Nan thought Linda Riggs and Cora Courtney had been lingering about the boathouse, listening and peeping; but she did not suspect these girls, disagreeable and objectionable as they were, would be mean enough to tell any teacher about the proposed banquet.
“I suppose they are only wondering if we are to have a finer spread than they will have at their banquet,” Nan said to Bess.
“I just hate their snooping around so,” grumbled Bess.
Soon after supper Walter telephoned to his sister from their own house that all was well. He had delivered the goods at the boathouse and, with the help of the Masons’ gardener, had carried everything into the unused part of the building, as agreed. The key had been left in a secret corner known only to himself and Nan, and—he wished the girls good luck!
Nan and her friends were all excitement that evening. Not much preparation was made for the following day’s tasks. Had Mrs. Cupp not been very busy about her own affairs, she would surely have noticed that some of her charges were in a great flutter.
Miss Sadie Vane, Mrs. Cupp’s sister, had come to see her on this evening, and in great excitement again. As soon as the matron was relieved of her supper duties she put on her wraps and left for the village with Miss Vane.
This relieved the minds of Nan and Bess not a little. They ran down to the boathouse and found the key. But Bess utterly refused to go in without a light, and without the other girls for company.
“Oh, all right,” said Nan. “I guess everything is safe. And all of the girls are so afraid of the place after dark that if they could get in they would not dare.”
The evening dragged by. Curfew rang and still Mrs. Cupp did not return. Heavy-footed Susan went up through the corridors and looked to the lowering of the lights. Then she returned and the older girls were left to themselves—supposedly for the night.
“When the cat’s away the mice can play.” It was then figures stole out of certain rooms, and along the corridors, and down the stairs. A rear door had been unchained. One by one the softly flitting figures gathered in the back garden.