Everybody agreed to this, and Madeline gallantly sacrificed a leaf from her philosophy note-book to write the days on.
“Friday,” announced Katherine, drawing out a slip, “and Thursday.”
“Those are all right for me,” said Madeline.
“And for me.”
“Same here.”
“And here.”
“We’d much better have drawn lots in the first place,” said Babbie. “Now if it only doesn’t rain on Thursday and spoil the full moon! Tell the others, won’t you, girls? I’m due at the Science Building this very minute.”
It didn’t rain on Thursday. Indeed the evening was an ideal one for a long gallop, with an open-air supper to follow. This was to be cooked and eaten around a big bonfire that would take the chill off the spring air and keep the mosquitoes at a respectful distance. Most of the Moonshiners belonged to the Golf Club, and they had gotten permission to have their fire in a secluded little grove behind the course. Babbie, who had organized the Moonshiners and was their mistress of ceremonies, held many secret conferences with Madeline Ayres and the two spent a long afternoon sewing behind locked doors, on some dark brown stuff, which Babbie subsequently tied into a big, untidy parcel and carried up to Professor Henderson’s. So the Moonshiners expected a “feature” in addition to the familiar delights of a bacon-roast, and they turned out in such numbers that Bob had to ride a fat little carriage horse and Babbie bravely mounted the spirited mare “Lady,” who had frightened her so on Mountain Day. But there was no storm this time to agitate Lady’s nerves, and they kept clear of the river and the ferries; so everything went smoothly and the Moonshiners cantered up to the Club house at half past eight in the highest possible spirits.
They could see the grove as they dismounted and every one but Babbie was surprised to find the fire already lighted. The dishes and provisions had been carried out in big hampers in the afternoon, and the wood gathered, so there was nothing to do now but stroll over to the fire and begin.
“Why, somebody’s there,” cried Betty suddenly. She was walking ahead with Alice Waite. “I can see two people. They’re stooping over the fire. Why, Alice, it’s two dear little brown elves.”