"It was good he came, wasn't it?"

"Yes, for a few minutes after that, the old servant touched her sleeve. 'I hear distant riders, it must be soldiers! Let us take to the woods here until they pass.'

"It seemed almost impossible, they thought, that the soldiers did not see them, for they had not been concealed when the British troop rode by on the way to the attack at King's Bridge. Lady Betty was trembling with fright, as the officer in command called, 'Halt!'"

"O—ooh!" exclaimed Kit. "I would have died of fright, I know I would!"

"But Lady Betty didn't. She held on to the bridle with a firm grasp and hardly breathed. You see she had to save not only her husband but the Manor as well. Everything depended on her. Every moment she expected to see the troops following them and the call to fire, but after a short rest, the order to march was given and Lady Betty drew a sigh of relief.

"They kept to the fields from then on, and in an hour saw the little cabin dark, gloomy and poverty-stricken, in front of them.

"At the first sound of horses stopping, old Martha came to the door, ready to put up a fight if need be, but when she recognized Lady Betty she shouted with joy, 'Sam, brisk up that fire a bit, it's your mistress returned.'"

"I know Lady Betty went straight to her wounded husband," said Kit triumphantly.

"Of course," exclaimed Bet. "She wouldn't wait a second. He was tossing about on the bed, anxious about the safety of his wife. And when he saw her coming into the room, he held out his hands to her, and there were tears in his eyes. After he had held her in his arms to assure himself that she was safe, he said, 'Betty, the message?' She hastened to reply: 'I delivered it right into General Brock's hands. Do not worry, the message went through.'

"Lord Cecil didn't get well quickly. The wound in his leg was worse than they thought at first. And he was weak from loss of blood. The little cabin afforded so few of the comforts of life that she decided to get Lord Cecil back to the Manor as soon as possible."

"But wasn't there greater danger there?"

"No, that is Lady Betty didn't think so. At the Manor were stores of food hidden away, and here they were half starved. That's why she got word to the old servant, to come and help her take the master home. And when they got him home, they hid him away."

"Oh Bet, where did they hide him?" asked Kit.

"In that long tunnel, in the arched room."

"The one you showed me the other day, is that it?"

"Yes, that's the one. Lady Betty moved down all the comfortable things he needed, and she stayed there with him, living in the tunnel."

"And did people guess it, the enemy I mean?"

"No, they had good luck that way. The old servant took charge of the house and cooked the food for them. They were not disturbed often, but they could never be sure when a company of soldiers might come by and stay for the night.

"And once the very men who were looking for Lord Cecil, stayed a day and a half. Old Denby had a hard time keeping his temper, for they ransacked the house. Only the fact that one of the men hoped someday to be in possession of the estate, kept them from destroying the place.

"Lady Betty used to go back and forth through the Manor, always listening for footsteps outside. And one night she got caught. She came face to face with an officer of the British army, Colonel Webb. The man was an intimate friend of Lord Cecil's and had been entertained in the Manor many times."

"O—oh Bet! What happened?"

"Lady Betty gave a little gasp of dismay. 'Arthur Webb! You here!' she exclaimed.

"'Yes, Betty, but do not fear, I will not harm you or give away your secret. I thought you were miles from here.' You know, Kit, I always like to think that Colonel Webb was half in love with her, for he came and kissed her hand over and over again. Wasn't that lovely?"

The girls gave themselves up to their dreams for a little while, then Kit said, "And did Colonel Webb find out that Lord Cecil was there, too?"

"He suspected it after a while, for he knew that Lord Cecil had been wounded and was ill. So he begged her to let him see his friend. But it was only after much pleading that she finally allowed him to descend the steps that led to the tunnel. Colonel Webb waited until late in the night to be sure that his men were asleep.

"The three friends spent the rest of the night talking of the happiness they had had together, and the sorrow and tragedy that the war had brought to all of them. Lady Betty must have been glad that she had allowed Colonel Webb to come and spend those hours with them, for later on he was killed in an engagement and they never saw him again."

"How sad they must have felt," whispered Kit.

"Yes. Lady Betty was never as gay again. You couldn't expect her to be: she had seen and heard of so much suffering and disappointments."

