After many names had been laughed down, Meredith said, "Why not call ourselves 'The B. B. Club.' Everyone likes a secret society and the mothers can believe we are so fond of the Blue Birds that we wanted to keep their name for ourselves."
"Oh, but they will think we had to steal their name for want of finding one for ourselves," scorned Ned.
"Well, if you can find anything better, tell it!" exclaimed Meredith, vexed at his friend's laughter.
Just then, Jim, the handy man about Oakwood, joined the boys. He saw some signs of trouble and asked what they were doing.
Ned explained about Miss Selina and the Blue Birds, and his plan for the younger boys. Jim pondered for a few moments and then muttered, "Is there any bird you know that goes by those same initials--'B. B.'?"
Ned thought rapidly for a few minutes, then said, "Blue Jay, no, not that--Black Bird!"
"Neither! What bird whistles like this?" and Jim imitated so naturally the notes of the Bobolink that the boys knew.
"Ho! Bobolink, eh?" shouted Ned, slapping Jim on the back.
"Where would the 'B. B.' come in on that?" asked Jinks.
"Would you divide it like 'Bo-Bolink'?" asked Meredith.
"Sure not! Just plain 'Bobolink Boys' to offset the Blue Bird Girls," answered Jim, as he rose to go on toward the barns.
"Hurrah, Jim! I think you're a life-saver," cried Ned.
"Three cheers for the god-father of the Bobolink Boys!" shouted Jinks, while the others cheered Jim.
"There's Don and another little chap--try the name on them and see what they say," suggested Jim, pointing toward the front driveway where two boys of about ten years could be seen.
"That's right. We'll see what they think of it all," returned Meredith, rising to whistle through his fingers to attract the boys' attention.
Immediately upon hearing the shrill call from his brother, Don turned in the direction of the apple orchard. As the two lads ran up, Ned constituted himself chief counsel.
"Don, how old are you?" was the first question.
"How old is your friend?" was the next question.
"I'm ten next month," replied the little fellow.
"Tuck. That is what everyone calls me, but the name they gave me when I was too little to know better, was awful--it's Reuben Wales. Just because my great grandfather had it, they made me take it, too." And poor little Tuck felt very much abused.