he Ravens and
Serpents of Lincoln School.

[Illustration: ONE BY ONE, QUITE BREATHLESS WITH EXCITEMENT, THEY
CLIMBED TO THE TOWER ROOM]

All the Ravens agreed with Gyp that their secret society must pledge
itself to protect and serve the spirit of Lincoln; then, having disposed
of that they fell, eagerly, to discussing plans for "spreads."

"Let's take turns bringing eats."

"How often shall we meet?"

"Let's meet every Wednesday. Melodia always makes tarts on Tuesday and
maybe I can coax her to make some extra ones," offered Patricia Everett.

"And the dancing class is in the gym. then and no one will notice us."

"We ought to have knives and forks and things like a regular club!"

"And a president and a secretary."

"I ought to be president." Gyp's tone was final.

The other Ravens assented amicably. "Of course you ought to be. And
Jerry can be secretary because she helped find this spliffy room."

"Girls, at the next meeting let's each bring a knife, fork, spoon, plate
and cup."

"Oh, _won't_ it be fun?" A Raven pirouetted on her toes in a most
unparliamentary and unbird-like fashion.

"Pat and I'll bring the eats next Wednesday," declared Peggy. "Some one
has to start."

"If we've decided everything we have to decide this meeting's
adjourned," and without further formal procedure Gyp summarily brought
to an end the first meeting of the Ravens. After a merry half-hour they
tiptoed down the secret stairway, George Washington went back into his
place on the wall and the eight girls scattered, each to her own home,
with hearts that were fairly bursting with excitement.

That evening at the dinner table Gyp, very obviously, made a secret sign
to Jerry. She brought one hand, with a little downward, spiral movement,
to rest upon the other hand, the first two fingers of each interlocked.

"Oh! Oh! That's a secret sign you made," cried Tibby.

"Well, maybe it is," answered Gyp, putting her spoon in her soup with
assumed indifference.

"Some silly girls' society, I'll bet," put in Graham with a tormenting
grin.

Gyp had passed beyond the age when Graham's teasing could disturb her.
She smiled to show how little she minded his words.

"You'll know, my dear brother, _sometime_, whether we're silly or not,"
she answered with beautiful dignity. "_We're_ not a society that's
organized just for _fun_!" Which was, of course, a slap at the Sphinxes.
Isobel roused suddenly to an active interest in the discussi