"We'll do it," Bob said. "You look out. Here Dick, dump them."
"You'll ruin your clothes," Polly protested. "Wait and I'll get some one from the house."
"Never!" Dick declared, "wait even an instant while this precious stuff melts; I should say not."
"All right, you unpack it; be careful of the tins, the covers fall off sometimes, and the salt gets in the ice cream," she warned. "I'll go find Betty."
She found her on the Senior porch. She was just coming out with one of the maids.
"We've found it!" Polly called to her.
"Jemima! where?" Betty demanded.
"At the gym. The driver must have just dumped it down at the first door he came to. The boys are unpacking it."
Fifteen minutes later the sherbet, a little melted and, perhaps a trifle salty, was served in glass cups and no one but the agonized Seniors and Dick and Bob knew of the narrow escape.
The rescuing party joined Lois and Jim over in one corner of the room.