ORGANIZING THE CLUB.
Promptly on time on the following Saturday the boys who had been invited to do so gathered at Link Darrow's place and mounted the stairs leading to the second floor of the carpenter shop.
"This is all right!" exclaimed Walter Bannister, as he gazed around. "Somebody must have worked hard to get this clubroom into ship-shape."
"Yes, but we have got to work harder yet to get the club into shape," put in Fred. "This is going to be no go-as-you-please affair. If we form our club and then let the clubs from other towns defeat us—why, we'll never hear the end of it, that's all."
"Who's talking defeat already?" demanded Bart Mason. "Anybody who says defeat ought to be put out."
"That's the talk!" cried Paul Shale. He swung himself up on the end of the big carpenter's bench. "We are going to win every game we play."
"Bully for Paul!" came from Matt Roscoe. "Nothing like tooting your horn, even if you haven't any fish to sell."
"Here's a bouquet for you!" sang out Matt, and threw a block of wood at him. "Now then, what's the first thing to do anyway?"
"The first thing to do is to behave yourself," answered Link.
"All right, I'll say nothing and saw wood," said Frank Pemberton, and went through the motion of sawing.