CHAPTER XVIII
A FINE GAME
One Saturday morning, the Maynards and the Bryants sat on the veranda of "Maynard Manor," and every one of them was gazing at the sky.
"It will,—I know it will," said Mrs. Maynard, hopelessly.
"It won't,—I know it won't!" exclaimed Marjorie, smiling at her mother.
"It's bound to," declared Cousin Jack, "and there's no use thinking it won't!"
Of course, they were talking about the rain, which hadn't yet begun to fall, but which, judging from the ominous gray sky and black clouds, would soon do so.
"Yep, there are the first drops now!" cried King, as some black spots suddenly appeared on the veranda steps.