"And did Lord Cecil ever go back to the war?"

"He was in the last campaign that meant victory for the Americans. By the time the war was over, Lord Cecil was a poor man. He had the Manor, of course, but there was little money and they had few luxuries."

"But I'm sure Lady Betty didn't care about that! She still had Lord Cecil!"

"You know, Kit, I don't believe people have a chance now-a-days to show so much courage. In those stirring times, one had to do daring things."

"If Lady Betty were alive now, I think she'd do something wonderful. It was her nature."

"I think she'd be pleased if she knew about our club, don't you? The Merriweather Girls! I half fancy her smile is sweeter since we thought of it," smiled Bet. "She's the dearest thing, isn't she?"

"It's the most beautiful picture I've ever seen, Bet. Where did it come from. Was it in the Manor when your father bought the place?"

"No, the picture was painted by Gilbert Stuart, the artist who made so many pictures of Washington, and it was handed down by several people and finally sold at auction."

"Think of anyone who owned it being willing to sell it at auction!"

"I'm glad they did, because that was how Dad got it. A number of people wanted it. That's the time Peter Gruff bid against Dad and finally had to give up, as Dad ran the price up too high for him. He stormed and raved. But my mother had said she would like to have it for her reception hall and after that, Dad insisted on having it. And you know he usually gets what he wants. Don't you think he's wonderful, Kit?"

"Indeed he is, Bet. Your father has been so good to me that I'd be a very ungrateful girl if I didn't think he's the best ever."

There was a scratching at the door and Bet ran to open it. "Well here's old Smiley Jim, come to see Kit! Nice old Smiley!"

The dog came in with a bound, switching his bushy tail about and smiling up at his friends. Then after he had received their petting, he went as he always did, directly under the portrait of Lady Betty and, raising his head, barked three short, joyous barks.

"He always does that, Kit, always, just as if he knew her and had to greet her."

"I think it's the finest thing I've ever seen a dog do."

"I really believe he thinks she's alive, for he's done that ever since he was a tiny pup."

That afternoon Joy and Shirley came. "Hurry up and come back to school, it's frightfully lonely without you," exclaimed Shirley. "Half the life is gone from the class."

"For which the teachers consider themselves lucky."

"Maybe so," laughed Joy. "Oh dear, I've only been back for a few days and I've been in trouble twice."

"What did you do?" laughed Bet. "Tell me about it."

"It wasn't much. Miss Owens sent me to the board with half a dozen others and I was working the problem all right, but I forgot and began to twirl on my toes. Just a few innocent dance steps, you know it makes me think better."

"I was wondering how she ever kept still in school," said Kit, drawing the girl to her.

"She doesn't," whispered Bet. "Between Joy's dancing and my dreaming, those poor teachers have a time of it. We've been telling each other all summer, that we were going to turn over a new leaf."

"And I've broken all my resolutions already."

"We'll have to remember that we are the Merriweather Girls and have something to live up to. That's the trouble with having a club with ambitions and aims and all the rest of it. We have to make good." It was Shirley's quiet counsel.

"Lady Betty would never have danced in school, I'm sure of it!" Joy kissed her finger tips to the portrait.

Bet and Kit both glanced up at the smiling face on the wall and it almost seemed as if the lips twitched with amusement.

"I'm not so sure about that, Joy. Anyone with as much gaiety and spirit as she had must have gotten into plenty of trouble in school," laughed Bet.

"Then I'm sure she tried not to," smiled Shirley, trying to encourage Joy in her resolution. She was always unhappy when any of the girls got into trouble.

"Is Miss Elder as sweet as she was last year?" asked Bet.

"Oh, she's sweeter than ever," exclaimed Joy.

"And Edith?"

"Oh that girl is always with us, to keep us from enjoying life too much. Why don't they send her away to Boarding School or something? She has already gotten two people into trouble by tattling."

"That girl's a pest!" Bet frowned with indignation.

"Lady Betty Merriweather would have won her friendship and changed her whole character," said Kit, gazing into the smiling eyes.

Joy laughed. "You wait until you know Edith Whalen. Then you will see if there is anything that can change her character."

