the clubhouse steps said."

There was a pause and silence, the latter broken by Danny Grin
demanding impatiently:

"Well, what did he say?"

"You see," Dick explained, "the man was all alone on the clubhouse
steps."

"Yes, yes."

"And he wasn't exactly sociable by nature."

"Go on!"

"As I have explained," smiled Dick Prescott, "the man on the clubhouse
steps was alone, and-----"

"Get ahead faster!"

"So, being alone, he just naturally said-----"

"Well?" breathed the auditors. "Well?"

"He just naturally said---_nothing_!"

"What?"

Dick dodged back, laughing. There were a few indignant vocal
explosions among the assembled youngsters, followed by dangerous
calm and quiet.

"Whenever you find yourself under trying circumstances, or when
anger is surging within you, fellows, believe me, you'll always
find it wiser to say just what the man on the clubhouse steps
said---which was nothing," Dick urged.

"And you got us all the way up here, at an appointed time, just
to hear that?" demanded Spoff Henderson.

"It's worth the time it has cost you," Dick urged.

"Rush him fellows!" bawled Toby Ross. "Don't let him escape!"

Indeed, there was no time or chance for getting away. Dick Prescott
was rushed, caught and pinned.

"What'll we do with him?" rose the chorus.

"To the fountain! Duck him!"

With a cheer the boys started, carrying Dick along on the shoulders
of a few tightly-wedged boys.

Dick's chums made no effort to rescue him. Indeed, perhaps they
felt that he deserved what was right ahead of him. But they ran
along in the press of boisterous lads.

Len Spencer, grinning hard, rushed along at the head of the juvenile
mob.

"Boys, you'd better reconsider!" shouted the young reporter.
"Don't write yourselves down as louts. The man on the clubhouse
steps, on account of just what he said, proved himself one of
the sages of the ages. Prescott, in telling you just what he
said, has performed a public service, if only you fellows were
bright enough to comprehend."

"Get out of our way, Spencer!" ordered Spoff Henderson. "As sure
as guns we're going to duck Dick Prescott in the public fountain."

"If you won't listen to reason, then," roared Len, using his long
legs to put him well in advance of the juvenile mob, "then I'll
use enchantment to spoil your foolish work. You shall not duck
Prescott! Hi, pi, yi, animus, hocus pocus! That enchantment
will foil you!"

Having reached the fountai