It is no wonder, then, that the soul of Sid Waters, to say nothing of his
stomach in view of the halibut, was powerfully affected, and again he
cried out, "Jolly!" Then he clapped his hands, shouting, "Just the place
for a club!"

"A club" said Juggie Jones. "Got nuff dose on my wood-pile."

"He means an or-gorgan-gangor--" Charlie spoke very hesitatingly. It was
a long word and threatened to catch crosswise in his windpipe and choke
him.

"Organization?" inquired Sid. "O I will show you. We had plenty of 'em in
Boston."

As Sid had just moved from the city, and especially a city so full of
knowledge as Boston, Charlie and Juggie received this piece of news with
all possible respect.

"We can make one right here," suggested Charlie.

"Yes, straight off," said the late citizen of Boston.

"But whar's de boys?" asked Juggie.

"O three will do," said Sid Waters, "for you don't want many to start
with. I know the club will be popular after she has been started. And
then, fellers," he said, in a quiet tone, "there's a better chance for
offices in a small club, you know. We can fill 'em all now and get good
berths."