Of course, with the Fourth of July two days away and no fireworks on hand, the Riddle Club had something to think about. Urged by Fred and by Polly, who, as the oldest, had considerable influence, they were careful not to accuse Joe Anderson of purposely setting fire to the package in Ward's arms.
"You can't go around saying he did it," Fred declared, "for there is no way to prove it. Anyway, we can show the Conundrum Club that we don't bicker. We'll have some fireworks, anyway, because we each have a dollar to spend."
On hearing the tragic news, the three mothers had generously provided a dollar for each club member, and this, on the advice of Polly, was to be most wisely expended "fifty-fifty" for firecrackers by day and Roman candles and other glittering delights by night.
"We ought to get a lot of stuff," said Fred cheerfully, as they set off for the shop the next morning. "I'm glad now that Ward went early; if he had waited till the last minute and then the things blew up, everything might have been sold out."
Six dollars will, as you doubtless know, buy a quantity of firecrackers, punk and fireworks, even for six children with varying demands and tastes. Mr. Harrison, whose small store was crammed with Fourth of July supplies, wrapped everything up in one large package and the three boys agreed to take turns carrying it.
"Let's go down by the wharf," suggested Polly, as they left the shop.
Mr. Larue was the head of the steamboat line, and the wharf on which his office was built was of course familiar ground to the Riddle Club. Nearly all the express and freight business in River Bend was done by the boats, as the nearest railroad was some miles away.
"You're just the folks I wanted to see," said Mr. Larue, who was busy on the wharf as the boys and girls came in sight. "There is a package here addressed to the Riddle Club. I thought you might know something about it and where it ought to go."
"A package!" said six voices in chorus. "Who sent it?"