“Honor forbids me to mention the names of my partners in crime,” answered Joe with great solemnity.  “They will all be glad to know that you were so kind to a poor old woman—­who may have had daughters of her own,” he added with a naughty twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, this is too much.  Do let him go, Dolly,” begged Charlotte.  “We know well enough that Frank and Bert are in it, and probably Phil Canfield and Jack.”

“No, not Phil and Jack,” said Joe quickly, and then groaned inwardly over his stupidity.

“Thanks.  That’s all we wanted to know,” answered Charlotte with triumph in her voice.

“That’s one for you, Charlotte.  You had me there ail right.  Now, ladies, with your kind permission I’ll go, leaving you in part payment for my gorgeous supper my stock in trade.”

He drew from his bag and laid solemnly on the table one paper of pins, one of needles, and a cake of soap.  Then, seeing that the girls at the other door had relaxed their watchfulness, he slipped past them, through the kitchen and out the back door.

A shout of boyish laughter greeted him, and Dorothy groaned as she heard it.  “Why didn’t you keep him, girls?  I was going to make him wash the dishes,” she said mournfully.

“It’s much nicer to have him out of the way,” answered Ruth.  “Besides, I want to taste my pudding and Katharine’s cake if that greedy boy has left any of it.”

“Betty’s mother will be so pleased to hear that we’ve begun so soon to make our club helpful to some one else,” observed Charlotte pensively, as they finished washing the dishes, and the club ended its first meeting with a burst of laughter.

CHAPTER VIII

CHARLOTTE’S PROBLEMS

There was a cold rain, freezing as it fell, and the outdoor world looked cheerless and forsaken.  In Ruth’s room the fire was evidently doing its best to make one forget that it was winter and almost Christmas.  Ruth was absorbed in the tying of a gorgeous lavender bow which was to adorn a sweet-grass basket standing on the table near her.  So intent was she on her work that she heard no footsteps in the hall, and she jumped violently when a voice at the door said, “Well, this is the cheerfulest place I’ve found.  May I come in and stay a little while?”

“Why, Charlotte, of course you may.  I’m delighted to see you,” and Ruth’s glance swept the table and bed to see if any gift were in sight which ought to be concealed.

“Don’t stop your work; just let me lie here and look at the fire.  Meanwhile you can say nice, soothing things to me, for I’m tired and cross.”  Charlotte stretched herself on the rug and even laid her cheek for an instant on the black kitten, a concession that would have filled Betty’s soul with joy.

“What’s the matter?” asked Ruth a bit absently, as she held the basket out at arm’s length and gazed critically at the bow.