"Six more," cried Macnooder.
"Six it is," said Hickey, in an awed voice; "six and thirty-three makes thirty-nine!"
Mrs. Conover and Macnooder, no longer antagonists, came in from the kitchen to watch the great spectacle. Little Smeed alone, calm and unconscious, with the light of a great ambition on his forehead, ate steadily, without vacillation.
"Gee, what a stride!"
"By Jiminy, where does he put it?" said Conover, staring helplessly.
"Holy cats!"
"Thirty-nine—thirty-nine pancakes—gee!!!"
"Hungry," said Hickey, entreatingly, "do you think you could eat another—make it an even forty?"
"Three more," said Smeed, pounding the table with a new authority. This time no voice rose in remonstrance. The clouds had rolled away. They were in the presence of a master.