W. S. Webster. “As a matter of fact, one of our firm was passing here in his car, and he left me the memorandum. But I’ve heard of the special sale of fishing tackle out on the Long Leigh road from perhaps a half dozen persons.”

The girls gasped, simultaneously. They were overwhelmed. If their fame had thus travelled afar, what would the day of the sale bring them?

“Very well,” stammered Nancy, trying once again to keep her wet dress out from her neck while she worried over the effect of that besprinkled garment. “I’ll be glad to do what I can with the goods, but really, I had no idea of going in for such, such important articles.”

“If you will let me say so,” remarked Mr. Webster in a gentlemanly way, “I think you girls have the right idea. So many putter around with art stuff these days, that they don’t realize the big chances they are missing in business. Some of America’s brainiest women are heads of our wholesale firms, and they make more money than movie queens,” he finished pleasantly.

When he was finally gone and the door well bolted this time, the three girls joined hands and danced around like a kindergarten class.

“Me for the movie queen!” sang out Isabel. “You, Nance and Ruthie, can sell fish hooks. Just watch this pose and see if I couldn’t pass in a beauty contest—”

There was a racket, a very noisy one, at the side door.

“It’s Ted!” exclaimed Nancy, apprehensively.

“And he’s got a crowd with him.”

“They can’t come in,” Nancy declared. “We are not going to show goods or take any advance orders.”

“Oh me, oh my!” cried Ruth. “No wonder the fine looking drummer said that the brainiest girls in America were in business.”

“He didn’t,” contradicted Nancy. “He said women.”

“Very well, Nancy. Just you wait. Go sit down on a big stump in the woods and wait. By and by you’ll be a woman.”

Then, in spite of all their eloquence, in marched Ted heading a parade of the “fellers.” And what could Nancy do but show them the arrangements.

CHAPTER VIII FISH HOOKS AND FLOATERS

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