“I can write a letter,” said Polly, “and we’ll all sign it.”
And a day or two later a “round robin” letter went to Rye, signed by each member of the Riddle Club, a letter that left no doubt in Mr. Kirby’s mind as to the pleasure his pins had given the lucky boys and girls who received them.
“Now,” said Polly, when the pins were fastened in a conspicuous place on each blouse or coat, “we can have our riddles.”
“I’ve got a riddle for Fred,” announced Ward: “How much money does the moon represent?”
“Huh, that’s easy,” retorted Fred, confidently. “Quarters, of course.”
“That isn’t how much,” said Ward.
“Well, give me time to think and I’ll tell you,” answered Fred. “The moon has four quarters—and four quarters—four quarters make a dollar. Ah-ha, Mr. Larue, the moon represents a dollar.”
Ward was divided between admiration for Fred’s mathematical abilities and chagrin that he had solved the riddle. The former won.
“You did get it,” he said generously. “You certainly are good at guessing riddles, Fred.”
Fred was determined to show that he could be generous, too.