"What'll we pack 'em in?" reiterated Don.
"Let's look round for a box 'bout the right size," said Cyril. "Course we can't carry them in the big board one. It's too heavy."
A good deal of rummaging followed upon that; first in the outer room, then in the other, occupied by Aunt Wealthy and Mildred.
Finally they came upon a pasteboard box standing on Mildred's writing table, which Cyril pronounced just the thing.
"But maybe Milly won't like us to take it," objected Fan, as he unceremoniously emptied the contents upon the table.
"Oh, she won't care; there's nothing in it but old papers and things writed all over. She's done with them and she'll be puttin' them in the fire next thing. You know she always likes to burn up old rubbish."
That last statement was certainly according to fact, and Fan made no further objection.
Don suggested asking leave, but Cyril overruled that also.
"No; they're all too busy down there; we mustn't bother," he said, walking off with his prize.