“A new list was sent out to all the members at the start of the semester,” Ned replied. “But I just thought of something. Penny switched to a new e-mail address a couple of weeks ago. She was getting too much spam and garbage at her old one.”
Nancy grabbed his arm. “So if she got this message, it means the sender not only has the IFC mailing list, he has the latest version of it.”
Nancy looked around. Penny was still with Dina. They were talking in a confidential way. Nancy caught Penny’s eye and beckoned her over. Penny said something quickly to Dina, then joined them. Nancy explained what they wanted. Just moments later they had the answer to their question. There was a copy of the e-mail from “Friends of International Friendship” in Penny’s mailbox.
“Let’s check one other thing,” Nancy said, taking Penny’s place at the keyboard. She typed in www.fif.org and hit Return. After a short pause a banner appeared across the top of the screen: Welcome to Fifty Interesting Facts—the Web Site of the World Trivia League.
“That means the ‘From’ line in the message is a phony,” Ned said. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Me either,” Nancy replied. “If I were sending a poison-pen letter, I don’t think I’d be dumb enough to give my real return address.”
“Who would do a thing like this?” Penny wondered.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to try to find out,” Nancy told her.
Penny looked at her with wide eyes. “That’s right, you’re a detective!” she exclaimed. “I forgot that. It’s so lucky you’re here to help.”
Dina walked over to them. “What is lucky?” she demanded. “What are you doing? Has something else happened?”
“Ned and I both got that e-mail,” Penny replied.
“I knew it,” Dina said. “This is Vlad’s doing.”
“Boh!” Vlad shouted from across the room. “You probably sent it yourself. Maybe you think this is the way to win votes out of sympathy. But you will see. IFC members are too intelligent to fall for your stupid tricks.”
Cyril took Vlad’s arm and tugged him toward the door. “Come on, chum,” he said. “Let’s you and me take a walk. Everyone needs a chance to cool off. We’ll have to pull together if we’re going to make the festival a success.”
As Cyril and Vlad left, Ned glanced at his watch. “Uh-oh,” he said. “I just remembered. I left some papers in my room. I have to go get them before the steering committee meeting at six. Penny, would you mind taking charge of Nancy, George, and Bess for a little while?”
“No problem,” Penny said cheerfully. “Dina? Joann? Let’s take our guests by the dorm and show them where they’ll be staying.”
“The meeting’s in the common room on the ground floor of Centennial,” Ned added to Nancy. He sounded apologetic. “That’s the dorm you’re in. After you get settled, come downstairs and find us.”
“Sure, Nickerson,” Nancy said, wrinkling her nose at him. “Don’t worry about us. We can take care of ourselves.”
Nancy and her friends grabbed their knapsacks and followed Penny, Joann, and Dina out of the student center. On the walk across campus, both Joann and Dina were silent and preoccupied. After a couple of tries at talking to them, George and Bess joined Nancy and Penny.
“How do you like it here at Emerson, Penny?” asked Bess.
“Oh, I love it,” Penny responded. “It’s been such an education for me, especially meeting other kids from all over the world. Do you know, we have students here from practically every state and from over thirty other countries? It’s almost like having a little UN, right on campus.”
“How about you?” George asked. “Where are you from?”
Penny made a funny face. “I grew up in a little town in Indiana,” she said. “Miles from anyplace you’ve heard of. It was kind of closed in. I knew all the kids in my high school class since kindergarten, and four of them were some kind of cousin.”
“George and I are cousins,” Bess remarked.
Penny blushed. “Don’t get me wrong, I like my cousins—most of them, anyway. There are a couple I could do without.”
George laughed. “I think everybody feels that way now and then,” she said with a pointed look at Bess.
Bess just gave her a very sweet smile.
“I didn’t mean to start anything between you two,” Penny said with a smile. “They say old friends are the best. Maybe so, but it’s great to meet new people, too. And you can imagine what it was like for me, getting to know kids from Brazil and India and different countries in Africa—all over. That’s why I love being in the IFC.”
Nancy looked around. Joann and Dina were a dozen feet behind, walking separately. Lowering her voice, Nancy asked Penny, “What was all that just now?”
“With Vlad and Dina, you mean?” Penny replied. “I hate politics. It makes people so mean sometimes. Dina and Vlad are both pretty nice when you get them by themselves. But they’ve been going at it like cats and dogs ever since they met, all because their countries don’t get along. That is so sick! And now that they’re both running for president of the club, it’s a hundred times worse.”
“Oh, well,” George said. “It’s not for long. The election’s pretty soon, isn’t it?”
Penny shook her head. “Two weeks from now. But you don’t understand. So many people are taking sides. It doesn’t matter who wins. A lot of the kids who supported the loser will probably drop out. Or they’ll stay around and make things so unpleasant that the rest of us will drop out.”
“That’s terrible,” Bess said. “What about people like you, who only want what’s best for the club? Can’t you do anything?”
“We’re trying,” Penny said with a sad smile. “Maybe if we all work on making the festival a big success, we’ll learn to get along, in spite of our differences. I hope so, anyway.”
“So do I,” Bess said. “I think international friendship is so important. And worldbeat rules!”
• • •
Centennial Hall was a three-story building of redbrick, with ivy climbing up the walls. The white pillars flanking the front steps gave it a colonial look.
Inside, Penny paused and pointed to the room on the left. “That’s the common room,” she said. “Where the steering committee will be meeting.”
Nancy glanced through the doorway. The room looked impressive but comfortable. The walls were paneled in dark wood. At the far end, over a brick fireplace with a carved wooden mantel, was a large painting of a man with a white beard, wearing academic robes. Couches and easy chairs were scattered around the room. About half were occupied by students who were reading or napping with open books on their laps. One guy was stretched out on a couch with his shoes off, snoring loudly.
“It looks nice,” George said. “Is this where you usually study?”
