There was to be a spread in the Industrial Building for the winner. Talitha and Martin held frequent conferences all the next day, and by four o’clock a constant procession of boys and girls were busy carrying parcels, bunting, and branches of pine for decoration, and making the rooms of the Agricultural Department attractive for the evening crowd. It was to be a great event for the Goose Creek folks, and they had prepared accordingly. Pete Shackley guarded the chickens. “I knew Abner’d beat, those roosters have been crowing under my bed for two nights. I toted the box into my room the minute I bought them; there’s no telling where they’d be to-day if I hadn’t.” Gincy and Mallie kept the door of Number 4 securely locked, but that precaution did not prevent savoury odours from escaping which the boys sniffed eagerly. “Cake!” exclaimed Martin delightedly. “Tally said Miss Browning was going to let them use the cooking room all day. I smell fruit cookies, too. My, but it’s going to be a spread! I wonder what Piny Twilliger’s doing ’round here; she likes good eating, I suppose.” “Of course, but didn’t you know she’s Abner’s cousin from Redbird?” and Isaac Shackley grasped a big pot of ferns and moved on, leaving Martin staring in astonishment. Piny was so tall and snappy and altogether loud—such a contrast to Gincy—Martin had taken a special dislike to her the very first time she came to Harmonia. That was at the opening of the spring term and now it was getting pretty well along toward Commencement. But the girl’s voice did not seem to improve—it was still coarse and penetrating—she wore the gayest colours, and Martin couldn’t enumerate all the reasons why he disliked her, but he did. It was growing dusk when everything was ready for the spread. They were to serve it in the Domestic Science room at eight o’clock. Nancy Jane had the key and was instructed to remain in charge until the ice cream arrived, then hurry over to the Hall to dress. Nancy Jane turned on the lights and surveyed the room with satisfaction; there was a good deal to show for all their work. The cake was delicious, the chicken fried to a turn. There were great plates of rolls and plenty of pickles. The long table down the centre of the room was decorated with Abner’s class colours, while all around, in festoons, were the orange and black of the Mountain Society—the first typifying the brilliant autumn colouring of the hills; the second, the wealth of coal found in their mines. The building was far from deserted. There was a clatter of feet up and down the bare stairs—fully a dozen boys roomed on the third floor—and Nancy Jane locked the door to secure herself from unceremonious callers. “They’d like to play some game on us—those seniors,” she thought. “They’re pretty sore because a new pupil carried off the honours.”