“Three times a week, with evenings, will be enough,” replied A. Swinburne, librarian. “There’s a big job on those books that came in to-night. How many were there finally, Bertha?”
“Ninety-six. About twenty are worth putting labels on,” answered Bertha cheerfully. “I’m a little inclined to think that that part of our plan was a mistake.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Dot. “There was one old duck who brought a German primer, and he strutted around as though he owned the place. I’m sure he’ll use it constantly.”
“He seemed to think he ought to have a card free, because he gave it,” put in Catherine. “I remember him! He wasn’t the only one, though. They all–or a lot of them–seemed to think they ought to be able to draw any number of books on one card, and they don’t like the idea of fines at all. I don’t envy you, Algernon!”
“We ought to have called ourselves the Looking For Trouble Club,” groaned Archie. “We haven’t had a decent Boat Club picnic since we got into 83 this mess. And look at all this place to clean up to-morrow! I’m about dead with work, already. I don’t know about the rest of you.”
The rest had strength enough for a chorus of hoots and jeers at “His Laziness,” who had adorned the scene of their labor for a few minutes now and then, but for the most part had stayed strictly away.
“I’ve saved your lives, anyway,” declared Archie cheerfully, when their derision had spent itself. “And I’m going to again. I hired a lovely scrub-lady to come to-morrow and make this spot look shipshape–”
“O, Archie!” cried the girls, “you beautiful boy!”
“Don’t interrupt,” said the beautiful boy sternly. “I am going to vindicate myself. Polly Osgood, didn’t that tennis game Friday morning save you from collapse? How about that little canoe jaunt on the quiet yesterday, Catherine? Bess needed a drive Thursday, and Winifred did more good to the public by singing to me all that hot evening than the rest of you did slaving away over some gooey job or other. Dorcas let me reward her Sunday-school kids by a hay-rack ride, and she went along to take care of us. Agnes and Bertha got interrupted on their way down here one morning, and let themselves be persuaded to take a country walk instead, to show me birds’ nests for a course I’m not ever going to take next year. And as for 84 Dot,–O, Dot was shamelessly ready to go off any old time with any old body. But you all would have been nervous wrecks by now without me. And you call me names, like an ungrateful populace!”
It was a mirth-provoking series of revelations. “Archie has shown himself a most artistic sly-boots,” said Catherine. “I never had more delicious conscience pangs than I did on that canoe-ride.”