“Daddy says that we can’t have any kind of a heater in the barn,” said Jess, mournfully. “He says the most careful children in the world could burn a barn down without knowing they were doing it.”
“Well, the only thing I see to do, then,” said Polly, “is to wrap up extra warm. We can’t freeze solid in an hour or two.”
“No, but I have a little cold now,” objected Margy, “and I don’t believe Mother will want me to stay in that cold barn. You can’t be too careful when you have a little cold.”
“You say you have a cold,” declared Fred, with brotherly frankness, “because you want an excuse for borrowing one of Mother’s good handkerchiefs and putting her new cologne on it.”
Margy looked at him reproachfully, but forebore to argue.
All through the morning session Polly studied the problem of a meeting place. That is, when she was not reciting. She racked her mind to think of somewhere they could go, but without success. As Carrie Pepper had shrewdly said, she was not willing to “meet around” at the houses of the various members. For one thing, Polly knew that this plan usually meant extra work and trouble for the mothers.
“We might not always put everything back in place,” reasoned Polly. “And the boys are so hard on chairs and furniture. They don’t mean to be, but they can’t help it. With our own furniture, it doesn’t matter, but just suppose Artie should put his feet on those new satin chairs Mrs. Larue just had sent home! And if we had anything to eat, I’d want to run the carpet sweeper over the rug afterward, because I just know there would be crumbs spilled.”
Then she was called on to go to the blackboard, and it was twenty minutes before she had a chance to tackle the problem again.
“Oh, dear, it is really trying to snow,” said Polly to herself, glancing from the window as she walked back to her seat. “I hoped maybe the sun would come out and make it warmer. I don’t see what we’re going to do with all our lovely things, if we can’t meet in the barn any longer.”
Polly meant the treasures the Riddle Club had gathered from various sources, some by dint of wheedling from parents who had furniture stored in attics, some from friends made in camp, and some—best of all—won as trophies.