At this moment Marjorie decided that it was time to take things into her own hands.
“Did you wish to speak to anyone in particular?” she asked the stranger, courteously.
“Yes—er—I’m from Spaulding’s,” he told her, rather timidly. “I have brought the gymnasium shoes that were ordered.”
“Certainly!” replied Marjorie. “I remember—and I’m sorry that the girls misunderstood. Won’t you have a seat?”
Briefly she explained his errand to the troop, taking care, however, not to mention the name of the donor.
Queenie, who was the first to be fitted, established herself at the door to keep a sharp watch out for Jack. It was her secret desire to be the first to see “what he was like.”
Long before the young salesman, who by this time felt quite at home with the girls, had finished, both Jack and John swung cheerfully down the hall, and stopped at the open door. Queenie greeted them with the utmost hospitality.
“At home to all our friends tonight!” she welcomed them, joyfully. “But I pity you, Mr. Wilkinson, when you try to get basket-ball through our thick heads. We’re nuthin’ but dumb-bells.”
“Just what I like best,” he grinned. “People that don’t think they know it all. They’re much easier to teach.”
Marjorie, who had been watching her brother closely, sensed his immediate liking for Queenie, and felt pleased. She was so anxious for others to back up her judgment, to consider these girls worth-while. Smilingly she came over to the boys.