“What’s the matter with the Raven Patrol?” the kid shouted, trying to eat a flapjack and shout at the same time.
“One good thing about them,” Westy said.
“What’s that?” Hunt asked him.
“That’s that they’re not here,” Westy said.
“The Raven Patrol will be—it’ll be flourishing when the Silver Foxes are all busted up!” the kid shouted.
“Sure,” I told him, “but not until then. Wait till you see that bunch,” I said to Warde. “They’re dead and they don’t know it.”
“They died laughing at P. Harris,” Westy said.
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” the kid shouted. “One of our patrol is camp librarian at Temple Camp.”
“They’re all highbrows,” Westy said. “They think Scott’s Emulsion is by Sir Walter Scott. They’re all busy studying monotony in that patrol.”