refuse my father anything he asks. My father is a banker and everybody
does everything he wants them to, because he lends them money,"
advised Walter wisely.

"My--my uncle doesn't have to borrow money. He's got money of his
own," bristled Chunky.

"Yes, that's so. But you go ask him. Tell him about my pony and that
we are all going off for a ride every day. Say that Professor Zepplin
will be along to take care of us. And say! I'll tell you what," added
the boy eagerly.

"Yes?" urged Chunky.

"We will form ourselves into a club. Now, wouldn't that be great?"

"Fine!" glowed Chunky. "But, what kind of a club? They don't have
horses in clubs."

"We shall, in this one. That is, we shall be the club, and the ponies
will be our club-house. When we are on our ponies' backs we shall be
in our club-house. Maybe we can get Ned Rector to join us. He knows
how to ride--why, he rides almost as well as Tad."

Chunky nodded thoughtfully.

"What shall we call it? We must have some kind of a name for the
club."

"I hadn't thought of that. I'll tell you what," exclaimed Walter,