With hurried steps, the young people made their way to the other end of the table, which they reached just as the fair-haired boy entered the room.
"What's up? Why are you all in here?" Fred inquired, looking from one to another of his friends.
"The girls wanted to help me put the supper on the table and Sandow and Buttons could not bear to be separated from Sallie and Grace for so long," smiled Mrs. Markham.
"I can understand that," returned Fred. "But there's something else. Every one of you has a guilty expression."
"Hungry, you mean," corrected Buttons. "For pity's sake, take your seat and don't keep us waiting any longer. My mouth's been watering for some of Mrs. Markham's pumpkin pie ever since I was asked to supper. Bronson, I told you this morning, you ought to let us select your boarding place for you. Mrs. Markham's the best cook in Baxter. That's why Fred always looks so sleek and superior."
Pleased and laughing at the boyish compliment, Fred's mother bade them be seated.
So intent was the fair-haired boy in assisting Margie, that it was several moments before he noticed his own plate.
"WELL, OF ALL THINGS," HE EXCLAIMED