"I say so, too," agreed King. "If we write to the ones that need writing to, we'll have all we can do. Make out a list of 'em, Dick."
"Put down Mr. Bolton first," said Gladys. "He hasn't mowed his grass all summer. Father says his place is a disgrace to the comminity."
"Community, child," corrected her brother. "But old Bolton's place is awful. So is Crane's."
"Let's write their letters now, and see how they sound," suggested King, who was always in favor of quick action.
The club was meeting in the Maynards' big playroom, so paper and pencils were handy.
"It ought to be in ink, I s'pose," said King, "but I hardly ever use it, it spills about so. Let's take pencil this time."
After many suggestions and corrections on the part of each of the interested members the following letter was achieved:
"Mr. Bolton,
"Dear Sir: We wish kindly to ask you to keep your place in better order. We are trying to improve our fair city, and how can we do it when places like yours are a disgrace to the community? We trust you will be nice about this, and not get mad, for we mean well, and hope you are enjoying the same blessing."
"That's all right," said Marjorie, as Dick read it aloud. "Now, what do we sign it?"