“Another thing,” Peg went on to say, proudly, “every one of these volumes is as clean as new, almost. When you take one home with you it’s nice to know it didn’t come last from a house where they had the measles, or the scarlet fever. You see how myself, and a couple of girls who helped me, covered the whole lot.”
“You deserve a bunch of thanks from the boys of the Y. M. C. A., Peg,” said Clint.
“And we will see that he gets it, too,” asserted Dick.
Others coming in just then, the conversation became more general, Peg being constrained to explain his system for keeping track of every book taken out by any member of the Boys’ Club.
“And say,” he told them impressively, “just look over these iron-bound rules we have written here on this wall chart. You’ll see there is no fee asked for taking out a book, but if it’s held over three days there’s a penalty of a cent a day to pay. Also, if any book comes back in a bad condition the one who’s responsible will have to make good.”
“That’s only fair,” remarked Leslie Capes. “Those of us who have given over some of our private books to boost the new Boys’ Library along want to feel that our interest is going to be protected.”
A little while later it chanced that Peg, Dick and Leslie were sitting together, for no books could be taken out until the next meeting night, as the arrangements had not as yet been quite completed.
“I wanted to see you on the sly, Dick, for a minute or two,” remarked Peg, laying a hand affectionately on the sleeve of the other.
“Does that mean for me to skip out?” asked Leslie, quickly.
“Oh! don’t bother about that,” Peg remarked, easily. “It isn’t anything so very secret, and you can hear as well as Dick. You see it’s about that prize Mr. Holwell has offered.”