Polly tore off the lid—melted snow!
“Some one put it there!” she cried. “But where are my flowers? I had them in the box—I never took them out—I don’t see——”
She called her mother, and together they puzzled over it as they changed the bed clothes, for even the blankets were soaked through from the water.
“Some one has played a trick on you,” said Mrs. Marley, spreading clean sheets. “The paper flowers were light, so they could substitute snow without making a difference in weight. Where did you leave the box?”
“I didn’t leave it——” Polly began.
Then she remembered.
“I put it down on the school steps while I tried to throw a snowball into the tomato can,” she said. “But there was no one in the school yard, except the boys, Mother.”
“Nevertheless, that is when the trick was done,” declared Mrs. Marley. “Some one took out the flowers and the paper and wires and filled the box with snow. It’s a mean thing to do, I’ll admit; but I don’t suppose they thought you’d put the box on the bed. They must have counted on your opening the box as soon as you reached home.”
“But I promised Miss Elliott to bring her the flowers in the morning,” said poor Polly, looking very much as though she might cry. “She wants them to put in the new rope that’s already braided.”
“Don’t cry, Polly,” said her mother. “You’ll have the flowers. I have always said that the best way to pay a practical joker back, is not to let him know his joke has been a success. We’ll get Artie and Jess and Ward and Fred and Margy to come and help, and, working together, we can make and finish two dozen flowers this evening. Then, when you take them to school, don’t say a word about the missing ones. Whoever played the trick will be waiting to hear you complain, and if you act as though nothing had happened they’ll be more surprised than you were when you opened this box.”