THE FIRE ALARM “You’re going, aren’t you, Ned?” “Surest thing you know!” “Will you be there, Bob?” “Of course, Jerry. It ought to be quite a meeting, I should say.” “You said something!” exclaimed Ned Slade, with an air of conviction. “Things will whoop up in great shape. Why, there hasn’t been so much excitement in Cresville since I can remember.” “Not since the old lumberyard burned,” added Jerry Hopkins, as he walked down the street, one arm linked in that of Ned Slade on his left, and the other hooked up with Bob Baker’s on his right. “It doesn’t seem possible that we’ve been drawn into this, after all the President did to keep us out; but it’s true.” “Of course it’s true!” exclaimed Ned. “The President goes before Congress and asks for the whole strength of the nation to back him up, and defy Germany. And he gets it, too!” “That’s what he does,” added Jerry. “It’s one of the strongest declarations about the war I ever read; and we’ve had a chance to read a few in the last two years. America against Germany! I never expected it, but, now it’s come, we’ll have to get in it good and strong.” “And we’ve got to hustle, too!” added Bob Baker. “That’ll be something new for you, Chunky!” observed Jerry Hopkins, with a chuckle. “You’re getting fatter than ever,” and he caught some of his friend’s superfluous flesh between thumb and finger and made Bob squirm. “Quit it!” the latter begged. “What do you think I’m made of, anyhow?” “I was just trying to find out,” answered Jerry, innocently. “’Tisn’t as firm as it might be, but when we get back to Boxwood Hall, and you have a little tennis or football to harden you up, I think you’ll feel better.” “I’d feel better right now if you’d quit pinching me!” exclaimed the tormented one. “Try it on Ned a bit.” “Oh, he doesn’t need waking up,” laughed Jerry. “But say, do we need tickets for this meeting to-night?” “I don’t believe so,” remarked Bob, whose nickname of Chunky fitted him well. “But let’s go down the street and read one of the notices. There’s one in front of Porter’s drug store. And while we’re there we can----” “Get chocolate sodas! I know you were going to say that!” broke in Ned. “Say, I thought you were on a diet, Chunky. The idea of taking chocolate! Don’t you know it’s fattening?” “Who said anything about chocolate sodas?” demanded the fat one. “I didn’t mention it!” and he glared at Ned. But Jerry was between the two. “I know you didn’t, little one!” returned Ned sweetly. “But you were going to, and I made it easy for you. However, I don’t believe one chocolate will hurt you; and since you are going to buy----” “Who said I was?” demanded Bob. “Why, didn’t you?” asked Ned, with an assumption of innocence. “I’m sure I heard Chunky invite us to have sodas. Didn’t you, Jerry?” “Sure!” was the ready answer. “Don’t try to back out, Bob. It’s too late.”