“I am sory I cannot attend on the meat to-morrow for I have inexcusably to go to the country with my famly in the automobeel. Hopping you will excuse me I am respectably yours Roger Mercer.”
“What is the pleasure of the members?” asked Art, without trying to conceal his contempt.
“I move, Mr. President,” exclaimed Wart Ware, “that Roge Mercer be expelled hereby from this club for keeps for showin’ the white feather.”
A chorus seconded the motion and the president was about to put the motion when Alex Conyers protested.
“What’s the sense of that?” he asked. “Roge is all right. Mebbe what he says is true.”
“All in favor of firin’ Roge Mercer out o’ this club say ‘aye,’” announced Art aggressively.
There was a war of “ayes,” in the midst of which one “no” was heard. But Alex made no further protest and Roger Mercer’s name was crossed from the roll.
It is proper to say, as a further historical detail, that little of the tense excitement that pervaded the Elm Street meeting was to be found at the Friday session of the “Sycamore Tree” loafers of the Goosetown gang. Certainly the latter made no preliminary preparations. Aside from Nick Apthorp and Carrots Compton, who seemed to have private griefs against any one who might be suspected of being a friend of Artie Trevor, “the milksop swell,” those who thought anything about the possible mix-up, considered it largely as a light diversion. All except Hank Milleson. Hank was not alarmed but he was doubtful.
Saturday morning the Elm Streeters had the unmistakable looks of conspirators. Their ordinary costumes had given place to old tennis trousers and shirts—Sammy Addington appeared once in heavy football shoes which, at his president’s suggestion, he removed before noon. Nearly every one had some treasured article that he put aside in Art’s tool box—knives, watch fobs, stick pins and one compass. At noon the last meal was eaten, and President Trevor checked up his full squad—not one detained by parental suspicion.