Waiting for supper was the favorite outdoor
sport at Temple Camp. Orestes was already tucked away in bed, having
dined early on three grasshoppers and an angleworm for dessert.
"That's easy," said Roy Blakeley; "Asbestos is a red--she's an
anarchist. We ought to notify the government."
"Asbestos is an I.W.W. He ought to be deported," Hervey said.
"He's a _she_," Pee-wee said.
"Just the same I'd like to know what that red streak really does mean,"
Roy confessed.
"It's better than a yellow streak anyway," Hervey laughed; "maybe it's
her patrol color."
"That's a funny thing about an oriole," another scout observed; "an
oriole picks up everything it sees, string and ribbon and everything
like that, and weaves it into its nest."
"They should worry about building material," Roy said.
"I read about one that got hold of a piece of tape and weaved it in,"
said the scout who had volunteered the information. "Maybe that's tape."
"Sure, she ought to work for the government, there's so much red tape
about her," Roy observed.
"It's the color of cinnamon taffy," Pee-wee said.
"There you go on eats again," Roy retorted; "it's the color of pie."
"What kind of pie?" Pee-wee asked.
"Any kind," Roy said; "take your pick."
"You're crazy," Pee-wee retorted.
Their idle banter was interrupted by Westy Martin of Roy's and Pee-wee's
troop who paused at the tree as they returned from the village. Westy
was waving a newspaper triumphantly.
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