“I shouldn’t mind seeing the show,” remarked Victor, “but at ten o’clock sharp to-morrow morning Uncle Ralph’s yacht pulls out.”
“And our motor car will leave about two P. M.,” said Dave. “So, unless something happens mighty soon, the adventures of the Rambler Club in this part of the country will add only a few dozen pages to my history.”
CHAPTER VI
JOE RODGERS
Early on the following morning the crowd was sitting in Bob Somers’ room at the hotel. Tom Clifton, at first just mildly vexed, threatened to become real angry. Victor’s saucy face and ready tongue promised, before very long, to call down upon his head a storm of wrath from the future physician.
“I tell you these by-laws and Bob Somers’ ball nine will make a fine stir among the chaps at the Kingswood High,” he snapped, sternly.
“Read your old by-laws,” challenged Victor, with an aggravating grin.
“I’ll not read ’em,” Tom flung back in icy tones.
“It’s all a pipe dream. Don’t believe the club will ever be formed, anyway.”
“Then don’t!”
“All right—I won’t!”