“It’s a cinch being a patrol leader,” Dorry said.
“Keep still,” I told him, “and give me two more peanuts. Do you think I don’t know how to count? Now all raise your hands and stick your thumbs in your ears while I say the vow. Ready? Go:
“Before the sun sinks in the sink to-morrow night, we, the members of the sterling silver triple-plated Fox Patrol will plant our patrol emblem under the branches of yonder popular tree, having taken a course due west from this swing seat on my porch, and turned neither to right nor left on the way even if we have to go through school again——”
“Even if we have to go through the mathematics room,” Dorry shouted.
“And hereby we pledge ourselves with ten more peanuts each to our gallant patrol leader——”
“Have a heart,” Westy said; “what is this? A hike or a monopoly?”
“It’s a go,” I said. “Nothing will stop us now. The world must be made safe for the Boy Scouts of America! Give me another peanut, somebody. Food will win the war. Hurrah, for the Silver-plated Fox Patrol and the bee-line hike!”