a dandy lake, with woods on the opposite
shore. There were big high mountains, too, all bright on top, because
the sun was coming up over them.

I went out on the platform and looked up the track. I could see way far
off till the tracks went to a point. The car was on a siding. Not very
far off I could see smoke curling up and I knew there must be a house
there somewhere. On the other side from the lake was a store with a
platform in front of it. It wasn't open yet.

I went in and washed my hands and face at the water cooler, then went
out and looked again. But there wasn't anything to see, only the lake
and the woods and the smoke curling up among the trees, and the store
right near. I got out and looked at the side of the car. There was the
big sign sprawling all over it.

Buffalo 398 Mls.--BREWSTER'S CENTER--N. Y. 30 Mls.

That place wasn't Bridgeboro, that was one sure thing. Because, gee
whiz, I know Bridgeboro when I see it. And it wasn't Brewster's Centre,
either.

I went in and began shaking Pee-wee, but it wasn't any use. Then I gave
Westy a good shove and I shouted at him, "Wake up, the plot grows
thicker. We're somewhere, but I don't know where. We're lost, strayed or
stolen. Wake up, your country needs you."

He sat up in the seat, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Then he said, kind
of half asleep, "I--s--s--s--a--t--day? Wha'--we--doin'--a--a--a--here?"

I said, "It's Saturday, and we're here because we're here. But I don't
know where. There's a lake and a lot of woods and some mountains."

"Le's see 'em," he said.

"Look out of the window," I told him.

He just yawned, "Where are they? Outside?"

"They're on the landscape," I told him;