...
Pepsy had no money invested in their unprofitable enterprise, for she
had no money to invest. Neither had she any capital of scout
experience to draw upon. But one little nest egg she had. She had
once made a small deposit in this staunch institution of reciprocal
kindness. All by herself, and long before she had known of Pee-Wee
and the scouts, she had done a good turn.
According to the inevitable rule, which she did not doubt, the
principal and interest of this could now be drawn. Why not? Somewhere,
and she knew where, there was a good turn standing to her credit. It
would be paid her just as surely as that splendid punch in the nose
was paid to Beriah Bungel. And, using this good turn that was standing
to her credit, she would be the instrument which fate would choose, to
pay scout Harris back for his great sacrifice of two hundred and fifty
dollars. You see how nicely everything was going to work out.
The person who would now do Pepsy the good turn which would bring
success and fortune to their little enterprise and enable Scout Harris
to buy three tents, was Mr. Ira Jensen who lived in the big red house
up the road. A very mighty man was Mr. Ira Jensen almost as terrible
in worldly grandeur and official power as a prosecutor.
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