“When’s the next meeting?” asked Harry.
“I don’t know. We won’t have another until somebody has thought up something. We’ll adjourn subject to the call of the president.”
“That’s great!” said Chub. “I never did that before. It makes me feel real chesty. The secretary and treasurer will kindly carry the lantern so she won’t break her neck. I hope the next time we hold a meeting the janitor will manage to have the rooms of the society a little more comfortable as regards heat. I think I have chilblains.”
“Let’s discharge that janitor,” laughed Roy as they went out.
“All right,” agreed Dick. “Who is he?”
“Methuselah,” answered Chub promptly.
Two days later Chub and Roy encountered each other in the campus. As though at a prearranged signal each exclaimed:
“Where’s Dick?”
Then again, speaking together like members of a chorus: