"It's a secret, but you'll like 'em. I made 'em out of the cook book."
Pinkey threw his coat on the table and the thud sounded as if it had a brick rolled in it.
"Here's something Helene sent—she made it—it's angel food or somethin', I reckon."
"Now wasn't that good of her!" Wallie exclaimed, gratefully.
"I can't tell till I taste it. I wouldn't call her much of a cook generally." He prodded the cake as he unrolled it and commented:
"Gosh, it's hard! I turned my thumb-nail back on it."
"It's frozen—that's what's the matter," Wallie defended, promptly.
"I think it's a bum cake," declared Pinkey, callously.
"I think you don't know what you're talking about until you try it," Wallie retorted with asperity.
Pinkey looked at him thoughtfully and changed the subject.