The medals were worn next the skin, and it was while bathing one day at Grave Point, with Jack Harris and Fred Langdon, that I had my curiosity roused to the highest pitch by a sight of these singular emblems.

As soon as I ascertained the existence of a boys' club, of course I was ready to die to join it.

And eventually I was allowed to join.
The initiation ceremony took place in Fred Langdon's barn, where I was submitted to a series of trials not calculated to soothe the nerves of a timorous boy.

Before being led to the Grotto of Enchantment--such was the modest title given to the loft over my friend's wood-house--my hands were securely pinioned, and my eyes covered with a thick silk handkerchief.
At the head of the stairs I was told in an unrecognizable, husky voice, that it was not yet too late to retreat if I felt myself physically too weak to undergo the necessary tortures.

I replied that I was not too weak, in a tone which I intended to be resolute, but which, in spite of me, seemed to come from the pit of my stomach.
"It is well!" said the husky voice.
I did not feel so sure about that; but, having made up my mind to be a Centipede, a Centipede I was bound to be.