“Oh, don’t you think that—sweet!” exulted Mabel, making a true lover’s knot of the end of her long rope of green that Nat had succeeded in intertwining with Dorothy’s ‘cross town line’.
“Delicious,” declared Ned, jumping up and placing his arms about her neck.
“Who’s running this show, any way?” asked Ted. “Do you see the time, Frats?”
The mantle clock chimed six. Ned and Nat jumped up, and shook themselves loose from the stickery holly leaves as if they had been so many feathers.
“We must eat,” declared Ned, dramatically, “for to-morrow we die!”
“We cannot have tea until everything is finished,” Dorothy objected. “Do you think we girls can clean up this room?”
“Call the maids in,” Ned advised, foolishly, for the housemaids at the Cedars were not expected to clean up after the “festooners.”
Dorothy frowned her reply, and continued to gather up the ends of everything. Mabel did not desert either, but before the girls realized it, the boys had run off—to the dining room where a hasty meal, none the less enjoyable, was ready to be eaten.
“What do you suppose they are up to?” Mabel asked.
“There is something going on when they are in such a hurry. What do you say if we follow them? It is not dark, and they can’t be going far,” answered Dorothy.
Mabel gladly agreed, and, a half hour later, the two girls cautiously made their way along the white road, almost in the shadow of three jolly youths. Occasionally they could hear the remarks that the boys made.
“They are going to the wedding!” Dorothy exclaimed. “The seven o’clock wedding at Winter’s!”
Mabel did not reply. The boys had turned around, and she clutched Dorothy’s arm nervously. Instinctively both girls slowed their pace.
“They did not see us,” Dorothy whispered, presently. “But they are turning into Sodden’s!”
Sodden’s was the home of one of the boys’ chums—Gus Sodden by name. He was younger than the others, and had the reputation of being the most reckless chap in North Birchland.
“But,” mused Mabel, “the wedding is to be at the haunted house! I should be afraid——”
“Mabel!” Dorothy exclaimed, “you do not mean to say that you believe in ghosts!”
“Oh—no,” breathed Mabel, “but you know the idea is so creepy.”
“That is why,” Dorothy said with a light laugh, “we have to creep along now. Look at Ned. He must feel our presence near.”