To see the hilarious Reddy mulping was very odd. About the only subject in or out of books that seemed to interest him in the slightest degree was the mention of the name of his twin brother, Heady; and that, too, in spite of the fact that the two of them had quarreled and bickered so much that their despairing parents had finally sent them to different schools. But now Reddy seemed to be inconsolable, grieving for the other half of his twin heart.

Finally the boy's blues grew so blue that no one was much surprised when he announced his desperate determination to journey to the town where Heady was at school, and visit him. Reddy got permission from the Principal to leave on Friday night and return on Monday. He had been saving up his spending-money for many a dismal week, and now he went about borrowing the spending-money of all his friends.

One Friday evening, then, after class hours, all the Lakerimmers went in a body down to the railroad-station to bid Reddy a short good-by.

Jumbo felt inclined to crack a few jokes upon Reddy's inconsistency in struggling so hard to get away from his brother, and then struggling so hard to go back to him, but Tug told Jumbo that the subject was too tender for any of his flippancy.

On reaching the depot they found that Reddy's train was half an hour late, and that a train from the opposite direction would get in first. So they all stood solemnly around and waited. When this train pulled into the station you can imagine the feelings of all when the first one to descend was—

Was—

Heady!

The Twins stood and stared at each other like tailors' dummies for a moment, while the strangers on the platform and on the train wondered if they were seeing double.

Then Reddy and Heady dropped each his valise, and made a spring. And each landed on the other's neck.

Now Sawed-Off seized Heady's valise, and Jumbo seized Reddy's, and then they all set off together—the reunited Twins, the completed Dozen—for the campus. The whole Twelve felt a new delight in the reunion, and realized for the first time how dear the Dozen was.

The Twins, of course, were blissfulest of all, and marched at the head of the column with their arms about each other, exchanging news and olds, both talking at once, and each understanding perfectly what the other was trying to say.

Thus they proceeded, glowing with mutual affection, till they reached the edge of the campus, when the others saw the Twins suddenly loose their hold on each other, and fall to, hammer and tongs, over some quarrel whose beginning the rest had not heard.

Jumbo grinned and murmured to Sawed-Off: "The Twins are themselves again."

But Sawed-Off hastened to separate and pacify them, and they set off again for Reddy's room, arm in arm. Later Heady arranged with his parents to let him stay at Kingston for the rest of the school-year.

* * * * *

Heady had not been back among his old cronies long before they had him up in a corner in Reddy's room, and were all trying at the same time to tell him of the atrocious behavior of the Crows, their harsh treatment of Tug and History, the magnificent resistance, and the glorious rescue.

"It reminds me," said History, "of one of Sir William Scott's novels, with moats and castles, and swords and shields, and all sorts of beautiful things."

But B.J. broke in scornfully:

"Aw, that old Scott, he's a deader! It reminds me of one of those new detective stories with clues and hair-breadth escapes. And Tug is like 'Iron-armed Ike,' who took four villyuns, two in each hand, and swung them around his head till they got so dizzy that they swounded away, and then he threw one of 'em through a winder, and used the other three like baseball bats to knock down a gang of desperate ruffians that was comin' to the rescue. Oh, but I tell you, it was great!"

"'Strikes me," Bobbles interrupted, "it's more like one of Funnimore Hooper's Indian stories, with the captives tied to the stake and bein' tortured and scalluped, and all sorts of horrible things, when along comes old Leather-boots and picks 'em all off with his trusty rifle."

Two or three others were evidently reminded of something else they were anxious to describe; but Heady was growing impatient and very wrathful, and he broke in:

"Well, while you fellows are all being reminded of so many things, I'd like to ask just one thing, and that is, what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing at all," said History. And thinking of his unexpected escape from his terrible adventure, he added quickly: "I think we did mighty well to get out of it alive."

"Pooh!" sniffed Heady, getting madder every moment.

"Well, Tug says the same thing," drawled Sleepy. "He says that we got the best of it all around, and that if anybody's after revenge it ought to be the Crows, because we wiped 'em off the earth."

"Bah!" snapped Heady. "It isn't enough for the Lakerim Athletic Club to get out of a thing even, and call quits. Leastways, that wasn't the pollersy when I used to be with you."

This spirit of revolt from the calm advice of Tug seemed to be catching, and the other Lakerimmers were becoming much excited. Tug made a speech, trying to calm the growing rage, and he was supported by History, who tried to bring up some historical parallels, but was ordered off the floor by the others. Tug's plan, which was seconded by History from motives of timidity, was thirded by Sleepy from motives of laziness.

But Heady leaped to his foot and delivered a wild plea for war, such another harangue as he had delivered during the famous snow-battle at the Hawk's Nest. He favored a sharp and speedy retaliation.

"Well, how are you going to retaliate?" said Tug, who saw his let-her-go policy losing all its force, and who began to grow just a bit eager himself to give the Crows a good lesson. Still, he repeated, when Heady only looked puzzled and gave no answer:

"How are you going to retaliate, I say?"

"A chance will come," said Heady, solemnly.

And Reddy, who had been burning up with patriotic zeal for the glory of Lakerim, was so proud of his brother's success in stirring up a warlike spirit that he moved over, and sat down beside him on the window-seat, and put his arms around him, and they never quarreled again—till after supper.

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