the Crick!" said timorous Freddie Stevens. "Besides," he added, after a pause, "it does n't seem so much like stealin', when you come and take things with a ship!"
Freddie's conscience was troubling him because of a pound-cake which certain rats had made away with, from the second shelf in Mrs. Stevens's pantry.
"I think you 're making an uncommon pig of yourself over those peaches, Redney!" interposed the Preacher's son.
"You don't have to pay out good money for caves!" said Pinkie, sadly.
"It 's too muddy and dark in here all the time, anyway!" added Biff Perkins.
"You were n't all talkin' that way about three weeks ago!" said the Captain, as he strode back and forth, with one shoulder hunched up, and his arm over his chest.
And so they squabbled on until a vote was taken on the question, and even Pinkie swung round with the majority, and it was unanimously decided that the Maggie Watson should become the property of the gang. But from that day on, mind you, she was to be spoken of and known as the Greyhound,
