“It’s fine!” declared Nan. “Now you must have officers.”
“What kind of officers?” asked Kid.
“Why, a—a president and a vice-president, I should think, and a secretary, and—and——”
“A sergeant-at-arms,” said Small.
“I think Bert ought to be president,” declared Lanny, “because he started it all.”
That was agreed to, and finally Lanny was made vice-president, Small sergeant-at-arms and Kid secretary.
“I think,” said Bert, “we’d ought to make Miss—make Nan a member.” Nan clapped her hands, but her face fell the next instant.
“I couldn’t be, though, because, don’t you see, the name is The Junior Four. And I’m not a junior, and I’d be the fifth.”
“You could be an honorary member,” said Lanny. And so Nan was duly elected and with a flattering unanimity. After that Small thought they ought to have a grip and showed them three he knew of. Then Lanny demonstrated one he liked and there was much handshaking and confusion for several minutes. In the end Small won and they all learned his grip. And as by that time the hour for dinner was near at hand the first meeting of The Junior Four was adjourned, subject to the call of the secretary. Kid, still smarting a little under Nan’s aspersion on his knowledge of Latin, wanted to adjourn sine die and had the pleasure of explaining that sine die meant “without day.” Small said it sounded more like “without sense” and refused to adjourn in any such manner. Nan cautioned them that it would be best to avoid suspicion, and to this end they left the stable one by one, at minute intervals; all except Small, who, left the last, refused to freeze to death for any principle or cause and sneaked out long before his time was up.