“We’ll give him a tree to hold before Harry Worden comes to take his picture,” said Ward, eagerly.
But Fred felt little interest in the snowman. He could think of nothing but the missing bank.
“I’ll resign as treasurer,” he said to Polly, on their way to school.
The sun was out and the snow had stopped. A white world, brilliant and beautiful, was spread before their eyes.
“I’ll resign,” said Fred. “I’m not fit to be treasurer and take care of other people’s money. I’m too careless. And I’ll save every cent of my allowance and pay all the money back to the club.”
“Don’t be silly, Fred,” Polly told him loyally. “We don’t want you to resign. No one will be as good a treasurer as you are.”
“I’m no good at all,” said Fred, bitterly.
“Yes, you are, too!” flashed Polly. “You’re fine. It isn’t exactly your fault that the bank is lost. Every one is likely to lose things. You don’t have to have to make the money up, either. If one of us had lost it, you wouldn’t make him pay the money back. Besides, Mother says she is sure the bank will be found.”
“Did she say that?” asked Fred, hopefully. “Daddy thought so, too. I wish it would be found, but I feel it is gone for good. And the worst of it is, I can’t remember putting it down anywhere.”
“What do you suppose Carrie Pepper will say when she sees me wearing my pin?” said Polly, hoping to take Fred’s mind off his troubles.