"Fellows," he said, "the yearlings have tried a new trick on us; and Chauncey and I have vowed to get square, right off."
Texas sprang up with a whoop that scared the sentry on the path nearby, and a "Wow!" scarcely less voluble. He demanded to know instanter what was up, and danced about anxiously until he managed to learn; when he did learn he was more excited still.
The Parson forgot his fossils, and even his "Dana" when he heard Mark's news, and he rose up and stretched his long, bony arms, inquiring with almost as much anxiety as Texas. In fact, the only one of the three who was not excited was "Sleepy." His state was that of the tramp, who answered: "Why did you come here?" "To rest." "What made you tired?" "Gittin' here."
The two other members of the Banded Seven popped into the tent just then and Mark sat down and told them all of the yearlings' plan, as soon as he could manage to get the excitable Texas quiet enough. He passed around the invitation which the rest stared at as incredulously as Mark had; and then he offered his explanation, and finding that they all seemed to agree with him, stated his purpose to retaliate, with which they agreed still more.
"Yes!" cried Texas. "Come on, let's do it. Let's bust up their ole hop! Let's raise a rumpus an' scare 'em to death! What d'ye say?"
"I don't think we had better do that," responded Mark, laughing. "Whatever trick we play has got to have something to do with hop, so as to let them know why we did it. But we broke up one entertainment not a week ago. I think it had better be a quiet trick on some of them, for you know they say that a man may play the same trick once too often."
"Let's hold up their ole band," suggested Texas, "an' run 'em into the woods an' hide 'em."
"Or else," laughed Mark, "we might dress up in the band players' uniforms and go in and play hymns for 'em. But I think somebody ought to suggest something that's possible."
"Let's put glue on the floor," hinted Indian.
"Let's dress up as girls and go," laughed Dewey.