"I must say I feel a little discouraged myself," said Bet, shaking her head.



CHAPTER VIII

THE THORN IN THE FLESH

School had been in session for two weeks before Bet and Kit were allowed to go. Although Kit was a year and a half older than her friends, she was in the same grade. The little mountain school which she had attended in Arizona, had not been of the best. Her friendship for her chums made up to her for the fact that she was taller than any other girl in the class and for that reason had to bear many taunts from spiteful and thoughtless schoolmates. Kit became a favorite with most of the class, her quaint sayings amused them. But Edith Whalen took a violent dislike to her, as she was apt to do when she saw another girl made much of.

"Isn't she terribly crude!" exclaimed Edith with curled lips. "I don't see why she had to be in our class. I know mother wouldn't want me to associate with her."

"Bet Baxter seems to like her," said Vivian Long, who was always to be seen at Edith's heels.

"Well her taste isn't to be imitated. I think she's horrid."

"Why Edith Whalen, how can you say a thing like that? We all think Kit is so pretty and sweet. And she's very clever!" exclaimed Shirley Williams, coming to the defense of her chum.

"But who is she? The daughter of a cowboy or a miner! She's just common white trash!"

Bet was coming toward Edith, her eyes blazing. "Why Edith Whalen you are nothing but a horrid snob. I hate you!"

This was what Miss Elder heard as she came quietly into the class room.

"Bet!" Miss Elder's voice was stern. "I'll see you after school tonight. I'm surprised to hear you talk like that to anyone."

Bet was overcome with shame and anger. She went to her place at once and bent over her books, knowing that Edith was preening herself over her success in getting others into trouble. It seemed as if Edith could always do something mean and get away with it.

"And if I so much as,—well lose my temper a wee little bit like I did this morning—I get punished." Bet was receiving the sympathy of her chums at noon.

From a distance Bet heard Edith talking to a group of girls about her, "Miss Elder will make her apologize to me, and I hope it will be before the whole school. Bet thinks she can say anything, just because Colonel Baxter is rich and popular."

Bet had started toward the corner of the room where Edith was standing, but Shirley laid her hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, Bet," coaxed Shirley. "Don't listen to her. You'll only get into more trouble."

"I don't care, I'm going to tell her what I think of her."

"Aw forget it, Bet!" exclaimed Joy. "What's the matter with you today, anyway? Usually you can laugh at anything mean Edith has a mind to say to you."

"If it were about me, I could stand it. But I'll fight to the death for Kit!"

Luckily the bell rang at that moment and Bet was restrained from further quarreling.

Bet was not asked to make a public apology, as Edith had hoped. Miss Elder in her kindly way talked to the girl and made her see that to lose her temper and say unkind things was not living up to the best that was in her.

"And why did you get angry? What did Edith do?"

"Miss Elder, don't ask me to tell on her. I've never told on anyone in my life. I'll take all the punishment."

"I'm not going to punish you, Bet. I think by the looks of your unhappy face this afternoon that you have been punished enough."

"I always get sick when I get angry," said Bet shamefacedly.

"Then my advice to you is, don't get angry any more." Miss Elder had her arm about the girl and was half laughing at the serious face of the child. "Now run along home, Bet, and don't let me ever hear of you getting angry again. Promise!"

"Oh Miss Elder, I couldn't promise that. You know I get cross over the slightest thing. Dad says so! But I'll promise to try hard. Will that do? Besides I'll never be able to keep good natured when Edith is around."

"Dear girl, you must get over your habit of becoming so tense over unimportant matters. If you can't learn to like Edith, learn to be indifferent."

"I'll try ever so hard, Miss Elder but just now she's a thorn in my flesh, and oh, how she hurts!"

And Bet did try in the weeks that followed to be indifferent to Edith, but it seemed to her as if Edith went out of her way to say and do unkind things.

"It's no use," Bet often said to herself. "I'm as indifferent as I can be, but oh! how I despise that girl!"

Antagonism against Kit Patten grew daily in the heart of Edith Whalen. That Kit could come into Lynnwood and immediately get into the set that she would like to be in, was sufficient reason for Edith's enmity.

