Kewpie smiled in an irritatingly superior manner and showed a purse fairly bulging with bills and silver coins. “Which,” he observed grandly, “reminds me that I owe you fellows a trifle.” The twins accepted payment without demur.
“I asked about money,” said Ned when that matter had been concluded, “because to get in on this game, Kewpie, you have to have—er—three dollars.”
Kewpie’s countenance promptly betrayed the secret thought that he could remain out and still manage to survive. Whereupon Laurie added hastily: “Of course, three dollars makes you a life member, you understand. You can become an ordinary member for two.”
Kewpie grinned and disentangled two one-dollar bills from the wad. Ned accepted them gravely. “Want a receipt?” he asked.
“Yes, I’d like a receipt for your cheek,” responded Kewpie flippantly. “Bet nobody else has put in any little old two dollars! Bet nobody else has put in two bits!”
“The books of the association are always open to inspection,” replied Ned coldly, pocketing Kewpie’s contribution.
“All right, Nid. Now, what about some pitching?”
Laurie tottered to his feet. “Come on,” he sighed. “But, oh, Kewpie darlin’, I rue the day I first looked on your ugly face!”
Later that day the initial contribution to the expense fund was augmented by like sums paid or pledged by the others, and the colossal amount of twelve dollars resulted. Laurie opined that it would suffice, since he meant to beg or borrow whenever possible. In the evening the twins went over to see Bob’s father, and that gentleman readily agreed to intercede with the Porter Quarry Company in their behalf. “I’ll stop there in the morning, boys, and see Porter himself. Bob, you stay around the telephone here, and I’ll call you up about nine.”
And at a little after nine the next morning the message came. The Porter Quarry Company, Mr. Starling telephoned, claimed no equity in the Pequot Queen, and, furthermore, would be extremely relieved to see the last of her!