“Great idea!” assented Babe. “I love footless stories. Bob always reads me the ones she writes.”
“Does Bob write stories?” cried Katherine. “I say, Bob——”
“You wretch,” cried Bob, falling upon her accuser with the violence born of much basket-ball practice. “Footless stories indeed! You’ll never hear another.”
In the heat of the fray it was some time before “The Merry Hearts” discovered that a double battle was going on in their midst. While Bob pummeled Babe, Roberta was frantically trying to wrench Georgia’s story from Madeline’s firm grasp.
“What in the world are you doing, Roberta?” demanded Mary. “You can read it to us, if you’d rather. I know Madeline’s voice is bad.”
“I think it’s a shame,” cried Roberta hotly, blushing and making strange gestures in Madeline’s direction.
“What’s a shame?” asked Betty in perplexity.
“Why—why—reading my—reading Georgia’s story aloud and—laughing at it.” Roberta looked ready to cry.
“I think so too,” declared Betty, uncomprehending but sympathetic. “How she would feel if she knew! Truly, Mary, I don’t wonder that people don’t contribute to the ‘Argus,’ if you editors show their themes around like this.”