"We've got 'em!"
"On to the bonfire!"
"They're ours!"
"Hurray!"
"Help!"
"Help! We've got McCarty and Stover!"
Boys by the score came tearing out. The little knot under Dink became a thick, black shadow, rushing forward with hilarious, triumphant shouts. Then all at once he landed all-fours on a cart before the flaming stack, greeted by fishhorns and rattles, his name shrieked out in a wild acclaim.
"Three cheers for good old Dink!"
"Three cheers for honest John Stover!"
"Three cheers for the little cuss!"