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Fitzhugh, Percy Keese, 1876-1950

"Roy Blakely, Pathfinder"


"No, I don't want to find out if you've got your flashlight," I said,
"because I know you have. I'm not that kind. First you have to say I didn't
speak about the splinter for that reason." I said; "you have to take back
what you said."
"I never said you were sneaky," he said; "here, take it."
"It's no crime to have a flashlight, I hope," he said; "here take it."
"I wouldn't try to find out that way," I told him.
"I know you wouldn't," he said.
So then he held his flashlight to my finger and I said, "what do you know
about that? I'm carrying a lumber yard around with me. I _thought_ I felt
kind of heavy."
"Have you got a needle?" he asked.
"A crowbar would be better," I told him.
"Hold still," he said, and then he just pulled it out with his fingers.
"That ought to be worth a couple of dollars, hey?" I said, "with the high
cost of timber."
So then we both laughed. Anyway, Dorry and I were always good friends, you
can bet. He was just going to turn off the flashlight when I noticed that
piece of newspaper sticking out of his jacket pocket and I pulled it out,
just kind of half joking, and I said, "Here's what I want.


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