o her. The only light in the room came from a pan of alcohol and
salt burning greenly in a corner and casting an unnatural hue over their
faces. The black cats, their eyes touched with phosphorus, glared down
from the plate rail.

Again the voice was heard:--"Gather, gather about the festal board."

"We must obey the witches," urged Helen, and they sat down in the chairs
which they found placed at the table in just the right number. Into the
dim room from the kitchen came two figures dressed in long black capes
and pointed red hats and bearing each a dish heaped high with cakes of
some sort.

"I just have to tell you what these are," said Ethel Brown in her
natural voice as she and Ethel Blue marched around the table and placed
one dish before Roger at one end and another before Helen at the other.
"It's sowens."

"Sowens? What in the world are sowens?" everybody questioned.

"Grandfather told us that Burns says that sowens eaten with butter
always make the Hallowe'en supper, so we looked up in the Century
Dictionary how to make them and this is the result."

"Do you think they're safe?" inquired Della.

"There's a doctor here to take care of us if anything happens," laughed
James. "I'm game. Give me a chance at them."

Roger and Helen began a distribution of the cakes.

"Sowens is--or are--good," decided Dr. Watkins, tasting his cake slowly,
and pronouncing judgment on it after due deliberation.

"We tried them yesterday to make sure they were eatable by Americans,
and we thought they were pretty good, smoking hot, with butter on them,
just as Burns directed."

"Right. They are," agreed all the boys promptly, and the girls agreed
with them, though they were not quite so enthusiastic in their
expression of appreciation as the boys.

Baked apples, nuts and raisins, countless cookies of various lands and
hot gingerbread made an appetizing meal. As it was coming to an end
Helen rapped on the table.

"Please let me pretend this is a club meeting for a minute or two
instead of a party. I want to tell the people here who aren't members of
the U. S. C. what it is we are trying to do."

"We know," responded George. "You're working for the Christmas Ship.
Didn't I dance in your minuet?"

"We are working for the Christmas Ship, but that is only one thing that
the Club does."

"What do the initials mean?" asked Gregory.

"United Service Club. You see Father is in the Navy and Uncle Richard is
in the Army so w