There followed the most terrible moment in the life of Pee-wee Harris, Scout.
"I had a lot of frankfurters and things at the places along the highway," Pee-wee said.
"If you love them I should think you'd want to eat them," said Pee-wee.
Pee-wee could see the imposing procession as far down as the bend.
"I'll have a lot of those—ten cents each," Pee-wee announced.
The world seemed to be making a pathway, of rather a highway, to Pee-wee's door.
Pee-wee arose and laid one hand on the back of the hair-cloth chair.
"Sure, and I'll be the one to eat what's left of the things that won't keep," said Pee-wee.
Pee-wee's loyalty was so staunch that he did not even consider the things his aunt had said.
Pee-wee asked, hardly knowing what to think of this information.