“There, look what you’ve done!” she cried to her brother. “And this was my best dress, too! It’s ruined!”
She began wiping up the spots of lemonade with her handkerchief.
“It’ll come out,” consoled Phil, as he turned to look at the flight of the fluttering insect. “Take a little vinegar, or--er--something like that.”
“Lemonade’s an acid, and it needs an alkali to take it out,” declared Frank. “Vinegar is an acid too. It isn’t a case of like curing like in this case.”
“How do you know?” demanded Sid. “Did you ever take spots out of dresses?”
“No, but I did out of a pair of white trousers that had the same sort of a bath as Ruth’s dress got,” declared the Big Californian. “It worked fine, too.”
“I think lemonade is neutral,” put in Phil. “At least this is, for there’s none left. Sorry I spoiled the party.”
“Oh, there’s more,” spoke Helen. “I brought along a jar in my basket. Pass it over, will you please, Phil.”
The additional supply of lemonade was broached and they fell to talking merrily again, though there was an undercurrent of suspense noticeable. It was clear that the girls did not know what to make of the absence of Madge, and they tried to cover it up by gay laughter.
“Well, you didn’t happen to bring along any more sandwiches; did you Helen?” asked Phil with a sigh, as he finished his--well, but what’s the use in telling on a fellow, and keeping track of the number of sandwiches he eats? Suppose Phil did have a good appetite?
“Oh, Phil!” cried his sister. “You don’t mean to say you’re going to eat more; are you?”
“I am if I can get ’em to eat,” was his cool answer. “Some olives, too. You didn’t, by any chance, I suppose, Helen, put another bottle in that never-failing basket of yours; did you?”
“I certainly did,” she answered with a laugh. “I knew you boys would be hungry.”
“They’re never otherwise,” declared Ruth.
“Cruel sister, to treat her little brother so,” commented Phil, as he used the corkscrew on the bottle of olives, while Helen got out more sandwiches.
There was a sudden pop, and the olive bottle cork came out so unexpectedly that Phil, who was kneeling down to perform that delicate operation, went over backward, while Frank let out a cry of dismay.
“My eye! Oh, my eye!” he exclaimed, holding his hand to his face.