After a moment Frank announced, "I want you fellows to help me out with this note. I never did anything like it before. I've written lots of compositions. But this is diplomatic work."
Ned tapped his forehead and took on a look of deep thought. Dick coughed and struck the attitude of a thinker.
"O, laugh if you like, but if you had been through what I have, you wouldn't think it was a joke," muttered Frank.
"Well, what do you want us to do?" asked Dick.
"Put our heads together and send the right kind of note," answered Frank.
"I say," suggested Dick, "suppose we each write a note and the one that's best, goes."
"Good idea," replied Frank, "and let's do it now, right here."
So they sat down to frame the note. For ten minutes not a word was spoken. Each boy at his own place was poring over a few lines he had written and then scratched, and then written again.
The silence was broken at last by Frank's voice exclaiming, "Well, who's through?" No reply. "I say fellows, I can't get started."
"Ditto," echoed Dick.