t was fun, and
their shrieks of laughter aroused sympathetic smiles in other rooms. No
teachers and no member of the other classes were permitted to enter, but
Aunt Nancy, the fat cook, and half a dozen young waitresses peeped in at
the door and enjoyed the spectacle hugely.

Betty Gordon obligingly cantered across the platform on a chair and won
applause by her realistic interpretation of western riding. Bobby
convulsed the room with her imaginary efforts to cut and fit a dress, her
mistakes being glaring ones, for Bobby never touched a needle if she
could help it. Clever Constance Howard had gone for her ukulele and
played it charmingly. Libbie insisted on giving the "balcony scene" from
Romeo and Juliet, in which she was supported by the unwilling Frances,
who was certainly the stiffest Romeo who ever walked the stage.

"Ada Nansen," called the leader, when the eight chums had made their
individual contributions to the program.

CHAPTER XIV

A SATURDAY RACE

Ada had been watching the others with a contempt she made little attempt
to conceal. When her name was called she walked to the platform and faced
the leader defiantly.

"What can you do best, Ada?" came the familiar question.

Ada smiled patronizingly.

"Spend money," she said briefly.

"Do that," said the young leader calmly.

"How can I spend money here?" demanded Ada angrily. "There's nothing to
buy. I call that silly."

"Then you admit you can't spend money?"

"No such thing!" Ada stamped her foot, furious at such stupidity. "I say
I can't spend it here where there is nothing to buy. You let me go to
Edentown, and I'll show you whether I can spend money or not."

"The order of the first degree of the Mysterious Four is that the
candidate must do what she can do best," repeated the veiled figure
insistently. "What can you do best?"

"Sing," said Ada sullenly.

"Then do that."

And now the watching girls had what Bobby later admitted was "the
surprise of their lives."

The girl at the piano fingered a chord tentatively, then struck into a
popular song, an appealing little melody, the words a lyric set to music
by a composer with a spark of genius.

"I picked a rose in my garden fair--" sang Ada.

She sang without affectation. Her voice was a charming contralto,
evidently partially trained, and promising with coming years to be worth
consideration.

"But it withered in a day--" went on the lovely voice.

The girls were absol