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“Almond,” suggested Roy.

“And then when you went to the post-office you could say: ‘I’d like ten twos, please; peppermint, if you have it.’”

“You’re an awful idiot,” laughed Dick. “Give me the letter and I’ll post it on the way to the hotel. Now, let’s talk about what we’ll have to buy. Let’s figure up and see what it’ll cost us.”

“Go ahead,” said Chub readily. “I’ve got a pencil.”

“First of all, then, we’ll need a lot of provisions.”

“Unless we can persuade Chub to stay behind,” suggested Roy.

“Who thought of this scheme?” asked Chub indignantly. “I guess if any one stays behind it won’t be Chub. And likewise and moreover if Chub doesn’t have enough to eat he will mutiny.”

“Then you’ll have to put yourself in irons,” said Dick, “if you’re in command.”

“I never thought of that!” Chub bit the end of the pencil and frowned. “Maybe I’d rather be the crew than the captain. If you’re captain you can’t mutiny, and I’ve always wanted to mutiny. Say, wouldn’t it be great if we could be pirates? We could put up that skull-and-cross-bones flag and board one of the Day Line steamboats. Think of the sport we could have! We’d swipe all the grub on board of her and make the officers walk the plank! Then—then we’d scuttle her!”