One of them, a scoutmaster as Pee-wee knew, was particularly offhand and jovial and seemed to fill the room with his breezy talk.

Peter Piper stared like one transfixed; they were scouts, the kind he had read about, the kind that were on the cover of the handbook! He backed into a corner so as not to get in their way....
"Yes sir, we've had some night of it," said the young scoutmaster, falling with mock weariness into a chair, throwing one knee over the other and tossing his hat very neatly onto one foot.

"My car is stalled up the road in front of the next house.

Lucky they ran out of gas.
There's a sign up there says, 'road closed,' but I can't see anything the matter with it.

Anyway, they ran out of gas and then ran out of the machine as I make out.