“Why, it can’t be!” Amy cried. “Even they wouldn’t do such a mean thing.”
“What do you mean—‘radio concert’? They are not going to broadcast an entertainment such as your mother is planning, are they?” asked Darry Drew. “They would not let them do that over at Stratfordtown.”
“No, no,” sighed Jessie. “It will be a local affair, of course. But if they advertise it, and say it is for the hospital, and use the word ‘radio,’ people will get the two affairs mixed.
“The ladies of the committee wanted to interest as many people, far and wide, as possible, and Doctor Stanley will accentuate the need of large and small contributions for the building fund. If Mrs. Ringold’s crowd starts anything in opposition, even if it is for the same good object, in the end it will do harm. I am sure mother’s committee will see it that way.”
“Sure,” said Burd. “If they don’t all pull together people will think the hospital will be run that same way. And that spells failure. How do those Ringolds and Moons get that way?”
“You answer that question; you asked it,” sniffed Amy. “You don’t know the half of it, Burd.”
In the morning Amy ran over early from her house, waving a printed bill in her hand, and called up to Jessie from under the “radio window.” Jessie was only then dressing, for she had remained up until late the night before telling Momsy and Daddy Norwood all about Billy Foley’s party. She came to lean upon the window sill and looked down at her chum.
“What is the matter with you, honey?” she asked. “You sound just as you did the other night when the Water Thrush started to go down.”
“It is because of that old leaky tub that I am here,” declared Amy vigorously. “The boys went down town in the second car this morning for some new rope and hardware for the launch. Darry is going to fix it up grand, and while he and Burd are off on the Marigold we can use the Water Thrush.”
“I’ll ask Daddy if I may,” said Jessie quietly.