The fun was well under way by this time. So many people had been victimized that many refused the dainties they coveted, for fear of being deceived, only to find their next neighbor enjoying them. The guests began to try to catch each other, and the young men would get Marian to point out the traps. But, so far, Frank had escaped, though Sherm and Chicken Little had been plotting all day. They took Captain Clarke into their confidence, but even he failed, until he had the happy thought of getting Wing to help. Wing had been working busily in the kitchen assisting Annie. Frank had steadily refused cotton wool doughnuts and sanded pie and every doubtful delicacy, but he was extremely fond of cup custard. When Wing approached him, urging that he be served now, Frank hesitated a moment, then said: "Just bring me a custard, Wing. And Wing, don't let anybody meddle with it." Wing came grinning to the conspirators. "Oh, dear," said Chicken Little, "I think the custards are all right." Marian overheard. "Trust me, Chicken Little, I have one very special one for Frank--I didn't intend to have him crowing." Wing bore in a most tempting custard. Frank inspected it carefully to make sure it had not been tampered with. In so doing he attracted the attention of those round him. He took a generous spoonful and made a hasty dive for the kitchen amid lively applause from the whole room. "What was in it?" The Captain was still shaking. "Mustard--Marian made it bad enough so he couldn't hide it!" Chicken Little was dancing up and down in glee. "Wing, you rascal, I'd like to choke you." Frank was still sputtering. Wing assumed a mournful expression. "Me velly sorry--nobody touch, samee you say." It was the second of April before the last rattle of wheels died away down the lane. "Well, Mother, I think it paid for the trouble," said Dr. Morton, as they were starting homeward, his arms laden with chairs. "Yes, I guess, perhaps, I have been inclined to stand too much aloof. That little Mrs. Anderson is really a cultured woman. She comes from Maine. I asked her to come and spend the day Tuesday." Marian's comment was brief. "Frank, I am dead, but I'm glad we did it." "So am I--put out the light." Frank was already half asleep. CHAPTER XIX SHERM HEARS BAD NEWS "Sherm, don't you just love this room?" Chicken Little gazed about Captain Clarke's big library with a real affection. "I don't know why it is, but this room makes me feel the same way a sunset, or the prairie when it's all in bloom, does. I can't just tell you, but it makes me so satisfied with everything ... as if the world was so beautiful it couldn't possibly be very bad."