hers, the VanSittart
pride positively glowed. It was the first time that Pip-Emma had
seemed to notice Clara--which was a humiliation in itself, seeing that
Pip-Emma was really Clara's own idea. And Clara, thanks to Prissy's
training diet, was low in her mind anyway.

"Guess what I've found!" Pip-Emma whispered.

But of course Clara couldn't guess anything.

"I've found where they've got all tomorrow's ice cream. Buckets and
buckets of it."

Clara, as top Penguin, wavered. Some lingering Penguin rectitude still
glowed in her, but only faintly. After all, she was hungry. She was
being starved to death. And no one cared. Only Emma Binns seemed to
know what she was suffering.

"Dare you!" Pip-Emma said.

It was Clara's chance. Now she could show the stuff in her. Being born
on Park Avenue didn't mean necessarily that you were a dumb cluck. She
let Pip-Emma lead her by devious paths through the deserted kitchen.
Then to the huge icebox. And there it was--buckets and buckets!
Clara's first handful didn't even make a dent.

"I bet I can eat more than you can," Pip-Emma said.

At breakfast the next morning Miss Thornton made an unusual
appearance. She was grave and even troubled.

"Children, a serious thing has happened. Last night someone must have
broken all our Camp rules. Someone opened the icebox and ate several
pints of our ice cream. I hope--I'm sure--the culprit will stand up at
once and not spoil our happy day for us."

Pip-Emma stood up at once. "It was me, Miss Thornton."

"But, Emma, dear, why? Didn't you have enough to eat? Were you
hungry?"

Pip-Emma said simply and bravely, "I guess I'm always hungry."

Miss Thornton felt the sudden tears come into her throat. Poor little
Emma Binns! No trees. Never enough to eat. And not without a forlorn
charm. Prissy Adams, who had caught a glimpse of Clara's greenish
countenance, remained grim and unmoved.

"Dear child, you should have told me. Come to my tent afterward. We
can talk it over. Meantime it was fine and brave of you to tell the
truth. It shows that you are a real Penguin--" she gave her warm,
beloved chuckle--"almost, but not quite, perfect."

Everyone laughed and cheered except the Penguins, who for some unknown
reason sank into the profoundest gloom. Clara VanSittart had left the
table hurriedly.

* * * * *

Pip-Emma peeked out of the tent. The Penguin Circle was near the lake,
and she could see the parents, looking better from a distanc