“Has the missing soap anything to do with your merriment?” questioned Grace.
“It may have,” admitted Miss Dean. “Then again it may not.”
“I will take the first part of your answer as the correct one,” laughed Grace.
“You pay your money and take your choice. It is my belief that we folks are about to witness a most entertaining spectacle,” said Emma, nodding towards Stacy, who was gathering up his belongings on his way to the “Fountain,” a small pool of bubbling, boiling water.
Reaching the pool Emma and Grace saw him slip several bars of double X soap into the boiling pot, while Tom Gray, after critically eyeing the pool and its surroundings, sat down beside it. After sousing his garments in the water he drew them out steaming and proceeded to soap them liberally, the Overland girls offering expert advice on laundering clothes. Stacy, who was standing just back of Tom, kicked the latter’s soap into the “Fountain” the instant that Tom Gray laid it down beside him. When Tom reached for the soap he failed to find it.
“Confound the thing! I must have let my soap slip into the basin. Stacy, have you soap to spare?” asked Tom irritably.
“Yes. You may have my cake.”
The soap, that Stacy handed to his companion a moment later, went the way of the other cakes almost instantly, and the pool was soon covered with hot suds. At sight of this, Grace and Emma drew back somewhat hastily, and Hippy, who was about to wet and soap his own clothes, thought better of it and also stepped back a little. Hippy felt that something was going to happen, but having had no experience with geysers, he could not imagine what that something might be. Tom Gray, however, was too busy sousing and scrubbing his clothes to give much thought to what was going on about him.
Stacy Brown’s garments were floating about in the pool while he steered them here and there with a pole, thrusting them down as far as they would go and watching them leap to the surface. “Greasing the geyser” was great sport for him, but the fat boy was disappointed that nothing exciting followed.
Nature’s washing machine surely was doing its work slowly, but well. That was plainly to be seen. Tom Gray’s pink pajamas were floating about in the suds, the legs far apart, greatly to the amusement of the spectators.