"Right off the bat."
"Well, where is he?"
Little Smeed, famished to the point of tears, was thrust forward. Conover, who was expecting something on the lines of a buffalo, smiled confidently.
"So, boys, so," he said, leading the way with alacrity. "I guess we're ready, too."
"Thirty-two pancakes, Conover—and we get 'em free!"
"That's right," answered Conover, secure in his knowledge of boyish capacity. "If that little boy there can eat thirty-two I'll make them all day free to the school. That's what I said, and what I say goes—and that's what I say now."
Hickey and Doc Macnooder whispered the last instructions in Smeed's ear.
"Cut out the syrup."
"Loosen your belt."
"Eat slowly."