"I've forgotten it."
"Aw, think—hard."
John jabbed the muzzle of the revolver into his ribs with a steadily increasing pressure. Brown thought—hard. Finally he broke out,
"It's easy enough for you to remember. You made it up."
Which was true, for the master-at-arms, who was also the secretary, had drafted the rules and was responsible for the initiation ceremonies and passwords of the organization.
"Go on. I'll help you."
"Can't," hopelessly. "It's clean out of my head."
"Have to stay away from the meeting, then."
"Aw, John, quit your fooling. It doesn't matter."
"Here's the start. 'Oppy.'"