"What would we call the club?" asked Hazelton.
"Why not call it the Gridley High School Canoe Club?" Dick demanded.
"Best name possible," Tom agreed.
"Some of the other high school fellows might get sore at us, though,"
Tom hinted. "They might say we had no right to take the high
school name."
"We won't take it for ourselves only," Dick smiled. "We'll keep
the club membership open to any set of six fellows who will own
and run a war canoe. We'll keep the membership as open as possible
to the high school fellows."
"Humph! And then Fred Ripley, Bert Dodge and a few others with
plenty of cash would get a canoe and insist on coming in and spoiling
the club."
"They might," Dick assented, "but I don't believe they would.
Fred Ripley, Bert Dodge and a few others of their kind in the
Gridley High School wouldn't spend five cents to join anything
we're in."
Toot! toot! sounded a whistle shrilly behind them.
Dick turned carefully to glance at the bend above them.
"Steam launch, with an excursion party," he informed the others.
"I think I see Laura Bentley and Belle Meade in the bow waving
handkerchiefs at us."
Dan Dalzell turned abruptly around. Harry Hazelton did the same.
"Look out!" cried Greg, as he shifted swiftly to steady the craft.
Just then Tom Reade turned, too. His added weight sent the canoe
careening. There was a quick scramble to right the craft.
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