ONE BY ONE, QUITE BREATHLESS WITH EXCITEMENT, THEY CLIMBED TO THE TOWER ROOM
All the Ravens agreed with Gyp that their secret society must pledge itself to protect and serve the spirit of Lincoln; then, having disposed of that they fell, eagerly, to discussing plans for "spreads."
"Let's take turns bringing eats."
"How often shall we meet?"
"Let's meet every Wednesday. Melodia always makes tarts on Tuesday and maybe I can coax her to make some extra ones," offered Patricia Everett.
"And the dancing class is in the gym. then and no one will notice us."
"We ought to have knives and forks and things like a regular club!"
"And a president and a secretary."
"I ought to be president." Gyp's tone was final.
The other Ravens assented amicably. "Of course you ought to be. And Jerry can be secretary because she helped find this spliffy room."
"Girls, at the next meeting let's each bring a knife, fork, spoon, plate and cup."
"Oh, won't it be fun?" A Raven pirouetted on her toes in a most unparliamentary and unbird-like fashion.
"Pat and I'll bring the eats next Wednesday," declared Peggy. "Some one has to start."
"If we've decided everything we have to decide this meeting's adjourned," and without further formal procedure Gyp summarily brought to an end the first meeting of the Ravens. After a merry half-hour they tiptoed down the secret stairway, George Washington went back into his place on the wall and the eight girls scattered, each to her own home, with hearts that were fairly bursting with excitement.
That evening at the dinner table Gyp, very obviously, made a secret sign to Jerry. She brought one hand, with a little downward, spiral movement, to rest upon the other hand, the first two fingers of each interlocked.
"Oh! Oh! That's a secret sign you made," cried Tibby.
"Well, maybe it is," answered Gyp, putting her spoon in her soup with assumed indifference.
"Some silly girls' society, I'll bet," put in Graham with a tormenting grin.
Gyp had passed beyond the age when Graham's teasing could disturb her. She smiled to show how little she minded his words.
"You'll know, my dear brother, sometime, whether we're silly or not," she answered with beautiful dignity. "We're not a society that's organized just for fun!" Which was, of course, a slap at the Sphinxes. Isobel roused suddenly to an active interest in the discussion.
"You're just copy-cats," she declared, with a withering scorn that brought Graham to Gyp's defence.
No wonder Jerry never found a moment in the Westley home dull!
"You needn't think," he shot across the table at Isobel, "that 'cause you have waves in your hair you're the whole ocean!"
"Funny little boy," Isobel retorted, trying hard to hold back her anger. "Mother, I should think you'd make Graham stop using his horrid slang!"
"That's not slang—that's idiotmatic English," added Graham, smiling mischievously at his mother. He chuckled. "You should have heard Don Blacke in geom. class to-day. He got up and said: 'Two triangles are equal if two sides and the included angle of one are equal respectfully to two sides,' and when we all laughed he got sore as a cat!"