“Cousin Jack will help, I know,” said Marjorie; “remember how he played Indians with us, up in Cambridge, last year?”

“Yep, ’course I do.  He’ll be fine!  He always is.”

“Let’s telephone, and ask him right away.”

“All right;” and in a few moments Cousin Jack’s cheery “Hello!” came over the wire.

“Well!” he exclaimed, “if it isn’t those Maynard scamps again!  Now, see here, Mehitabel, it’s time you and Hezekiah went to bed.  It’s nearly nine o’clock.”

“But, Cousin Jack, I just want to ask you something.”

“Not to-night, my Angel Child.  Whatever you ask me to-night, I shall say no to!  Besides, I’m reading my paper, and I can’t be disturbed.”

“But, Cousin Jack——­”

“The Interstate Commerce Commission has to-day handed down a decision in favor of——­”

“Oh, King, he’s reading out of his newspaper, just to tease us!  You try him.”

King took the telephone.  “Please, Cousin Jack, listen a minute,” he said.

But all the reply he heard was: 

“Ephraim Hardenburg has been elected chairman of the executive committee of the Great Coal Tar Company, to succeed James H.——­”

King hung up the receiver in disgust.

“No use,” he said; “Cousin Jack just read more of that newspaper stuff!  Never mind, Midget, we can wait till we see him.  I guess I will scoot to bed, now; I’m awful sleepy.”

But when Cousin Jack heard of their project, a day or two later, he was more than willing to help with the celebration.

“Well, I just guess!” he cried.  “We’ll have a jamboree that’ll make all the good Indians wish they were alive now, instead of four hundred thousand years ago!  We’ll have a wigwam and a wampum and a tomahawk and all the ancient improvements!  Hooray for Pocahontas!”

“Gracious, Jack! you’re the biggest child of the lot!” exclaimed Mrs. Maynard, who sat on the veranda, watching the enthusiasm going on.

“Of course, I am, ma’am!  I’m having a merry playtime this summer with my little friends, and as I have to work hard all winter, I really need this vacation.”

“Of course you do!  But don’t let those two energetic children wear you out.”

“No, ma’am!  More likely I’ll wear them out.  Now, for the wigwam, kiddies.  Have you a couple of Navajo blankets?”

“Yes, we have! and a Bulgarian one, or whatever you call it, to piece out,” cried Midget, as she ran to get them.

“Just the thing!” declared Cousin Jack.  “Put them aside, we won’t use them till the day of the show.  ’Cause why?  ’Cause it might rain,—­but, of course it won’t.  Now, for feathers,—­we want lots of feathers.”

“Old hat feathers?” asked Midget.

“Ostrich plumes?  Nay, nay, me child.  Good stiff quill feathers,—­turkey feathers preferred.  Well, never mind those,—­I’ll fish some up from somewhere.  Now, blankets for the braves and fringed gowns for the squaws.  I’ll show you how, Mehitabel, and you and your respected mother can do the sewing act.”