“It’s a society,” replied Sam. “Sort of a secret society. Warren got it up. Just fellows who own wheels belong. It’s to help the police stop bicycle thieves here in Central City, just like in some of the bigger cities. Over in Hammon there’s been more than two thousand dollars’ worth of bicycles stolen since the first of the year! And I guess there’ll be that many swiped here, too, if it isn’t stopped pretty quick. There’s been about twenty stolen already!” “When was this society started?” “Last night, at Warren’s. He got a lot of the fellows together by telephone and we put it right through in about twenty minutes. Chief Connell was mighty tickled when we told him about it.” “I suppose Warren’s president?” “Yes, that is, he’s chief. I’m second chief and ‘Tilly’ Cross is――――” “Of course he had to have a fancy name for it,” commented Joe. “What’s the matter with the name?” asked Sam indignantly. “If you knew your history――――” “Oh, it’s all right, I suppose. Only Warren’s always starting societies with funny names. Like during the war when he got up the Junior Secret Service and he and Talbot Fraser got pinched for looking in someone’s window one night――――” “That’s all right! The fellow was a German, wasn’t he? And even if he wasn’t a spy, he acted mighty queer. Every one said so!” “How much does it cost to get into it?” “The Vigilantes? It doesn’t cost a cent. It――it’s a patriotic organization.” “Well, if it doesn’t cost anything I guess I might go in.” “We-ell――” Sam’s tones were rather flat. “Well, you see, we’ve had to make a rule that only fellows who owned their own wheels could join. If we didn’t there’d be a lot of――of riff-raff want to come in; fellows who’d want to join just for fun or curiosity.” “I see,” nodded Joe. “Fellows like me, you mean.” “No, I don’t and you know it,” answered Sam indignantly. “You’re all right, of course. But you don’t own a wheel, and so――you see――――” “I don’t see what difference it makes whether I own this wheel or whether Donaldson and Burns own it. It’s just the same as if it was mine. I use it all the time. Besides, for that matter, it mighty near is mine now. There isn’t much left of the original affair. I put on a new fork and new chain and new saddle and handlebars and had the thing mended half a dozen times because I thought that, seeing they let me use it away from the store, it was only fair I should keep it in shape. Gee, it was just an old second-hand wheel when Mr. Burns bought it. Anyway....” “That’s right,” said Sam soothingly, “but you see how it is, old man. Rules are rules, eh?” “Sure,” agreed Joe. Then he chuckled. “Funny, though, isn’t it, that the first fellow to do any vigilanting should be me?” “We-ell,” replied Sam, “of course we don’t know yet that anything will come of it. That might not have been Warren’s wheel, you see, after all.”