"Not he—he's like iron. Didn't he send Bob Morely down for three whole days just before the Thanksgiving game 'cause he got up in Cæsar class and translated 'bout the 'Garlic Wars'?"
Gyp sensed the psychological moment to strike.
"Never before in the history of our secret order has such an opportunity to serve our school been given to us——"
"What can we do?"
"One of us can offer ourself on the altar of loyalty——"
Her meaning, stripped of its eloquent verbage, slowly dawned upon six minds! A murmur of protest threatened to become a roar. Gyp hastily dropped her fine oratory and pleaded humbly:
"It's so little for one of us to do compared to what it means, and if we didn't do it and South High beat us, why, we'd suffer lots more with remorse than we would just taking Ginny's punishment for her. Anyway, what did the promise we solemnly made mean? Nothing? We're a nice bunch! I'm perfectly willing to take Ginny Cox's place, but I think each Raven ought to have the chance and we should draw lots——"
"Yes, that would be the fairest way," agreed Pat Everett in a tone that suggested someone had died just the moment before.
"I always draw the unlucky number in everything," shivered Peggy Lee.
"There'll have to be two this time, then, for I always do, too," groaned a sister Raven.