“I’m captain myself,” retorted Don. “It’s my idea.”
“It was Becky’s.”
“Nothing of the sort. What she said gave me the idea; and it’s a good one.”
“If you’re going to hog everything, you can get up your own marching club, and I’ll stay out of it,” said Allerton sullenly.
Don had a hot reply on his tongue’s end, but hesitated. He really wanted to help Toby Clark.
“Tell you what we’ll do, Al,” he said generously; “we’ll get up the club together and then let all the members vote which one of us shall be captain. Then the other can be first lieutenant.”
“All right,” agreed Al.
“Why don’t you both be generals?” asked Becky. “Then it would leave some offices for us girls.”
“Why, we can’t be expected to march in a parade, Becky,” said Doris chidingly. “It wouldn’t be ladylike.”
“I’m no lady, an’ I’m goin’ to march,” replied Becky, with decision. “This isn’t politics; it’s a boom for Toby Clark, the Unjustly Accused, and I’m in the game first, last an’ all the time.”