“What ever would you girls have done this evening if Alma’s little story did not furnish you with debate material,” scoffed Doro.
“The story Alma never told,” chanted Lad.
“All the same,” declared Treble, “it is perfectly delicious. Who’s going to make the call on Mrs. Jerry Manton?”
The shout that followed this question brought a protest from the next tent where candidates were studying manuals.
“Let’s take a vote on it,” suggested Thistle, when quiet seemed possible. “Since every one wants to go and we haven’t heard the Mantons were going to give a picnic or anything like that—why—the best thing to do is to draw lots.”
“How tragic! Draw lots! I say we make it numbers from Doro’s cap. Here girls, get busy and numb.”
A page of note paper was quickly numbered and torn into squares. Then the lot was tossed into Doro’s cap—it was the deepest for the little girl did not wear her hair bobbed. When the cap was filled she was the one chosen to hold it, and upon the highest chair she presently stood while the girls jumped for numbers. The four highest were to constitute the committee and the lot fell to Betta, Pell, Wyn and Thistle.
It was arranged that these four should go in the morning to call upon Mrs. Jerry Manton, their good friend and erstwhile preceptor in woodlore, and it was fully expected that the young visitor would then naturally be introduced.
And this was the very day that Nora donned her new service suit.