“Huh,” says I, “I understand options, all right, but for the life of me I can’t see what good they’re going to do us.”
I looked over at Mark Tidd, expecting him to explain, but I guess he was a little provoked at me because I didn’t think much of the whole scheme, whatever it was, and so he shut his mouth tight like the lid of a trunk and wouldn’t say a word.
“We’d better get an early start,” says he, “and t-take no chances.”
“Yes, indeed,” says Zadok.
“Are you going to c-come, Plunk?” Mark asked.
“Sure,” says I, “if I can be of any help.”
“Well,” says he, grinning a more cheerful grin than I’d seen on his face for weeks, “you can’t do any harm, anyhow.”
CHAPTER XVI
On my way home from Mark Tidd’s house—where I left Mark and Zadok Biggs eating away at a big dishpanful of popcorn and about a peck of apples—I walked down-town and past the store just to see that everything was all right. It was, so I passed on by and crossed over to take a look at the Five-and-Ten-Cent Store. Just as I got to the door out came that clerk of Jehoshaphat P. Skip’s. You should have seen him! Dressed up? Well, I should say he was! And there was perfumery on him. Now, honest, what do you think of a full-grown man that’ll douse himself with smelly stuff? He looked like he’d just stepped out of a picture in a magazine advertising some sort of a collar or patent necktie or something.
“How’dy do?” says he. “How’s the contest comin’ along?”