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Fitzhugh, Percy Keese, 1876-1950

"Roy Blakely, Pathfinder"

What's the matter?"
He said, "Nothing, I'm going to bed."
"Did you have the light?" I asked him.
"Maybe you only saw it same as I did. Only you act awful funny, sort of."
He said, "I've got as much right to be up as you have. Nobody can sleep on
that hard ground."
"Why didn't you dig a hollow for your hip?" I asked him, "same as I do.
Hard ground will never keep a fellow awake. It's your hip. Gee, you're a
scout; you ought to know that."
"Come on back," he said.
I don't know, but something about the way he acted made me feel sort of
funny-suspicious, kind of.
I said, "Were you hunting for something with your flashlight? What's the
matter? Why don't you tell me what you came out for?"
"There isn't any reason, and why should I tell you anyway?" he said.
"Well," I said, "because I'm your patrol leader for one thing. And as long
as Mr. Ellsworth isn't here, I have a right to ask you. I'm not mad. Only
I wonder why you got up and came away, that's all. Anyway, I got a splinter
in my finger grabbing one of these trees, I know that."
"You want to find out if I've got the flashlight?" he said.


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