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“Yes—but I didn’t say so.”

Lon waved a hand. “Well, now you’re started, go ahead. I’m listenin’.”

Sam hesitated. “It—it’s a long story.”

“What’s the odds? It’s a long time before we have to knock off for supper.”

“Oh, I couldn’t tell you everything.”

“Couldn’t, eh? That club o’ yourn in it?”

“Hang the club!” cried Sam hotly. “I’ll never go there again!”

Lon shook his head. “All right, maybe, only—only what do you fellers call yourselves? Beats all how I forget names!”

“It’s the Safety First Club.”

“Why, so it is! And ‘Safety First’—that’s your motto, ain’t it? Good ’un, at that! It’ll keep you out of lots of mix-ups by makin’ you stop to think twice before you do things or say things you’ll be sorry for.”

The red crept into Sam’s face. “Oh, well, Lon,” he said, “maybe I’ll go there again some time. But I wouldn’t now—you couldn’t hire me to. The way that crowd treated me——”

“Hold on! All the crowd?”

Sam reflected briefly. “Orkney wasn’t there,” he admitted. “But he’d have been as bad as the rest.”