Kit was liked by all the girls and boys. Her ready smile, a knack of getting a quick and appropriate answer back when they tried to tease her, made her a popular girl. In the class club she was appointed on committees and soon was taking an active part in the organization. And what Kit did, she did well and her natural charm made new friends for her daily.

Then when Kit suddenly pushed ahead in her studies and became a leader, this seemed the spur that made Edith display her enmity toward the girl. For Edith was so self-centered that any charm she might have possessed was being smothered and her sly and treacherous ways, kept her acquaintances either indifferent to her or decidedly against her.

Kit seemed to have a natural talent for languages. From the first she excelled in Latin. Her translations were being held up as examples in class work and she was receiving praise from Miss Owens, the Latin teacher, and even from the principal.

"Oh Bet, think of me leading in anything! I don't know half as much as the rest of you girls!"

"Why shouldn't you lead? We know you're just as clever as you can be."

"No, it's not that, Bet. It's just because I have mastered one language besides my own. I've spoken Spanish ever since I can remember, first with the little Mexican children around the ranch, and later I learned it properly with a teacher who wanted to pick it up. And I think it makes it easier now in Latin."

"Which shows you're clever just the same," laughed Shirley. "Imagine being able to speak in Spanish and knowing some of the Indian dialects as well."

"Huh! I'd call that smart," exclaimed Joy. "I'll never be able to do anything in languages. Why can't they have dancing and give scholarships for that?"

"Never mind, Joy," soothed Bet. "Maybe they'll invent a way to study Latin on tiptoe, then you'll be at the head of the class."

"Those examinations next week give me heart trouble," shivered Joy. "I just hate exams!"

The dreaded quarterly examinations came, however. The Latin test was hard: most of the pupils sighed, bit their pencils and the ones who were unprepared, gave up in despair.

But Kit turned in a paper that afterwards proved to be almost perfect. Just at the close of the test when Miss Owens was picking up the test papers, she passed Kit's seat and saw a book protruding from her desk.

The order had been that all books were to be turned in and anyone found possessing a book would be given zero in the test.

Miss Owens stopped short. "Why Kit Patten!" she exclaimed in amazement. "Give me the book that you have in your desk!"

Kit started in surprise looking in her desk and handed the book to the teacher, her face white.

"Where did you get that book?" exclaimed Miss Owens. Raising the book above her head she announced to the class. "This book is a Latin Key. I'm surprised Kit Patten, that a girl like you could do such a thing."

Kit sprang to her feet. "Miss Owens, I never saw that book before." Her voice was clear and strong, no sign of guilt or embarrassment. "There must be some mistake."

"Come with me!" ordered Miss Owens, hastily picking up the rest of the test papers, and led the way to the office.

Miss Owens blurted out the story to Principal Sills. She was too outraged to be just to anyone at the moment and even the principal felt no inclination to be lenient.

"You know," said Mr. Sills, facing the girl, "that this is a serious thing you have done. It means only one thing, that is expulsion from the school. No pupil is allowed to have a key."

It was some time before Bet had a chance to state her case. Then she said quietly, "Mr. Sills, I have heard of key books but I have never seen one."

"Then how did the book get into your desk! Don't make matters worse by trying to lie out of it. Make a full confession and take the punishment. Since you are away from your parents, we will make an exception in your case and not expel you if you say you did it."

"Mr. Sills, I cannot make a confession of something that I never did. I tell you I never saw that book until Miss Owens took it from my desk."

"Let me see her test paper, Miss Owens. Then you may go back and dismiss your class, but come here again."

The principal took the test paper in his hand and commenced to go through it. He did not look surprised when he came across sentences that usually proved stumbling blocks to the pupils, to find them perfectly translated by Kit. He tapped the paper as if he were saying to himself, "I told you so!"

"Have you ever studied Latin before?" he asked her just as Miss Owens returned.

"No sir, this is my first year."

"Then I do not believe that you could have turned in such a good paper without help. It has never been done before and we do not expect anyone to answer more than half of the questions. Your mistakes are so slight that the paper may be counted perfect. That seems to me evidence enough of your guilt."

Kit did not answer for a moment, but her eyes were blazing. "You accuse me of copying without real proof! How dare you!"

