"Look at those chop suey drumsticks," laughed Fly, as the Chink vanished through the doorway.
"Never recognized us," laughed Jerry, giving his sticks an extra twirl, and, consequently, producing more noise.
They saw Mr. Phipps before he sighted them. He had arisen from his seat on the veranda, where he had been enjoying his newspaper before dinner should be announced, and was looking down the road for the source of the commotion. As the boys turned sharply at the east wing of the big house, they were brought into full view. They walked steadily on, as straight as comfort would allow them, keeping step like a squad of trained soldiers, and looking neither to the left nor the right, although several of them could not help smiling. Mr. Phipps gave them one puzzled glance, then threw up his hands, and bending back his head, laughed long and loud.
"You young rascals," he roared. "Here I thought the state militia was out after my hide."
Fred led his small company around in a circle in front of the house, then made several zigzag figures which he had learned for a drill while in Cleveland. Finally they drew up, abreast, before Mr. Phipps, and, solemnly saluting, gave three hearty cheers.
"Fine, fine!" exclaimed the rancher. "My, but you all look brave and ferocious. You might be able to meet a real enemy—with his back toward you. Let's see how they fit."
The small army marched up onto the veranda, while the rancher gave them a critical survey.
"Couldn't be better," he finally announced satisfied. "Not if you had had them tailor made."
"They're certainly great," returned Fly, a little awkwardly.
Then he looked at Jerry, and the other boys followed his example.... There was a sudden silence, as they drew in a closer circle around Mr. Phipps. It had been planned that Jerry should make a short speech of thanks to their generous patron. But though he was brave enough when the suggestion was made, now that the time had come the boy felt himself growing shaky and confused.