It was a wonder any of the girls could keep their minds on their lessons that morning. As a matter of fact, they recited so poorly for Miss Ada and Miss Cora that the two "Dill Pickles" turned sourer than ever and threatened to report them to Miss Walters.
But what did they care? The night was before them!
Seven o'clock came, then eight o'clock, and then nine. The gong rang for "lights out," and every girl was in bed and, apparently, sound asleep.
But underneath the bed of each and every girl who was to be in the party was a box or a basket filled to the brim with smuggled dainties.
These containers held cold meat and pickles from the delicatessen shop near by. There was jelly. Olives and biscuits and fancy cakes with foolish icing on top were there—everything in fact that goes to the making of a first class midnight feast.
Miss Ada Dill, making her evening round of the dormitories to see that all was well and every girl in her place, found nothing to arouse her suspicions until she came to Billie's dormitory. Then she paused, started to close the door, opened it again and stood still, intently listening.
And it was Billie who, in her eagerness not to be discovered, almost gave the thing away. For Billie was snoring, gently but decidedly snoring, and to Miss Ada's trained ear, the snore did not sound natural.
So in she came, and Billie, watching out of the corner of one eye, felt a panicky desire to pull the covers over her head and hide.
Suppose Miss Ada should discover that five of the girls in dormitory "C" were not undressed at all, but wore their nightgowns over their clothes?
Suppose—but this was too awful even to imagine—Miss Ada should discover those baskets under the beds. Billie shivered and almost gave the thing away a second time.