arlie spoke very hesitatingly. It was
a long word and threatened to catch crosswise in his windpipe and choke
him.

"Organization?" inquired Sid. "O I will show you. We had plenty of 'em in
Boston."

As Sid had just moved from the city, and especially a city so full of
knowledge as Boston, Charlie and Juggie received this piece of news with
all possible respect.

"We can make one right here," suggested Charlie.

"Yes, straight off," said the late citizen of Boston.

"But whar's de boys?" asked Juggie.

"O three will do," said Sid Waters, "for you don't want many to start
with. I know the club will be popular after she has been started. And
then, fellers," he said, in a quiet tone, "there's a better chance for
offices in a small club, you know. We can fill 'em all now and get good
berths."

It was a great temptation, but a conviction of the importance of numbers
finally prevailed. The three pioneers in this great club movement saw also
it would look better to defer all elections until others had joined, as it
would give these a chance for position. The magnanimity native to the
three conquered, and it was decided to accumulate more material before
making the club.

"We might adjourn and meet in an hour," suggested Sid. "That would give us
more opportunity to invite other fellers in."

How Charlie did admire Sid for his easy flow of language! The "lane," as
Seamont called the narrow street before the barn, was now searched for
recruits, and the barn-chamber was deserted a whole hour. The big
horse-flies sawed on their bass-viols at their leisure. The warm gold of
the sunshine undisturbed continued to decorate the floor of the chamber.
Hark! There's a noise in the yard! It grows to a harried, breathless
scramble on the stairs. Finally eight boys appeared, the future members of
the club, save one or two later additions. There was Sid or Sidney Waters,
aged eleven. He was the oldest boy present, and the brains really of the
enterprise. He was a bit vain, rather selfish, and liked to have his own
way, a very rare failing among boys. Still, he was a bright boy, and he
had his generous impulses as well as his selfish ones. Rick Grimes, aged
ten, was a stout, Dutchy kind of lad, rather slow and heavy, but
well-meaning and pretty resolute. There was also Billy Grimes, Rick's
cousin, and a year younger. You would have said that these two boys came
from the same ancestral stock when you saw their cheeks. These had a
wel