“Wheels in mine, too!” Kent drawled lazily.

“Wheels!”

Jot sprang to his feet in excitement.  In his haste he miscalculated the dimensions of the consultery.  There was a wild flutter of brown hands and feet, and then the chestnut leaves closed calmly over the opening, and there were but two boys in the consultery.  One of those parted the leaves again and peered down.

“Hello, Jot!”

No answer.  Old Tilly’s laugh froze on his face.

“Jot!  Hello!” he cried, preparing to swing himself down.

“Hello yourself!” came up calmly.

“Oh!  Are you killed?”

“‘Course!  But, I say, you needn’t either o’ you sit up there any longer gloomin’.  I’ve thought of the way we’ll celebrate.  It’s great!”

The crisp branches creaked as the others swung down to the ground in haste.

“You haven’t!” cried Kent.

“What is it, quick!” Old Tilly said.  Old Tilly in a hurry!

“Wheels!” announced Jot, deliberately.  “You chaps had ’em in your head, and that put ’em into mine.  Yes, sir, we’ll celebrate on wheels!”

“Why, of course!  Good for you!” shouted Kent.  But Old Tilly weighed things first in his mind.

“That would be a go if we had enough to ‘go’ round.  But you twinnies wouid have to ride double, or spell each other, or something.”

“Spell nobody!” scornfully cried Jot.

“N-o, no, b-o-d—­”

“Shut up, Kent!  That’s all right, Old Till.  Benny Tweed’ll lend me his bike just like a book—­I know Ben!  Besides, he owes me a dollar and I’ll call it square.  There!”

Old Tilly nodded approvingly.  “Good!” he said.  “Then we’ll take a trip off somewhere.  That what you meant?”

“Sure!  We’ll go Columbus-ing—­discovering things, you know.”

“Like those fellows—­what’s their names?—­who did errands for people, and had wonderful things happen to them while doing them!” put in Kent, enthusiastically.

“Errands?  What in the world—­knights?  He means knight-errants!” exclaimed Old Till, laughing.

“That’s a good one—­’Did errands for folks!’” Jot mocked.

“Well, what did they do then, Jotham Eddy?”

“Why, they—­er—­they—­they rode round on splendid horses, all armed—­ er—­aaple-pie—­and—­”

“Apple-pie—­armed with apple-pie!”

Old Tilly came briskly to the rescue.

“Never mind the errands or the pie!” laughed he.  “We’ll be reg’lar knights and hunt up distressed folks to relieve, and have reg’lar adventures.  It will be great—­good for Jot!  We won’t decide where we’re going or anything—­just keep a-going.  We’ll start to-morrow morning at sunrise.”

“Hoo-ray for to-morrow morning!”

“Hoo-ray for sunrise!”

“Hoo-ray for Jot!” finished Kent, generously forgetting mockeries.

The plan promised gloriously.  When father and mother came home from the mill they fell in with it heartily, and mother rolled up her sleeves at once to make cakes to fill the boys’ bundle racks.  They would buy other things as they went along—­that would be part of the fun.