"I'd like to say that I never heard so much talking and saw so little action," began Ned, impatiently. "What's the matter with some one saying something useful instead of just chewing the rag?"

"You tell 'em," piped a small junior, above the applause and laughter.

"All right! I'll tell you fellows that you're a lot of pikers to hesitate to pledge three or four hundred dollars to keep your team going. Where I come from we had to have a new grand stand two years ago, and we called a meeting like this and we raised seven hundred dollars in thirty-five minutes in cash and pledges. There were a lot more of us, but half of us would have felt like Rockefellers if we'd ever found a whole half-dollar in our pockets! Some of us gave as high as five dollars, but not many. Most of us pledged two dollars; and those who didn't have two dollars went out and worked until they'd made it, by jingo! And we got our grand stand up inside of two weeks, in time for the big baseball game."

There was real applause this time, and those in the front of the hall had swung around to have a look at the earnest youth who was calling them names.

"That's one way of getting the money," continued Ned, warming up finely, "but there's another. Out my way-"

"Say, where do you come from?" called some one.

"I come from California," answered Ned, proudly. "Maybe you've heard of it!"

"Attaboy!" shouted Kewpie. "Swing your leg, Nid!"

"When we want to raise some money out there and folks are too stingy to give it outright, we take it away from them another way. We get up a fete. We give them a good time and they pay for it. Why not try it here?

I don't know how many folks there are in this burg, but I reckon there are enough to part with three or four hundred dollars. Give them an excuse to spend their money and they'll spend it!"

Ned sat down amid loud applause, and Dave Brewster was recognized, although half a dozen others were clamoring for speech.

"Turner's said something, fellows," declared Brewster. "The idea's worth considering. We've never tackled the town folks for money, and there's no reason why they shouldn't come across. They've come to our games for years without paying a cent, except for the Farview game, and it wouldn't hurt them to give a little to a good cause. I don't know what sort of a fete Turner has in mind, but I should think we might get up something that would do the business."

"Mr. Chairman," said Kewpie, "I move that a committee of three be appointed by the chair, to include Nid,-I mean Mr. Turner,-to consider the-the matter of giving a fete to raise the money."

"Seconded!"

"You have heard the motion," droned Whipple. "All those in favor will so signify by saying 'Aye.' Contrary, 'No.' Moved and carried. I will appoint the presidents of the senior and upper middle cla.s.ses and Mr.

Turner to the committee, three in all. Is it the sense of this meeting that your committee is to report to it at a subsequent meeting, or is it to have authority to proceed with the matter if it decides that the scheme is a good one?"

"Full authority, Mr. Chairman!" "Let 'em go ahead with it!" "Sure!

That's what we want. Let's have action!"

"Is there any other business? Then I declare the meeting adjourned!"

Whipple captured Ned on the way out. "We'd better get together right away on this, Turner," he said. "Can you meet Cooper and me at my room to-morrow at twelve?"

Ned agreed, and he and Laurie and Lee went on. "What I'd like to know,"

remarked Laurie, after a moment's silence, "is how you're going to have a fete in a place like this. The weather's too cold for it."

"Maybe it will be warmer," answered Ned, cheerfully. "Besides, we don't have to have it outdoors."

"It wouldn't be a fete if you didn't," sniffed the other.

"Well, what's the difference? Call it anything you like. The big thing is to get the money."

"You had your cheek with you to talk the way you did," chuckled Laurie.

"He talked sense, though," a.s.serted Lee, warmly.

"Of course. The Turners always do." Laurie steered Ned toward the entrance of East Hall. "Well, good night, Lee. See you at the fete!"

Upstairs, Ned tossed his cap to the bed, plumped himself into a chair at the table, and drew paper and pencil to him. "Now," he said, "let's figure this out. I've got to talk turkey to those fellows to-morrow.

What's your idea, partner?"

"Hey, where do you get that stuff?" demanded Laurie. "Why drag me into it? It's not my fete. I don't own it."

"Shut up and sit down there before I punch your head. You've got to help with this. The honor of the Turners is at stake!"

So Laurie subsided and for more than an hour he and Ned racked their brains and gradually the plan took shape.

CHAPTER XII-THE COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS

"It's like this," explained Ned. He and Laurie and Polly and Mae Ferrand were in the little garden behind the shop. The girls were on the bench and the boys were seated on the turf before the arbor, their knees encircled with their arms. A few yards away Antoinette eyed them gravely and twitched her nose. On the porch step, Towser, the big black cat, blinked benignly, sometimes shifting his gaze to the branches of the maple in the next yard, where an impudent black-and-white woodp.e.c.k.e.r was seeking a late luncheon.

"There are two sub-committees," continued Ned, earnestly. "Whipple and Cooper are the Committee on Finance and Publicity, and Laurie and I are the Committee on Arrangements. I told them I had to have help and so they took Laurie in."

"No thanks to you," grumbled Laurie, who was, however, secretly much pleased.

"It's going to be next Sat.u.r.day afternoon and evening, and this is Tuesday, and so there isn't much time. We were afraid to make it any later because the weather might get too cold. Besides, the team needs the money right off. I looked in an almanac and it said that next Sat.u.r.day would be fair and warm, so that's all right."

"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly. "I know ours does. When we had our high-school picnic, the almanac said 'showers' and it was a perfectly gorgeous day. I carried my mackintosh around all day and it was a perfect nuisance. Don't you remember, Mae?"

"Well, you've got to believe in something," declared Ned. "Anyway, we're going to have it at Bob Starling's, and if it's too cold outdoors, we'll move inside."

"You mean at Uncle Peter's?" exclaimed Polly.

"Yes. We thought of having it at school first, but Mr. Hillman didn't like it much; and besides, the fellows would be inside without having to pay to get there! You see, it's going to cost every one a quarter just to get in."

"And how much to get out?" asked Mae, innocently.

Ned grinned. "As much as we can get away from them. There'll be twelve booths to sell things in-"

"What sort of things?" Polly inquired.

"All sorts. Eats and drinks and everything. We're getting the storekeepers to donate things. So far they've just given us things that they haven't been able to sell, a pile of junk; but we're going to stop that. Biddle, the hardware man, gave us a dozen cheap pocket-knives, but he's got to come across again. We've been to only eight of them so far, but we haven't done so worse. Guess we've got enough truck for one booth already. And then there'll be one of them for a rummage sale. We're going to get each of the fellows to give us something for that, and I'll bet we'll have a fine lot of truck. Each booth will represent a college and be decorated in the proper colors: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and so on. And-and now it's your turn, Laurie."

"Yes, I notice that I always have to do the dirty work," said the other.

He hugged his knees tighter, rolled over on his back for inspiration, and, when he again faced his audience on the bench, smiled his nicest.

"Here's where you girls come in," he announced. "We want you two to take two of the booths and get a girl for each of the others. Want to?"

"Oh, it would be darling!" cried Polly.

"I'd love to!" said Mae.