Van nodded: "Have you ever tried Algy's cooking?"
"No, we ain't! And we ain't a-goin' to, neither!"
The others murmured their assent.
"You're a fine discriminating cluster of bifurcated, viviparous idiots," said Van in visibly disturbing scorn. "You fellows would have to be grabbed by the scruff of the neck and kicked into Eden, I reckon, even if the snake was killed and flung over the fence, and the fruit offered up on silver platters. The man who hasn't eaten one of Algy's dinners isn't fit to live. The man who refuses to eat one better begin right now on his prayers." He took out his gun and waved it loosely about, adding: "Which one of you remembers 'Now I lay me down to sleep'?"
There was no response. The ten or twelve disturbers of the peace were stirring uneasily in their tracks.
Van gave them a chance.
"All who prefer to recite, 'Now I sit me up to eat,' please raise their hands. Raise 'em up, raise 'em up!" he commanded with the gun. "Put up both hands, while you're at it."
Up went all the hands. Mrs. Dick arrived, and stood looking on and panting in excitement.
"Thanks for this unanimous vote," Van resumed. "I want to inform you boarders in particular that if ever I hear of one of you missing a meal of Algy's cooking, or playing hookey from this lodging-house, as long as Mrs. Dick desires your inglorious company, I'll hand you forthwith over to the pound-keeper with instructions not to waste his chloroform, but to drown the whole litter in a bag."
"Oh, well!" said the spokesman, "I'd just as soon eat the chink's cookin', if it's good."