“Well,” I told him, “this is a different kind of a book.”
“I often heard about how a story runs,” Harry Donnelle said, “but I never heard of one going scout pace.”
“You leave it to me,” I said, “this story is going to have action.”
Then Will Dawson had to start shouting again. Cracky, that fellow’s a fiend on arithmetic. He said, “If there are two hundred pages and thirty lines on a page, that means we’ve got to go more than one-sixteenth of a mile for every line.”
“Righto,” I told him, “action in every word. The only place a fellow can get a chance to rest, is at the illustrations.”
Dorry Benton said, “I wish you luck.”
“The pleasure is mine,” I told him.
“Anyway, who ever told you, you could write a book?” he asked me.
“Nobody had to tell me; I admit I can,” I said.
“How about a plot?” he began shouting.