“Well, the future governor of Arizona will get his bloodstone fob all right as far as my patronage will help,” said Cornie, when she had laughingly applauded Dorene’s suggestion.  She carefully picked up the last crumb.  “I shall speak for three pounds of this right off.  Papa has such a sweet tooth that he’d a thousand times rather have a box of this than a dozen silk mufflers and shaving cases and such things that usually fall to a man’s lot at Christmas.”

If the girls in this exclusive school thought it strange that one of their number should start a money-making enterprise, no whisper of it reached Mary.  Her sturdy independence forbade any air of patronage, and she was such a general favourite that whatever she did was passed over with a laugh.  The few who might have been inclined to criticize found it an unpopular thing to do.  The object for which she was working enlisted every one’s interest.  Jack would have ground his teeth with mortification had he known that every girl in school was interested in his getting a bloodstone watch-fob in his Christmas stocking, and daily discussed the means by which it was being procured.

Orders came in rapidly, and Mary spent every spare moment in cracking pecans, and picking out the kernels so carefully that they fell from the shells in unbroken halves.  It was a tedious undertaking and even her study hours were encroached upon.  Not that she ever neglected a lesson for the sake of the pecans, for, as she said to Elise, “I’ve set my heart on taking the valedictory for Jack’s sake, and of course I couldn’t sacrifice that ambition for all the watch-fobs in the catalogue.  He wouldn’t want one at that price.  But I’ve found that I can pick out nuts and learn French verbs at the same time.  If you and A.O. will come up to the Dom.  Sci. this afternoon at four thirty, and not let any of the other girls know, I’ll let you scrape the kettle and eat the scraps that crumble from the corners when I cut the squares.  But I can not let any one in while I’m measuring and boiling.  I couldn’t afford to make a mistake.”

Promptly at the time set, the girls tapped for admission, for there was no denying the drawing qualities of Mary’s wares.  The pun was common property in the school.

“Elise,” said A.O., pausing in her critical tasting, when they had been at it some time.  “I really believe that this is better than Huyler’s hot fudge Sun-balls.  And it is lots better than the candy that Lieutenant Logan sent you last week.”

Elise made a face expressing both surprise and reproof.  “Considering that you ate the lion’s share of it, Miss Miggs, that speech is neither pretty nor polite.”

“I wonder,” continued A.O., paying no attention to her, “if the Lieutenant knows what a public benefactor he is, when he sends you bon-bons and books and things.”  She had enjoyed his many offerings to Elise as much as the recipient and thought it wise to follow her first speech with a compliment.