“That’s so,” remarked Tom, “and you can knock up about as well as I can, now; but it seems kind of different with games and sports from what it does with other things that aren’t so much fun.”
“You bet it is,” chimed in Dick; “my mother gave me a letter to mail last week, and I found it in the pocket of my jacket three days after—a scout is trustworthy, eh? I tell you what it is,” continued Dick, “you know we have called ourselves a club and nobody knows it but ourselves, and we’ve been stickin’ up for each other at school and in the town when other fellows have tried to pitch into us, and that’s all right. But it seems to me that we could do more than that, and I’ll ask you two fellows to give me a dig in the ribs,—or if that doesn’t work—a punch in the nose, when you see me going to do a mean thing. I want to keep the scout law and my oath as much as I want anything, and I don’t see why you shouldn’t help me do that as well as to stick up for me when some other cove calls me names behind my back!”
Chippie and Tom looked at each other for a moment, and finally exclaimed together:
“Gee!”
“Then,” answered Tom, “why shouldn’t we all do the same thing? You know how hard it is to do things on time; and there’s no ‘being trustworthy’ unless you do. So Chippie, you and Dick just kick me out of bed when it’s time to get up, and I’ll be much obliged to you. Dad says I’m lazy, and I know he’s right, but I’ve got to learn to keep this scout law—or bust!”
All three assented cordially to the idea that they should join forces as brothers-in-arms against everything that stood in the way of their scout duty.
“I say,” cried Chippie, “this is what I call a club! And, see here, there are just three of us. Why not call it The Triangle Club?”
“And I vote,” said Tom, “we make this our motto:
“After you, Pilot!”