"Not yet, goosie!" Elf replied, "and I know," she continued, "'cause I remember hearing our cook say that the stew was ready when the oysters looked all puckered around their edges."
"O gracious! If that's true, somebody'll have to come and hold this old can a while. My arm is about broken!"
Betty seized the can, and mounted the stool, and Vera, thus relieved, ran to the closet, returning with the cream-cakes and the fudge.
The white counterpane stripped from the bed, and spread upon the floor, served as a lunch-cloth, and when the "goodies" were set upon it, the big can in the center, steaming, if not boiling, the four sat cross-legged around the feast, and prepared to enjoy it.
Salt and pepper in abundance had been thrown into the can, so that while it lacked sufficient cooking, it surely did not lack seasoning.
Bravely each tried to eat her share, but so salt was it, that it almost brought the tears.
The cream-cakes were fine, and the girls were laughing softly over Betty's remark that no one knew of their little "party," when a knock upon the door caused Valerie to drop her cream-cake. In an instant she had rolled over, crawled under the bed, Betty following, while Vera and Elf sprang into bed, drawing the coverings to their chins to hide that they were fully dressed. It was one of Miss Fenler's rules that pupils should never lock their doors.
Now in a harsh voice she called: "Open this door at once!"
Vera sprang to the floor, shut off the gas, softly turned the key in the lock, and was back in bed and covered up to her eyes, in a second.
Upon opening the door, Miss Fenler stumbled into the blanket that hung from the door-frame. Crossing the room to light the gas, she put her right foot directly upon a cream-cake, while with her left she upset the can of stew.