They thanked her a trifle doubtfully, since none felt inclined for the beverage, and, rather than disappoint her, went out to the kitchen and bore the steaming pot of cocoa back to the dining room. It didn’t taste so bad, after all, nor did the crackers she had provided. Stacey explained softly that once some ten years before one of Mrs. Westcott’s boys who was a football player had asked for a cup of cocoa the night before a game, and that ever since she had provided it religiously. “And,” concluded Stacey, “if you don’t drink it she feels terribly hurt.”
“Tastes very good,” commented Kitty, “but it’s fattening. One shouldn’t drink much of it. I’m sleepy. Good night.”
Stacey watched Kitty depart with an envious smile. “Hasn’t a nerve in his whole body,” he said to Rodney. “I suppose he will sleep eight solid hours to-night!”
“And snore all the time,” laughed Rodney.
Stacey sighed. “Wish I could,” he said. “Good night, Rodney.”
CHAPTER XXIII
BURSLEY ARRIVES
The Bursley game was to be started at two o’clock. At half past ten that morning it became known that Terry Doyle, who had been missing from his usual haunts for ten days, had caught up with his studies and that the faculty had reinstated him. The tidings brought vast relief and satisfaction to Maple Hill. Without Terry Doyle defeat was possible; with him victory was assured. So argued the school. The twins heard the news over the hedge from Tad, who, having nothing better to do that morning, was trying to kill time by manufacturing a bow from a section of barrel stave.
“I’m so glad!” exclaimed Matty, clapping her hands and smiling radiantly over the hedge.