"Because I haven’t a secretary yet," Reddy explained.
"Why should you have a secretary?" Mr. Crow asked him.
"Why shouldn’t I?" Reddy retorted. "I guess, Mr. Crow, you don’t know much about clubs. I guess you don’t know that the president of a club always has a secretary."
"Are you president of the Redcaps?" Mr. Crow cried breathlessly.
"Well—yes, I am!" Reddy admitted. "I didn’t mean to tell you that to-day. But I can’t deny it."
Mr. Crow was off like a shot. You’d have thought he had just spied Farmer Green with a gun in his hands. His _caw, caw, caw_ told everybody in Pleasant Valley that he was going somewhere on important business.
Reddy Woodpecker pulled a fat grub from its hiding place in the old apple tree. He could still hear Mr. Crow squawking when the old gentleman was half a mile away. And Reddy smiled as he swallowed the grub.
"That’s better than putting the news in a newspaper," he said with a chuckle.
Reddy Woodpecker knew that Mr. Crow would come back to the orchard to ask him another question. The old gentleman simply had to learn more about Reddy’s club.
"I’d like to knew—" said Mr. Crow—"I’d like to know why you are the president of The Redcaps."
"That’s easily answered," Reddy replied. "It’s because I wear the biggest and reddest cap of all the birds in the neighborhood."
Mr. Crow puzzled over the matter for a time.
"I don’t understand what difference your cap makes," he said at last. "I’ve been thinking about joining the club. And _I_ have no red cap."
"That’s true, Mr. Crow," Reddy agreed. "And that’s the reason why you can’t join my club. Nobody that doesn’t wear a red cap can be a member of The Redcaps."
"Humph!" cried the old gentleman. "I’ve been thinking about joining the club. But I’ve decided not to do it."
Reddy Woodpecker smiled at him. And for some reason Mr. Crow became angry.
"How many members has your club?" he squawked.
"Ha!" the old fellow exclaimed. "You can’t have a club with only one member."
"I expect that several of the neighbors will join The Redcaps to-morrow," said Reddy Woodpecker. "They ’re only waiting for an invitation."
"Let me see," Mr. Crow murmured. "There’s your cousin Mr. Flicker. He wears a red patch on the back of his head. But you can’t call it a cap."