"Fine!" cried Tom, as he smacked his lips over the feast. "Max, you have my full permission to have a birthday once a week."
"Yes, and when you miss a week let Spud take your place," added Sam.
"One thing I can't understand, Spud," said Dick, with great seriousness, and everybody present stopped eating to hear what the eldest Rover might have to say.
"What can't you understand?" asked Spud innocently.
"How you could get up a feast like this and forget to supply such an important thing."
"What important thing?" demanded Spud, and he suddenly looked a trifle worried.
"Potatoes," returned Dick.
For an instant there was silence, and then, as the other boys remembered Will's love of potatoes—a love that had given him the nickname of "Spud," there was a wild burst of laughter.
"Say, Spud, that's one on you!"
"Too bad we didn't bring a few praties along, son!"
"We might have fried a few over the light, eh?"
"Don't you worry, dis feast ain't done yet al'retty!" cried Max. "Here is something more!"
