But all the time she knew that just leaving her post at the door when so much depended upon the girls not being discovered was a terrible thing and one that the girls would find it hard to forgive should they find her out.
"If only Caroline doesn't say anything," she thought, adding spitefully: "And now I suppose I've got to be nice to the old thing, whether I want to or not."
Meanwhile, the rest of the girls were having a gay time. Never had a forbidden feast gone off so beautifully before, and they were in hilarious spirits.
As the hour hand of the little clock on Nellie's dresser crept near to midnight the girls packed up the fragments of the feast, and, after they had pushed the baskets out of sight under the beds, drew their chairs together to form a semi-circle and began joyfully to tell the most blood-curdling ghost stories they knew.
Each girl had to tell some story she had read or heard, or if she was so unfortunate as never to have read or heard any, was forced to make one up "out of her own head."
The fun waxed fast and furious, each story being more hair-raising than the last until it came to Billie's turn.
"But I don't know any ghost stories, and I'm no good at making them up," she protested when the girls looked at her expectantly. "I like adventure stories about treasure hunting and robbers and murderers and things——"
"Well, that'll do," said Laura joyfully, while the other girls shivered delightedly and drew close together. "Tell us a murder story, Billie."
Billie was about to open her mouth in protest when Vi suddenly made a suggestion.
"I've got the very thing," she cried. "Tell the girls about the 'Codfish,' Billie."