But then there was no necessity to pick a quarrel with Nat. Surely Mr. Holwell and big Harry Bartlett ought to be able to manage a wild team like Nat and Dit.
“Well, this is a great night for the boys of Cliffwood, according to my notion,” Dick remarked. “I’m only sorry for the fellows who can’t manage to get into the new organization, for it promises to be a big thing.”
“Think so, do you?” sneered Nat. “Well, ’cording to my mind there’s plenty of good times floatin’ all around, and you don’t have to sneeze every time Harry Bartlett or the minister takes snuff, to find ’em.”
“But you’re going in tonight, aren’t you?” asked Dan Fenwick, who was tagging along at the heels of Dick and Leslie.
“Sure we are,” replied the other, boisterously. “We took a notion we’d like to hear what’s on tap. Mebbe we’ll condescend to hand in our names along with the mob if it sounds good to us; mebbe we won’t. It all depends.”
There was nothing funny about these words of Nat’s, and yet the other two boys thought fit to start laughing again as though they could not contain themselves.
“Oh! you’ll have to please yourselves about that, I guess, Nat,” observed Dick, carelessly. “Nobody is going to be coaxed to join the club, as I understand it. So far as we’ve heard the plan outlined, I should say that the fellow who declines to enroll and obey the few rules is going to miss heaps of good times this winter.”
“Huh! mebbe now you’re givin’ me a sly dig, Dick Horner,” grunted Nat, “when you talk ’bout obeying rules.”
“No more than I was giving myself a knock, Nat, because I’ve been a pretty lively customer and hard to curb, I own up. But if the cap fits, put it on, because there are going to be rules, and Mr. Holwell has said distinctly that unless they’re lived up to no fellow will be allowed to remain a member, even if he does join.”
“Strikes me Mr. Holwell is goin’ to bite off more’n he can chew this time,” observed Nat, which started another series of loud chuckles from his “echoes.”