It was eminently successful, and the viands disappeared as if by magic. The empty bottles were set aside so their accidental fall would not make too much noise.
Gradually jaws began to move more slowly up and down in the process of mastication, and tongues began to wag more freely, though in guarded tones.
“This sure is one great, little Christmas feed!” commented Jack.
“All to the horse-radish,” agreed Tom. “But it’s nothing to what we’ll have when we get up in the Adirondack camp, fellows. I wish you were all coming.”
“So do we!” chorused those who were not going, for various reasons.
“Hark! What’s that?” suddenly cried George. Instantly there was silence.
“Nothing but the wind,” said Tom. “Say, fellows,” he went on, “I have an idea.”
“Chain it!” advised Jack. “They’re rare birds these days.”
“Let’s hear what it is,” suggested Bert. “If it’s any good, we’ll do it.”