Wiggle proudly flew an inflated balloon from his tail bearing
the appropriate reminder HOT DOGS AT THE PEPSY REST.
One evening, oh, it must have been about six o'clock, the weary
partners were closing up their little shack for the night. Pepsy was
counting the money and Pee-Wee was eating the cookies that were left
over. For he was conscientious and must open shop with a fresh supply
each day. Sometimes he would have a dozen or more to eat, but he did
it bravely--from a sense of duty. A scout is dutiful.
Presently there hove in sight a large figure, walking.
"Oh, it's Mr. Jensen," said Pepsy; "hurry up and finish the
cookies or he'll want them; he always does that."
Mr. Jensen came up mopping his forehead.
"Any lemonade left?" he asked.
"There's about one glass," Pee-Wee said.
In accordance with his invariable daily custom, Mr. Jensen bought
up the remainder of stock, drank several glasses of cider, and chatted
with the partners.
"Ain't heard of any rivals, have you?" he asked. "We've got the whole
detour eating out of our hands," said Pee-Wee, which was literally true.
"Makin' money fast, huh? You takin' good care of this little gal
of mine?"
Pepsy smiled at him and he put his arm around her and kissed her
and said, "If he don't take good care of you, you just come and let
me know .
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