The meeting was spoiled. Tim glanced defiantly around the table. Alex
Davidson tried to get the talk going again, but discussion seemed to lag.
And then, just when Don, in his disgust, was ready to adjourn, the door
opened and Barbara came into the room.

She had glasses and cake, and a pitcher of lemonade. Soon a filled glass
was in front of each scout.

"How is that for a good turn?" she smiled. "Why so many sober faces?
What's the matter with you, Tim?"

Tim flushed, and looked down at the floor.

"He won't tell me," Barbara cried gayly. "That's what I get for being a
girl--can't learn any boy scout secrets. Have a piece of cake, Tim."

"Thank you," said Tim bashfully.

The plate was passed around the table. Tim's eyes were still downcast. At
the door Barbara paused.

"Don't leave those papers on the floor, boys," she said. "Next time I
come in I want to see you all smiling."

Tim ate his cake and drank his lemonade. The talk started again, a little
brisker now, and a little more hopeful. Plans were made for two practice
periods during the week.

"Will that be all right for you, Tim?" Don asked.