“It’s snowing!” she cried. “Look—real snow!”
It really was snowing. River Bend had not had the snowstorm which covered Lake Bassing with a white blanket over Thanksgiving Day, and their schoolmates had listened enviously when they heard of the fun the Riddle Club had had in camp. The snow now falling was the first of the winter for the little town.
“Well, I suppose winter has really set in,” sighed Mrs. Marley. “You children will be glad to see the snow, but I don’t care for it as much as I did when I was your age.”
“I hope it will snow all night,” declared Fred. “We haven’t had any coasting in an age.”
But the prospect of coasting to-morrow did not interfere with his enjoyment of a second cup of the chocolate and another cake when Mrs. Marley insisted that he have more.
After the cakes had disappeared, Fred went back to get his bank, and then, as it was too dark—so the mothers said—to go out and play in the snow, which by now covered the pavements and lawns with a thin, white covering, the Larues and the Williamsons went home.
Mr. Williamson was reading before the living-room fire, and Fred went in to tell him about the club meeting and to thank him for the prize riddle offer and the silver dollar he had sent the club fund.
“By the way, Fred,” Mr. Williamson said presently, “wouldn’t you rather open an account in the bank in the name of the Riddle Club? That iron bank of yours must be heavy to carry around, and besides you have too much money in it now to allow yourself to be careless.”
“Oh, I like to take care of it, Daddy,” was Fred’s answer. “Nothing will happen to it; I’m not careless.”
“Fred, I just found your bank on the hall table,” said his mother, coming into the room. “That isn’t the place to leave it.”