e a splendid game! Let's
pretend we're the Secret Party!"

He was tremendously excited. Out of the ragged pocket he fished a
piece of chalk. Then he leaned forward and began to draw something
quickly on the flagstones closest to his platform. The Squad leaned
forward also, quite breathlessly, and Marco leaned forward. The chalk
was sketching a roughly outlined map, and he knew what map it was,
before The Rat spoke.

"That's a map of Samavia," he said. "It was in that piece of magazine
I told you about--the one where I read about Prince Ivor. I studied it
until it fell to pieces. But I could draw it myself by that time, so
it didn't matter. I could draw it with my eyes shut. That's the
capital city," pointing to a spot. "It's called Melzarr. The palace is
there. It's the place where the first of the Maranovitch killed the
last of the Fedorovitch--the bad chap that was Ivor's father. It's
the palace Ivor wandered out of singing the shepherds' song that early
morning. It's where the throne is that his descendant would sit upon
to be crowned--that he's GOING to sit upon. I believe he is! Let's
swear he shall!" He flung down his piece of chalk and sat up. "Give
me two sticks. Help me to get up."

Two of the Squad sprang to their feet and came to him. Each snatched
one of the sticks from the stacked rifles, evidently knowing what he
wanted. Marco rose too, and watched with sudden, keen curiosity. He
had thought that The Rat could not stand up, but it seemed that he
could, in a fashion of his own, and he was going to do it. The boys
lifted him by his arms, set him against the stone coping of the iron
railings of the churchyard, and put a stick in each of his hands. They
stood at his side, but he supported himself.

"'E could get about if 'e 'ad the money to buy crutches!" said one
whose name was Cad, and he said it quite proudly. The queer thing that
Marco had noticed was that the ragamuffins were proud of The Rat, and
regarded him as their lord and master. "--'E could get about an' stand
as well as any one," added the other, and he said it in the tone of one
who boasts. His name was Ben.

"I'm going to stand now, and so are the rest of you," said The Rat.
"Squad! 'Tention! You at the head of the line," to Marco. They were
in line in a moment--straight, shoulders back, chins up. And Marco
stood at the head.

"We're going to take an oath," said The Rat. "It's an oath of
allegiance.