ondered what those
children had been up to now.

CHAPTER XV

DISTURBED CITIZENS

"And I've got one that my boy says is in Dick Fulton's writin'!"
declared another angry citizen.

"Here comes Dick's father now," said Mr. Maynard, as he advanced a step
to meet Mr. Fulton. "They tell me our sons have been writing
miscellaneous letters," he said to Mr. Fulton, and, though there was a
twinkle in his eye, Mr. Fulton saw at once that there was some serious
matter in hand.

"Not only your sons, but your girls, too," growled another man. "My kid
says this is your Marjorie's fist."

"Well, well, what are the letters all about?" asked Mr. Fulton, who did
not like the attitude of the complainants.

"Read 'em, and see!" was the quick response, and half a dozen letters
were thrust toward the two gentlemen.

Mr. Fulton adjusted his glasses, and both he and Mr. Maynard quickly
scanned the notes that were only too surely the work of their own
children.

"The signature is misleading," said Mr. Fulton, who was inwardly shaking
with laughter at the absurd epistles, but who preserved a serious
countenance; "but I feel sure it means 'The Village Improvement
Society.' I have often thought such a society would be a good thing for
our town, but I didn't know one had been started."

"But who _is_ the society? A lot of youngsters?" demanded John Kellogg.

"Ahem! These documents would lead one to think so, wouldn't they?" said
Mr. Fulton, suavely.

But the offended men were not to be so easily placated.

"See here," said one of them, assuming a threatening tone, "these 'ere
letters is insults; that's what I call 'em!"

"And I!" "Me, too!" said several others.

"And as they is insults," went on the first speaker, "we wants
satisfaction; that's what we wants!"

"Yes, yes!" "We do!" chorused the crowd.

Mr. Fulton and Mr. Maynard were decidedly nonplussed. It was difficult
to take the matter seriously, and yet, as these men were so incensed, it
might make an unpleasant publicity for the two families, unless they
placated the angry recipients of those foolish letters.

Mr. Maynard was a quick thinker, and a man of more even disposition and
affable demeanor than Mr. Fulton. So Mr. Maynard, with a nod at his
friend, jumped up on a chair and began to address the crowd, as if he
were on a public platform.

"My friends and fellow-townsmen," he said: "in the first place, Mr.
Fulton and I want to admit that these letters whi