So I looked. Gleaming brass, its seven uplifting arms gracefully curved, stood a—Menorah!
XIX
"BATTLE ROYAL!"
I awoke the next morning to an insistent knocking at my door. I sprang out of bed and opened it. In the hall, their dress showing signs of much haste, stood Sayer and Braley. They did not wait my invitation, but strode at once into the room and, throwing the rumpled covers from the bed, plumped down upon it.
"See here," said Braley, without prelude, "what's this talk about Fred's calling a special meeting of the senior class for tonight? Do you know anything about it?"
I smiled my way out of a pajama top. "Really?" I exclaimed. "Well, I did hear Fred say something about it last night."
"Oh, so you talked it over with him? Did you ask for the meeting?"
I had thrown on a bathrobe. "Yes, I did. Why?"