LITMIR.BIZ

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idea of the meeting at Marjorie’s home. In consequence she had sulked in her room in solitary grandeur, and finally decided to go to the meeting merely for the sake of tantalizing Rowena by writing her a defiant account of it afterward.

      “Oh, you aren’t really late,” excused Marjorie courteously. “We knew you’d soon be with us, so we waited for you. I see by your hatless condition that you drove here in your runabout. Come into the living room, Mignon, and take your place in joiner’s row.”

      With a patronizing smile, which she blindly believed to be the acme of graciousness, Mignon followed Marjorie into the living room and seated herself on one of the two vacant chairs in the front row. As she greeted her companions her elfish black eyes kept up the usual incessant roving from face to face.

      “Go ahead, Marjorie,” Jerry ordered as she slipped into the remaining vacant chair. “It’s up to you. I’m no orator.”

      “Girls,” rang out Marjorie’s clear tones, “some of you know quite a little bit more about this club idea than others. So I’d better tell you everything from the very beginning.” Briefly, she related what had transpired among the seven seniors on the afternoon they had visited Sargent’s. This accomplished she continued: “So you see we haven’t done much as yet except choose a name and decide what our object is to be. First let me ask you: Have any of you another name that you think would be better than the ‘Lookout Club?’”

      Emphatic approval forthcoming for the name already selected, she went on: “You must understand that the object of this club is purely to help anyone or any good cause we can. We must always be on the lookout with that purpose in view. At first we can’t do much. Later we may do a good deal. But whatever our hands find to do, we must do it with our might. If the club proves a success, then we can pass it on to the next senior class of Sanford High. I believe it would make us all very glad some day to be able to say that we founded the first sorority in our high school. It seems strange to me that there has never been one in Sanford High. At Franklin High, the school I had just entered before I came to Sanford to live, there were several sororities. It would be splendid if we could call ourselves the founders of one at Sanford High.

      “That is about all I can say regarding the object of our club. What we ought to do first this evening is to elect our officers. As there are only fourteen of us in the club, we don’t need many officers. A president, vice-president, secretary and treasurer will be enough. For president, I wish to nominate Jerry Macy. Are there any other nominations for that office? As there are so few of us we might as well make the election a strictly informal affair. Afterward we can conform to the usual method of club procedure.”

      “I nominate Marjorie Dean for president,” put in Jerry quickly.

      “I refuse the nomination.” Marjorie smilingly shook her head. “I shall not accept an office. I prefer to be just a member.”

      “I think Jerry would make a fine president,” said Harriet Delaney with emphasis.

      “But I – ” began Jerry.

      “Are there any further nominations?” interrupted Marjorie mischievously.

      “I don’t want to be president.” Jerry’s protesting voice alone broke the silence.

      “I second the nomination,” declared Rita Talbot.

      Paying no attention to the protest, Marjorie continued: “It has been regularly moved and seconded that Jerry Macy become president of the Lookout Club. Those in favor of the motion please respond by rising.”

      Twelve girls immediately stood up. Jerry alone remained seated, scowling ferociously.

      “I declare Jerry Macy to be president of the Lookout Club,” stated Marjorie. “Don’t look so cross about it, Jerry. You can’t help yourself. Come up here now and show us how nicely you can conduct the rest of the election.”

      “Not for mine. I mean not to-night,” amended Jerry hastily. “I won’t decline to be president, because I am no quitter. If you girls are determined to have me for that high and mighty office, I’ll do my best to fill it. Still, I must say I don’t admire your taste.”

      A general laugh went up at this naïve speech of acceptance. Only one girl did not smile. In her secret heart Mignon was not in favor of the stout girl for president. She had voted for her merely because she did not wish to be the only one on the contrary side.

      “Since Jerry refuses to begin her duties to-night, I’ll let her off for just once,” asserted Marjorie playfully. “We will now consider the office of vice-president. Nominations are in order.”

      “I move that we nominate Muriel Harding for vice-president,” volunteered Daisy Griggs.

      Susan Atwell instantly seconded the nomination. The matter was then put to vote and Muriel was unanimously elected to the honor of the vice-presidency.

      “Nominations for treasurer are now in order,” announced Marjorie. Her color deepened a trifle as she spoke. This particular part of the election did not appeal to her. Both she and Jerry had encountered sturdy opposition when they had privately interviewed their friends regarding their proposal to make Mignon treasurer of the club. In the end they had won a concerted though reluctant consent to the project. Marjorie now felt a trifle anxious for fear ample time for reflection might have caused one or more of them to alter their decision.

      “I nominate Mignon La Salle for the office of treasurer.” Constance Stevens’ low, sweet voice cut the silence.

      “I second the motion,” came reassuringly from Irma Linton.

      Marjorie flashed her a quick, grateful glance. Irma Linton, too, could always be depended on to do the right thing at the right moment. Her gaze resting next on Mignon, she was inwardly amused at the expression of blank amazement that overspread the French girl’s sharp features. Mignon had, indeed, been treated to a pleasant surprise. A gleam of intense triumph shone in her large, black eyes when a moment later twelve girls loyally rose to their feet in response to Marjorie’s mechanically-stated request.

      Was it really true that she, Mignon La Salle, had actually been nominated by Constance Stevens and chosen by the girls whom she privately scorned to fill an important office in the club? It looked as though at last they were beginning to come to their senses. Possessed of an overweening vanity, Mignon smilingly accepted her election to the post of treasurer as a distinct compliment to herself. Far from being grateful for it, she regarded it purely as a step toward the popularity which she had ever craved. It also gave her a thrill of malicious joy to discover in her hands an efficient means of arousing Rowena’s jealousy. How greatly she would enjoy writing Rowena the news, and how furious Rowena would be! A mocking smile touched her red lips as she gleefully anticipated Rowena’s rage.

      Engaged in rapt meditation of this desirable consummation, Mignon did not realize that a pair of shrewd eyes had marked that smile and translated it with surprising accuracy. “I’ll bet you my hat she’s wondering how Rowena will take it,” was Jerry Macy’s astute conclusion. A surmise which seemed indeed to point to the truth of Jerry’s frequent assertion that she “knew everything about everybody.”

      CHAPTER VIII – THE RULE OF RULES

      The fourth and last officer to be elected was the secretary, and this honor fell to gentle Irma Linton. Ever modest and self-effacing, Irma was even more greatly surprised at her own election than Mignon had been when Constance Stevens had suddenly declared herself.

      “Will the four distinguished officers please come forward and stand in a row and receive the congratulations of the humble members?” requested Marjorie gaily. “After that I will conduct them to their official stations and let them run the meeting.”

      Several minutes of merry talk and handshaking went on before Jerry assumed the scepter of office and called the meeting to order again. Mignon and Irma had now been given seats at the big library table at one end of the room. Muriel had moved her chair to the front, placing it a little to one side of where Jerry stood.

      “Ahem!” ejaculated Jerry, then giggled. “As president of this club, it now becomes my duty to discuss with you a number of rules and

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