“A regular room has some advantages though,” declared Connie as a drop of rain splashed on her upturned face. “One thing, you aren’t always in danger of being caught by a storm.”
The rain began to come down faster and faster.
“Let’s all run to the shelter house,” urged Miss Gordon. “I don’t believe this will last very long.”
The mothers and friends of the Brownies hastened through the woods to the gate house.
For five minutes the rain came down very fast and hard. Then it ceased as abruptly as it had started.
“I believe it’s safe to return for our cookies and cake,” encouraged Miss Gordon as the sun straggled out again. “The trail isn’t very muddy.”
Some of the Girl Scouts and the mothers did not care to return to the tree house since the investiture had been completed.
However, all of the Brownies, Eileen, Miss Gordon, Mrs. Myles and a few of the mothers braved the slippery path to have their refreshments.
Before leaving the tree house, Miss Gordon had taken care that all of the food was under cover. Some of the cushions had been overlooked.
As the group reached the base of the oak tree, Mrs. Myles noticed that the cross-stitch one which once had belonged to her, was thoroughly rain soaked.
“Oh, what a shame!” she exclaimed, picking it up from the ground. “The feathers must be aired or they will mat down.”
With a hairpin, Mrs. Myles ripped the covering of the pillow. Reaching in, she began to fluff the damp feathers.
“If these don’t dry out before I leave, I’ll take the pillow home--” she began.
Mrs. Myles did not complete what she had started to say.
Instead a most peculiar expression came over her face.
“Why, what is wrong, Mrs. Myles?” inquired Connie, who had been gathering up the other water-soaked pillows. She thought that perhaps the elderly woman suddenly had been taken ill.
“I--I think I’ve found something inside this pillow,” Mrs. Myles said in a strange voice.
The Brownies and their mothers quickly closed in about her.
“What have you found?” demanded Veve, for Mrs. Myles had not withdrawn her hand from the interior of the pillow.
“It’s something round--tied with a piece of string,” Mrs. Myles murmured. “I’m--I’m almost afraid to look.”
Now the Brownies thought this a most peculiar attitude to take.