Steve shook his head.  “No one, but I guess we can think of a fellow.  There’s—­”

Steve was interrupted by a knock on the door, and when Hanford, who was nearest, had, at a nod from Steve, unlocked the portal a tall, rather serious-faced youth of seventeen entered.

“Oh, am I butting-in?” he asked.  “I didn’t know.  I’ll come back later, Joe.”  Philip Street smiled apologetically and started a retreat, but Steve called him back.

“Hold on, Phil!” he cried.  “Come in here.  You’re the very fellow we want.  Close the door and find a seat, will you?”

“By Jove, that’s so!” exclaimed Joe, and the others heartily endorsed him.  Oddly enough, not one would have thought of Phil Street in all probability, but each recognised the fact that he was the ideal fellow to complete the membership.  Steve, Joe aiding and the others attempting to, outlined the plan.  If they had expected signs of enthusiasm from Phil they were doomed to disappointment, for that youth listened silently and attentively until they had ended and then asked simply: 

“When are you planning to get away?”

“As near the first of the month as we can,” replied Steve.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t go, then,” said Phil.  “I’m a delegate to the C.B.  Convention, you see, and that doesn’t end until the sixth.”

“I’d forgotten that,” said Joe disappointedly.

“What’s C.B. stand for?” inquired Hanford.

“Christian Brotherhood,” supplied Steve.  “Look here, Phil, could you go after the sixth?”

“Yes, I’d love to, thanks.”

“All right then, you’re signed-on.  If we get away before that we’ll pick you up somewhere.  If we don’t you can start with us.  How is that?”

“Quite satisfactory,” answered Phil.

“But are you sure your folks will let you?” asked Perry.

“Oh, yes, I spend my Summers about as I like.”

“Think of that!” sighed Perry.  “Gee, I wish my folks were like that.”

“I guess,” said Steve, “that Phil’s folks know he won’t get into trouble, Perry, while yours are pretty certain that you will.  It makes a difference.  Now we can go ahead with that election, can’t we?  How about nominations?”

“No need of them,” declared Joe.  “What officers do we want?”

“Well, this is a club—­the Adventure Club, Phil, is the name we’ve chosen—­and so I suppose we ought to have a president and a vice-president and—­”

“Rot!” said Perry.  “Too high-sounding.  Let’s elect a captain and a treasurer and let it go at that.”

“I never heard of a club having a captain,” Oscar Brazier objected.

“Nor anyone else,” agreed Joe.  “Let’s follow the Nihilist scheme and elect a Number One, a Number Two and a Number Three.  Number One can be the boss, a sort of president, you know, Number Two can correspond to a vice-president and Number Three can be secretary and treasurer.  How’s that?”