In a short while the feast was in full swing. There was a hall monitor supposed to be on guard, but Tom had bought him off with a slice of cake, some candy and an orange, and he was keeping himself in a front hallway, where he could not hear what was going on.
"If it wasn't for the noise, we might have a song," said Sam. "As it is, I move Songbird recite 'Mary Had a Little Cow,' or something equally elevating."
"I can give you an original bit of verse which I have entitled, 'When the Blossoms Fill the Orchard, Molly Dear,'" answered the doggerel maker.
"Gracious, that sounds like a new nine-cent piece of sheet music," murmured Dick.
"Can't you whistle it?" suggested Tom. "It may sound better."
"Play it out on a fine-tooth comb," suggested Larry.
"Who is ready for ice-cream?" asked Tom, after a general laugh had ensued. "This isn't going to keep hard forever."
All were ready, and the bricks were cut, the pieces laid on tiny wooden plates which had been provided, and passed around. Then came more cake and fruit.
In the midst of the jollification there came a sudden and unexpected knock on the door.
"Who can that be?" whispered several in alarm.