"Don't give up," Margaret encouraged. "I could manage another sundae."
"So could I if I had the price," said Helen dryly.
Cleo tapped on the table and Tommie sauntered back.
"Say Tommie, you know we are strangers here," she began adroitly, "and don't know a single Girl Scout in town, and we are supposed to keep up our activities. How do we get in the contest?"
"Who told you about it?" he asked, his face betraying the fatal boyish weakness of succumbing to girls' flattering attention.
"Why, folks are talking about it, of course," went on Cleo sweetly. "It promises to be a big event."
"Bet your life," and the secret spring had been tapped. "That will be some event. We wanted to flash a surprise, but you being Girl Scouts, I think you ought to be in it."
"Of course, we should," came a chorus.
"Tell you what I'll do. I'll propose it at to-night's meeting. I saw you girls save the Bentley chap, and I know you're game," he said stoutly, "so I don't see why not."
"Good for you, Tommie!" Helen wanted to cheer. "And when they put you up for office, just let the True Treds know."