nge kids, you gotta get yourself a Gang. You gotta pick out some
poor mutts that don't know how to hold their end up and sock anyone
who jumps on 'em. Then they're your Gang. Pip-Emma knew on sight that
Janet couldn't hold her end up to save her neck, and that sooner or
later she, Pip-Emma, would have to sock the fat girl in the eye.

Clara VanSittart did not know this. She sat next to Emma Binns in the
Pullman, determined, without heat or anger, to explain Social Usages
and Camp Customs. But Pip-Emma did not seem to want to listen. From
her middy pocket she had produced three small sea shells and a tiny
flexible rubber ball, and she was doing things with them on the back
of her suitcase. It was Mr. Binns' favorite method of getting himself
a free drink, and Pip-Emma was no slouch herself. Also if you're
getting a Gang, you don't run after it. You let it come to you. If
kids saw you up to something they didn't understand, they flocked
round like a bunch of hungry sparrows. Gradually the Penguins' excited
chatter died down. They were watching her. They were beginning to
flock. Pip-Emma knew without looking at them. There was a lot Pip-Emma
knew, though she didn't always know she knew it.

"I don't see what you're doing," Clara said fretfully. "What is it? A
game?"

"Sure. I put the ball under one of the shells--like that--and you bet
where it is."

"All right. I bet. It's there."

"But you haven't betted anything."

Clara blushed hotly. As a well-bred Penguin, she found it impossible
to explain that all the Penguins had sacrificed their first week's
pocket money to the maintenance of Emma and their Social Conscience.

"I can't. I--I haven't anything."

"You gotta bead necklace."

"All right. I bet it."

It was incredible. Her eyes had deceived her. Pip-Emma took the
necklace. Other Penguins, shocked at their leader's failure and
convinced of their own right-sightedness, backed their guesses with
small gold rings and other detachable possessions. Janet Cooper, who
hadn't anything else, bet her Penguin Badge, which was like pledging
the family Bible. But, as it happened, Janet won. She was the only
winner. Pip-Emma nodded approval of her.

"You're not such a dumb cluck," she said.

Some Peewits, perched respectfully on the outskirts, burst into
disrespectful squeaks, and the Penguins refused to meet one another's
eyes. At that moment Prissy bore down on them. She was kind but firm.

"What a clever trick, E