“I have other matters of such importance on hand that I must deputize Miss Howard to unravel the mystery for you,” she said, as she slipped away to the upper hall where the telephone was placed, and a moment later the girls heard the bell jingle and a funny, one-sided conversation followed. “Hello, Central! 1305. Is this 1305? Send me the usual order. Yes, four kinds. Eight. Well packed. Be prompt.”
The porter carried the big box to Toinette’s room and removed the lid for her. Such an array! I’m not going to attempt to tell about it, but shall let every girl who has ever attended a chum’s birthday feast mention the articles of which that feast consisted, and then, after combining the entire list, they can form some idea of the contents of Toinette’s box.
“Fly, Cicely, and hunt up every C. C. C., and a dozen besides! We can never dispose of such a cartload of stuff in a week if we don’t have the entire school to help us,” cried Toinette, as she lifted one thing after another from the box.
There is a saying that “Ill news flies fast,” but, in my humble opinion, it is as a stage-coach beside the Empire State Express when compared to the fleetness of good news. So it did not take long to start this bit like an electric fluid through the school, and what sort of “Free Masonry” filled in details so successfully I know not.
CHAPTER XXV
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THIS TIME OF NIGHT?”
It so happened that of the ten resident teachers but three were at home that evening; the others having joined a theatre party going to town, and it would be midnight before they returned.
Those at home were Miss Preston, Miss Howard, and, unfortunately, Mrs. Stone. Of the first two mentioned the girls felt small apprehension, for they understood them pretty thoroughly, but Mrs. Stone was an obstacle not so easily surmounted, and it seemed to them that she was never more ubiquitous.