"It's so nice to do things for others," continued their schoolmate gushingly. "When somebody has been looking forward to an event, just think of the bliss of being able to bring it to pass! One would feel a sort of mixture of Santa Claus and Cinderella's Fairy Godmother!" "Go on!" murmured the Mystics. "Well, you see, what I mean is this. Gibbie's been taking ever such a lot of trouble to teach us how to act in emergencies. She must have spent hours thinking out those problems. I sometimes feel, girls, that we do not sufficiently appreciate our teachers!" The grimaces of the six were eloquent. "Get to the point!" suggested Ardiune. "I'm getting! Well, you know, we're all very grateful to Gibbie, and interested in the problems, and happy in our work, and all the rest of it. I think we ought to do something to make a little return to her for her kindness. Now it must be very disappointing to coach us up for these emergencies, and never have an opportunity of putting what we've been taught into practice. If we could show her that her lessons have sunk in, and that we could face a sudden catastrophe with calm courage and prompt presence of mind, then she'd feel her labour had not been in vain. She really deserves it!" "We can't burst the kitchen boiler, or set the cook on fire to oblige her!" objected Valentine. "Certainly not; but there are other emergencies. With proper preparation we might engineer a very neat little Zepp raid, quite sufficient to put every theory into practice." Smiles illuminated the faces of the committee. They began to see daylight. Raymonde re-tied her hair ribbon, and continued: "On that afternoon when I went exploring, I discovered a way on to the roof exactly over Gibbie's bedroom. Now what you've got to do for the next few days is to collect old tins. There ought to be plenty of them about. You can leave the rest to me!" The result of Raymonde's suggestion was an extraordinary activity on the part of her friends in the acquisition of any species of discarded can. They begged empty cocoa tins from the cook, and even climbed over the wall on to the rubbish heap to rescue specimens, rusty or otherwise, that lay there unnoticed and unappropriated. Each can was furnished with four or five large pebbles inside, and was secured at the end with brown paper if the original lid was lost. They were packed in osier-plaited baskets, and hidden away in a corner of the barn until they were wanted. Raymonde regarded her preparations with much satisfaction. "It ought to be enough to wake the dead!" she said, rattling one of the tins in demonstration.