The status quo having been restored, Skippy discarded Cæsar's "Gallic Perplexities" and returned to boyhood's first heroine, while Snorky in a rage retreated to his side of the room and pondered.
"I certainly riled him that time," said Skippy joyfully to himself. "Wonder what he'll do now?"
After a few moments Snorky began to whistle, meditating to himself, which in boyhood is always a signal that the imagination is working.
"What's the big idea now?" said Skippy, following from the corner of his eye.
Snorky rose briskly and, repairing to his closet, disappeared on all fours. A moment later he returned, with a box of large and juicy chocolate éclairs and a bottle of ginger pop, and, establishing himself at the opposite end of the table, began to enjoy himself audibly.
"The low-down hound!" said Skippy, writhing on his seat.
In his calculations, he had completely forgotten the purchase of the afternoon. In turn he rose, delved into the débris of his closet and, returning, spread before his end of the table one tin of deviled turkey (Snorky's favorite), a large piece of American cheese and a bottle of root beer.
It had now become a battle of wits, with each resolved to impress the other with the delicious satisfaction that he was experiencing and each gazing from time to time at a point directly above the other's head. There were six éclairs. Snorky ate four rapidly, licking his fingers with gusto after each.
Then he ate the fifth éclair more slowly and with some effort. Despite all his self-control Skippy's gaze could not turn from that last-surviving member of the chocolate family. He was suffering tortures, but suffering under a calm and smiling exterior.
"Hello!" said Snorky suddenly, talking to himself. "I almost forgot."