I had to just pull his hand off my arm, he was holding so fast to it.
Cracky, I didn't know what to tell him. Then I said, "I tell you what
you do Alf." (I wasn't going to be calling him Skinny,) I said, "You go
and ask Vic Norris if he's got an awl or a small gimlet--see? Then I'll
fix it for you." Vic had charge of the locker where we kept the lights
and oil and tools and all that kind of stuff.

Pretty soon he came back with an awning needle and asked me if it would
do. I think he would have gone crazy if I had told him no.

I said, "Yes, I guess so. Come ahead, and let go my arm, do you hear?
I'm not going to run away."

Then he said, "I like you better than any of the scout guys."

"We're not guys, we're just scouts," I told him; "you can cut out the
guys. Didn't Mr. Ellsworth tell you that?"

The fellows were sitting around on the deck, reading. Some of them were
sprawling around on the cabin roof, killing time and jollying Pee-wee.
I don't know where Mr. Ellsworth was, but I guess he was inside writing
letters. Anyway, it was nice and sunny and you could see the sun in the
water. Over on shore, in St. George, I could hear a church bell and it
sounded clear. There weren't many boats out, except sometimes the boats
to Coney Island went by and we could hear the music. I thought I'd
rather be where I was, anyway. Maybe it was because it was Sunday and
because it was so still all around that I had a good idea. Anyway, I
thought it was a good idea, but _good night_, it got me into a kind of
a scrape.