"Can we get back to Nyack by that other road?"
"We'll have to go and see Old Man Stanton," Tom said, "then if we don't get pinched we'll start north."
"I wouldn't say we've done any damage," said Tom in his stolid way, "and I believe in that about any port in a storm. But if he's the kind of a man who would think different, then we've got to go and tell him, that's all. We can pay him for the stanchions we chopped up."
"Wall, you're a crazy youngster, that's all, but if yer sot on huntin' fer trouble, yer got only yerself to blame. Ye'll go before a justice uv the peace, the whole three uv year, and be fined ten dollars apiece, likely as not, an' I don't believe ye've got twenty-five dollars between the lot uv yer."
"Right you are," said Roy. "We are poor but honest, and we spurn--don't we, Pee-wee?"
"Poverty is no disgrace," said Roy dramatically.
The man, though not overburdened with a sense of humor, could not help smiling at Roy and he went away laughing, but scarcely crediting their purpose to venture into the den of "Old Man Stanton." "They're a queer lot," he said to himself.
Within a few minutes the boys had gathered up their belongings, repacked their duffel bags and were picking their way across the marsh toward the drier road.
"We're likely to land in jail," said Pee-wee, mildly protesting.
"It isn't a question of whether we land in jail or not," said Tom, stolidly; "it's just a question of what we ought to do."
It was a draggled and exceedingly dubious-looking trio that made their way up the main street of Nyack. They had no difficulty in finding the office of "Old Man Stanton," which bore a conspicuous sign:
"He'd--he'd have to get out a warrant for us first, wouldn't he?" Pee-wee asked, apprehensively.
"That'll be easy," said Roy. "If all goes well, I don't see why we shouldn't be in Sing Sing by three o'clock."
"We're big fools to do this," said Pee-wee. "A scout is supposed to be--cautious." But he followed the others up the stairs and stepped bravely in when Tom opened the door.
They found themselves in the lion's den with the lion in close proximity glaring upon them. He sat at a desk opening mail and looked frowningly at them over his spectacles. He was thin and wiry, his gray hair was rumpled in a way which suggested perpetual perplexity or annoyance, and his general aspect could not be said to be either conciliatory or inviting.