"I don't believe any fellow, after that big supper, feels as if he had energy enough to tell a spanking story.

But what kind of stories shall we tell ?" "I'll wait for some one else to start it," yawned Tom, as he took his seat in the semi-circle at a respectful distance from the blaze.
"Who else is going to be a quitter or a loafer ?" inquired Dave scornfully.
There was a pause.

No one appeared to have a story that he wanted to try out on such a critical audience.
At last Dick remarked thoughtfully: "As the man on the clubhouse steps said----" Then he paused, as if he had forgotten the matter.
"Well," insisted Greg presently, "what did the man on the clubhouse steps say ?" "Eh ?" inquired Dick, gazing at him with mock blankness.
"What did the man on the clubhouse steps say ?" repeated Greg.
"Oh--er--that is--it's really a secret," Dick replied provokingly.
"Now, see here, none of that!" growled Tom.
"Eh ?" demanded Dan, awaking from a light doze, with a start and a subdued snore.
"Dick Prescott, you tell us what the man on the clubhouse steps said!" ordered Tom.
"But I've just told you that it's a secret." "None of that, now!" "But I can't tell secrets!" pleaded Dick.
"It isn't a secret at all.

It's a good story, and you've got to let it come out.

We need a good one to get us started." All now joined in the demand, but Dick shook his head protestingly.
"Honestly, fellows, it wouldn't be right for me to tell secrets," he insisted.
The inner bar that locked the door by night had been dropped into place ere the boys sat down to supper.