Nancy Jane listened in dismay. All their lovely frosted cake gone! She ran into the room looking for Piny—somehow she wanted to hear the whole story from her lips.
But among the babel of voices Piny’s could not be heard. She had disappeared completely and did not hear Martin’s angry comment. “I shouldn’t wonder if she had hidden it herself; she’d think that was a great joke.”
“Hush, Martin,” said Talitha, “Piny isn’t mean if she is fond of a joke.” But Martin’s eyes continued to flash as he walked out into the dark, around the building, and looked up at the outside stairs. They were built more as a fire-escape, but the boys on the upper floor often used them. Martin stood in the shadow of the wood-working department and eyed the row of lighted windows. A dark object was crouched on the upper step and as he eyed it intently, it rose and began a noiseless descent.
Martin edged as close as he dared. It passed the lower window and he saw, to his utter amazement, that it was Piny Twilliger, who seemed in great haste to get down. He intercepted her as she reached the ground. “What is it, Piny?” he whispered.
“I’ve found them!” she gasped, “and the cake isn’t eaten yet. Get all the boys together you can. Some will have to watch the door of their room—it’s Seth Laney and that crowd. You’d better get the Shackley boys and go up on the outside—that’s the only way you’ll get in. While the rest are making an awful racket in the hall to attract their attention, you can climb in the window.”
“You do beat everything!” exclaimed Martin, quite conscience-smitten to think he had ever suspected Piny. “You’re a regular general! You bet we’ll get that cake,” and he ran around the building and into the big front entrance like a shot.
It took only a minute to plan the campaign as outlined by Piny. There was an instant siege—within ten minutes an unconditional surrender—and the cake was saved. Borne down in triumph by Martin and Abner, they paused in front of her with a low bow. “Madam,” they said, “the honour belongs to you. Have a piece.”
But Piny laughingly refused to be made a heroine of, and waited until every one else was served. She blushed furiously when they toasted her in lemonade for her presence of mind and courage. “I reckon hit wan’t much,” she said, modestly disclaiming all honours. “I’d promised to watch things, an’ I wan’t goin’ to be beaten nohow.”
The spread was a great success. Afterwards, Abner walked back to the Hall with Gincy and Lalla. “You helped me a lot,” he assured the latter. “I worked up all those notes you gave me and they seemed to strike the nail on the head. I don’t see how you ever thought of them.”
“That wasn’t anything,” said Lalla, “you had a dozen points a good deal better than mine. I’m glad the decision was unanimous for you, though; it was a bigger honour.”