"Nowhere," retorted Monica, "they aren't hidden, at all." Pulling her arm away she walked off, singing softly: "Beautiful Mabel, would if I could, but I am not able," and leaving Nat to stare after her and rub her nose in greater perplexity than ever.
During the whole of that October week it rained continuously—as it not unfrequently does in October—and the girls were obliged to remain indoors most of the time. In addition to this, Miss Cazalet, the games and drill mistress, was confined to her room with an attack of influenza. So the members of the staff were not surprised at there being no hockey practices and were not aware of the mysterious disappearance of the hockey sticks; while the girls, both because they preferred to tackle their own problems and also because they did not like to be made to look ridiculous, did not carry any complaints to them about it.
They knew now that it was the work of the netball players, or some of them, for the morning following the search, Madge had found in her study a dirty, begrimed sheet of paper, with the following message inscribed on it in straggling, printed characters:
IF THE NETBALL KAPTANE WILL PROMISS TO PLAY FOR HER TEEM IN THE NEXT MACHE THE MISSING ARTIKLES WILL BE FOUND.
SINED—ONE WHO NOES.
P.S. SHE MUST RITE HER NAME IN THE TEEM ON THE NOTISS-BORD.
The Fifth and Sixth surveyed this illiterate epistle with disgust.
"It's positively childish, writing such nonsense to us," declared Madge. "Anyone would think we were kids in the Second Form, whose favourite recreation was playing at Red Indians. I am convinced this is the work of that harum-scarum young sister of yours, Pam."
Pam herself, who in her time had been one of the biggest pickles in the school and who even now, when she had attained the dignity of the Sixth, regarded life more or less as a joke, chuckled delightedly.
"Shouldn't be surprised. She's just like I was when I was her age. Mischievous lot of young imps!"