“Ricky must have borrowed it. He’s the new president of the Junior FBI—excuse me, I mean the Black Spot,” declared Judy. “I don’t think I like their new name. I wonder who dreamed up that one.”
“Blackberry doesn’t seem to care for it, either,” observed Honey. “Just look at the way he’s acting. What’s the matter with him?”
The cat was circling around them as if he wanted to tell them something.
“Shall I take him with us in the car?” asked Horace. “You don’t have to stay home for the children if they’re meeting somewhere else.”
“That’s true,” Judy admitted. “I didn’t tell them, but I planned refreshments. Now we’ll have all that left-over food.”
“What a pity!” Horace said, smacking his lips.
“It’s just cookies and chocolate milk. Hardly a treat for anyone with your appetite,” Judy told him. “The children may be back, anyway, in case Wally’s mother doesn’t approve of their plan. Most of the mothers didn’t want the meetings in their immaculate new houses. That’s why I told them they could meet in our barn. I like having them.”
“If I were you,” Honey said, “I’d like having them somewhere else this afternoon. If we’re looking for whatever we weren’t supposed to look for—”
“What kind of double-talk is this?” Horace interrupted.
“Oh, didn’t we tell you?” Judy knew she hadn’t, but she was still tempted, at times, to tease her brother. It was sort of a game between them.