father belongs to a club that meets once a month and Arthur goes
there a lot with him. And those men think that plenty of people have
things that they have no right to--oh, like automobiles--I mean,
things that they haven't earned. And the men in Mr. Duncan's club
say that it's perfectly right to take things away from people who
have too much and give them to people who have too little. But I say
that may be all right for grown people but when children do it, it's
just plain _stealing_. And that's all there is to it! But I wanted
you to know that Arthur thought it was right--well sort of right, you
understand--when he took those things. You don't think so now, do
you, after the talking-to I've given you?" She turned severely on
Arthur.

Arthur shuffled and looked embarrassed. "No," he said sheepishly,
"not until you're grown up."

"But what I wanted to say next, Maida," Rosie continued, "is, please
not to tell Dicky. He would be so surprised--and then he wouldn't
keep the things that Arthur gave him. And of course now that Arthur
has paid for them--they're all right for him to have."

"Of course I wouldn't tell anybody," Maida said in a shocked voice,
"not even Granny or Billy--not even my father."

"Then that's settled," Rosie said with a sigh. "Good night."

The next day the following note reached Maida:

You are cordully invited to join the W.M.N.T. Club which meets
three times a week at the house of Miss Rosie Brine, or Mr.
Richard Dore or Mr. Arthur Duncan.

P.S. The name means, WE MUST NEVER TELL.

Maida dreamed nothing but happy dreams that night.

CHAPTER VIII: A RAINY DAY

The next day it rained dismally. Maida had been running the shop for
three weeks but this was her first experience with stormy weather.
Because she, herself, had never been allowed to set her foot
outdoors when the weather was damp, she expected that she would see
no children that day. But long before the bell rang they crowded in
wet streaming groups into the shop. And at nine the lines
disappearing into the big school doorways seemed as long as ever.

Even the Clark twins in rubber boots, long rain-capes and a baby
umbrella came in to spend their daily pennies.

"I guess it'll be one session, Maida," Dorothy whispered.

"Oh goody, Dorothy!" Mabel lisped. "Don't you love one session,
Maida?"

Maida was ashamed to confess to two such tiny girls that she did not
know what "