"Good!" observed the "Major," approvingly. "You kids ain't such a pack of ninnies as I first suspicioned."

Nat Wingate's manner began to change. "Don't pay any attention to him," he said, as his brown eyes flashed ominously. "For the last time, won't you vote me in, as member number six?"

Bob smiled, but shook his head slowly.

"So I'm finally refused, eh?" exclaimed Nat, his voice betraying the fact that pent-up indignation was fast getting the better of his calmness.

"Certainly," interposed Zeke.

"Your grand club is mighty exclusive, I'm sure," continued Wingate, perceiving that his last words had made no impression on the Ramblers. "You've treated me in the meanest fashion, and I'll make you regret it, mark my words. The whole thing has been just a piece of spite work."

Nat, as he spoke, walked up and down, darting angry glances from one to the other, and his tightly clenched fists showed to what extent his passions had been aroused. Evidently the sight of the motor boat had added not a little to his already intense desire to join the party.

"You're a fine one to talk about spite work," broke in Dick Travers, whose temper was hasty. "I think you had better try to remember some of the mean things you did at school."

Bob Somers gave his friend a look which effectually stopped him from continuing, but the "Major" added fuel to Wingate's passion both by action and words. He pointed his stick threateningly toward him, exclaiming emphatically: "I ain't the kind what likes to mix up in other people's affairs, but I say, boys, you did well to keep this young scamp out."

"And what is it to you?" retorted Nat, furiously. "You and your old shack are a disgrace to the neighborhood."

"Look here, boy, you'd better be a little careful," warned Zeke. "Only the other day, about five big rocks hit my door, and I know who done it, too."

"Elect him an honorary member of the club," sneered Nat. "Oh ho, I can tell you fellows one thing, you needn't think that you are the only boys who can get up a club. As sure as my name is Nat Wingate, I'll form another; and not only that," he continued, excitedly, "but we'll follow that old mud scow and make things hot wherever you go!"

"Oh, come, Nat," returned Bob, calmly; "you seem to have misunderstood the matter entirely. Look at it in a 

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