“Hear and attend and listen, everybody,” said Nyoda when the buttered scones had been reduced to crumbs. “I have been doing some important research work lately and am now ready to present the result of my investigations.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Hinpoha curiously.
“Two weeks ago tonight,” continued Nyoda, “our meeting was broken up by a band of young braves bearing the appetizing title of ‘The Sandwich Club,’ who implored us to let them come and play with us in our Lodge and be lodgers—kindly overlook the pun; it was quite unintentional—providing we weighed them in the balance and found them not wanting.”
“Is there any scale on which ‘Slim’ would be found wanting?” giggled Sahwah,
“I have spent the last two weeks obtaining information,” resumed Nyoda, “which I am happy to report is of a highly satisfactory nature. So, all things considered, and in spite of the informality of the request, I humbly recommend that the aforesaid braves be allowed to lodge in the bottom half of our Lodge at any and all times they may so desire. I might add that I have already obtained the consent of our Bountiful Benefactor, Gladys’ papa. All in favor of letting in the Sandwich Club say ‘Aye.’”
There was a perfect shout of “Ayes,” followed by a ringing cheer.
“When are they going to take possession?” Sahwah wanted to know.
“I’m to tell them tomorrow what your decision was,” replied Nyoda. “It being Saturday, I suppose they will be down in a body to fix up according to their own ideas.”
“What will the interior of a Sandwich Club look like, I wonder?” said Gladys.
“Hark, what was that noise?” asked Nyoda abruptly. The girls listened intently. From the lower floor of the barn there came a thumping noise, followed by a subdued crash.