"I am still waiting to hear you accept the order," smiled Mrs. Talmage, feeling that the Blue Birds had scored a point.
"Maybe you are not yet ready to do business," suggested Mrs. Wells, with just a touch of sarcasm.
"Of course we are ready!" exclaimed several boys, faintly echoed by the men.
"Then tell us how long will it be before you can show us a proof?" asked Mrs. Talmage.
"H'm! We will have to consult," replied Ned, as he beckoned some of the Bobolinks to the rear of the room.
The Blue Birds were so delighted at catching the Bobolinks napping that they danced up and down, finding it very difficult to keep their secret.
Don was the first to come over to the ladies.
"Say, what do you want that letter for? Where will you ever get paper enough to print ten thousand--we can't buy it for you," he growled.
"Don, come back here and mind your business!" shouted Meredith.
"When you return to the boys, please ask them to hurry, as we have another letter to ask them about--we may need 100,000 of these," said Mrs. Starr sweetly.
The Blue Birds noticed that their fathers looked sceptical at the last sentence.
"You never made up a list like that!" grunted Don, looking at the Blue Birds with fire shining in his eyes.
"What do you think we were doing while you spent your evenings having a good time?" retorted Dot.
"Humph!" was the only reply Don granted his sister.
"Folks said this summer that we Blue Birds were little hustlers, but I never paid much attention to them then; but _now_ I think we are hustlers when I see the way you Bobolinks poke away for two weeks and nothing to show for it," teased May.
Mr. Wells was called over to join the conference of the Bobolinks before an answer was given the Blue Birds.
"We will set this type and run off a proof by to-morrow evening; will that do?" said Ned, coming forward with the letter.
The Blue Birds thought it would take the boys about three days to set type and give a proof, so it was their turn to be surprised. Mrs. Talmage seemed to understand, however, and replied in a very condescending voice:
"Oh, yes, to-morrow will be Saturday, and Uncle Ben will be here at noon. That will be fine, for, of course, he will show you what to do; and I am sure he knows just what he would like for the purpose."