“No,” admitted Mrs. Larry reluctantly, “we didn’t see it in operation. But the idea is wonderful, if you could just get the right person to put it in operation.”
“If you found her, one of the bachelor stockholders would promptly marry her, and that would settle it. And so from the kitchen you went to the school for housemaids?”
“No, Larry, we did not. Teresa telephoned one of the ladies interested in the school, and she was getting ready to go to a tea, but said if we would telephone Mrs. Somebody else, she would be delighted—”
“If she didn’t happen to have a tea on hand also.”
“So then we all suddenly decided that we wanted to come home. Teresa remembered an appointment with her tailor—you know they are going to take the Panama trip, don’t you? And Mrs. Norton wanted to fill in her dinner set at a china sale, and I—well, Larry, I had the funniest sinking sensation when I happened to remember that I’d been away from the children almost five hours. And we ran like mad to catch the next train?”
“A fine, dignified quartet of investigators, you are! Now, what did you learn as the reward of your trip? Just tell me that!”
“I learned that I’d rather have a real steak from my own broiler than a thermos stove on my back step.”
“Good little wife! And as a reward for that sensible answer, you shall read this letter, which may or may not confirm your findings.”
Mr. Larry drew a bulky envelope from his pocket, slit it open and tossed the contents in Mrs. Larry’s lap.
“You see, my dear, I have an old friend living in Carthage, Missouri, where once a very successful cooperative kitchen flourished. He and his wife were stockholders but dropped out. I asked him to tell me why, and here is the letter in reply.”