Now nothing happened the next week except going to school, and, gee whiz, there’s no adventure in that. The best thing about school is Saturday because there isn’t any. You can talk about Good Friday, but good Saturdays are good enough for me. Anyway, it’s funny how great men always get born on holidays, like Washington and Lincoln. That’s the thing I like best about those men—their birthdays. That’s one thing I’m thankful for about Thanksgiving, too; it always comes on a holiday. But one thing I hate, and that is hop-toads. So now that school is over for the week I’ll tell you about the big rally. Wasn’t that a quick week? Believe me, when I’m writing stories I take a hop, skip and a jump from one Saturday to another. Except in vacation. That rally was a big success. By ten o’clock on Saturday morning there were seven troops, not counting our own, in Downing’s lot ready to do or die. One came from East Bridgeboro, two came from Ennistown, one came from Northvale, one came from Little Valley, and two came from Sloan Hollow. There were seven troops and nineteen patrols. We have three patrols, so that makes twenty-two. There were a hundred and seventy-nine appetites altogether. They all wanted to know what was the big idea, so I got up on a grocery box and made a speech. General Blakeley inspiring his troops. Oh, boy! I said, “Scouts, that old railroad car over near the station belongs to us. It’s our trooproom. It has to be moved on this old track down to the river. Tony Giovettioegleirotti, who keeps that lunch wagon, has defied us. We bought twenty-four frankfurters from him and he wouldn’t move his wagon. So what are we going to do about it?” “_Foil_ him!” Pee-wee shouted. “We haven’t got any tinfoil,” someone else hollered. “Listen,” I said; “everybody keep still. We’re going to have games and scout pace races and things, but nothing to eat. Every scout has to promise that no matter how hungry he is, he won’t go over and buy anything from Tony. I’m going to appoint a committee to go over there and keep smacking their lips, but——” “I’ll be on that committee!” Pee-wee shouted. “You’ll be on the ground if you don’t keep still!” I told him. “You fellows are supposed to go over there in small detachments, kind of, and hang around, and jingle the money in your pockets, and act as if you were hungry——” “I can act that way!” Pee-wee shouted. “Sure, just act natural,” I told him. “You’ve had practice enough being hungry.” “What’s the big idea?” somebody called out.