But the chance came—­sooner than any of them expected.

IX

For Quiz, whose curiosity threatened to be the death of him some day, and who was always snooping around, learned, not many days later, that the Crows were planning to give a great banquet in a room over the only restaurant in the village.  This feast had been intended as a grand finale to the season of hazing, and it was to be paid for by the poor wretches who had been given the pleasure of being hazed, and taxed a dollar apiece for the privilege.  Strange to say, the two Lakerim men whom the Crows had tried to haze were neither invited to pay the tax nor to be present at the banquet.  In fact, the unkind behavior of the Lakerimmers had hurt the feelings of the Crows very badly, and cast a gloom over the whole idea of the banquet.

As soon as Quiz learned, in a roundabout way, where and when the feast was to be held, he came rushing into Tug’s room, where the Dozen had gathered Saturday evening after a long day spent in skating on the first heavy ice of the winter.

Quiz crashed through the door, and smashed it shut behind him, and yelled:  “I’ve got it!  I’ve got it!” with such zeal that Sleepy, who was taking a little doze in a tilted chair, went over backward into a corner, and had to be pulled out by the heels.

History spoke up, as usual, with one of his eternal school-book memories, and piped out: 

“You remind me, Quiz, of the day when Archimeter jumped out of his bath-tub and ran around yelling, ’Euraker!  Euraker!”

But Heady shouted: 

“Somebody stuff a sofa-cushion down History’s mouth until we learn what it is that Quiz has got.”

“Or what it is that’s got Quiz,” added Jumbo.

When History had been upset, and Sleepy set up, Quiz, who had run several blocks with his news, found breath to gasp: 

“The Crows are going to have a banquet!”

Then he flopped over on the couch and proceeded to pant like a steam-roller.

The rest of the Dozen stared at Quiz a moment, then passed a look around as if they thought that either Quiz was out of his head or they were.  Then they all exclaimed in chorus: 

“Well, what of it?”

And Jumbo added sarcastically: 

“It’ll be a nice day to-morrow if it doesn’t rain.”

Quiz was a long time getting his breath and opening his eyes; then it was his turn to look around in amazement and to exclaim: 

“What of it?  What of it?  Why, you numskulls, don’t you see it’s just the chance you wanted for revenge?”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed the others.  “Do you mean that we should go down and eat the banquet for ’em?” queried Sleepy, whose first thought was always either for a round sleep or a square meal.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Quiz.  “That would be a good idea, too.  What I had in my mind was doing what they do in the big colleges sometimes:  kidnap the president of the crowd so that he can’t go to the dinner.”