By this time nearly everyone in the room had paused about the door. Mr. Gedney raised his voice. “Ladies,” he said, “if you will excuse your partners for half an hour they will go out on the trail of our—ah—vanished refection. Scouts, attention! By twos, forward—hike!”
In an instant every Scout, with a hasty excuse to his partner, had vanished from the building.
“It’s that Bent Street gang,” hissed Tom to his sister in passing. “We know where they hang out, and where they’re likely to have cached the eats.”
“I only hope there’ll be something left by the time the Scouts find the food,” wailed Louise. “Don’t look so happy, Winnie—it’s insulting!”
“She’s swelling as if she had an idea,” suggested Helen, who had come over. “What is it, Win?”
“So I have!” said Winona, her eyes sparkling as they always did when Great Ideas came her way. She was rather given to them. She ran across to Mrs. Bryan and began to talk to her in an excited whisper.
When she had done Mrs. Bryan nodded.
“Splendid!” she said. “Tell the girls yourself, my dear.”
So Winona stood swiftly out in the middle of the floor, a slim, gallant little figure in her Indian frock and the long strings of scarlet beads she had added to it.
“Girls!” she said. “Those refreshments mayn’t ever come back. The boys won’t be back with them right away, anyhow. Let’s get together and make some more!”