The principal flushed. "Don't you think the fact that you had a key book in your desk during examination period is proof enough?"

"I know it looks bad, Mr. Sills, but it isn't proof. It can't be proof because I never saw the book before."

"Yet where the name is erased, it looks strangely like your initials."

Mr. Sills passed the book to Kit. The tracings of the first letter although dim, certainly looked like a "K."

"It doesn't make any difference. Even if my name was written in full on that page, I still tell you I never saw the book before."

And through all the questioning, Kit remained firm. Every moment Miss Owens became more excited and indignant against Kit. She felt that the good papers the girl had passed in daily, had been copied, and she disliked the idea of having had such a thing put over in the class.

Kit stood the grilling with patience for a long time, then suddenly she jumped to her feet:

"I have a right to have a friendly person to defend me," she exclaimed. "I want Miss Elder to come in!"

"We are both your friends," said Principal Sills.

Miss Owens' face flushed at the criticism. "And you know Kit, I have always been friendly."

"You are not being friendly now and you are not being just, that is certain. I need someone who will believe me in spite of this, and will help to straighten it out."

Miss Elder was sent for and came in, her eyes smouldering with sympathy for the girl. And right behind her came Bet. The three girls had gone to Miss Elder as soon as class was dismissed, Joy and Shirley in tears, but Bet, stamping up and down the room in a rage.

"Let me go to Mr. Sills!" she cried. "I'll tell him something. Why Kit wouldn't cheat. She just couldn't!"

"Now Bet, keep calm. If you want to help Kit, you must."

So when the call came from the office, Bet begged to be allowed to accompany Miss Elder.

Kit smiled when she saw Bet's troubled face. Stepping forward, she grasped the hand of her friend. "Don't you worry, Bet. I didn't do it and just as long as you and Miss Elder believe in me, I'll win out."

Mr. Sills handed the test paper to Miss Elder. "I have marked the few trifling errors on the margin. Do you think it possible that a girl who has studied Latin only a few months could write such a paper? Do either of you believe it?" he asked, looking toward Bet.

Bet was about to deliver a speech in defense of her friend, but Kit frowned and put her finger to her lips and Bet kept quiet.

Miss Elder spoke: "I have taken a particular interest in Kit Patten and I do not believe it possible that she would cheat in any way!"

Bet's eyes were shining: "Why not give her another chance? Keep her right here in the office and let her do another exam. Then you can watch her every second."

Mr. Sills went quietly toward a filing cabinet and selected an old examination paper. "Here is one that is almost as difficult. Sit over there and begin."

Miss Elder looked her sympathy. "Do you think it quite fair? After a hard day at the examinations and then all this emotional strain of the last hour, how can she do her best now?"

"Oh please, Miss Elder, don't stop me," cried Kit. "I feel sure I can do it. Yes, I can do it better than the other, for now I'm fighting for my very life."

"Dear old Kit! You show them!" said Bet with a smile of encouragement.

In a few moments Kit had a place at the long library table and was writing for all she was worth. Miss Owens and Mr. Sills never left the room while Kit's pen flew over the paper. Spurred on by the excitement, the girl never seemed to hesitate even for a word.

Miss Elder and Bet met the girls outside. "Oh I think Miss Owens is terrible!" exclaimed Joy.

"Why no, Joy. Miss Owens looks heart-broken. She is harder hit than any of us. She had taken such pride in Kit's work. Then to find the key in her desk! You know that's a terrible shock." Miss Elder tried to soothe the girls.

"But just the same she ought to know that Kit couldn't do it," protested Shirley.

"Whose book is it, anyway? Who put it in Kit's desk?" asked Joy.

"No one seems to know or if they do, they won't tell," said Bet. "But it's up to the Merriweather Girls to find out."

"Let's go into the club meeting, we almost forgot it!" Shirley led the way.

The three girls arrived just in time to hear a discussion regarding Kit Patten's behavior. Vivian Long, Edith Whalen's friend, was talking.

"I think after such a disgraceful thing, Kit Patten should be asked to resign from the club."

"Don't you think she should be allowed to defend herself?" asked Shirley, not waiting to be seated.

At a nudge from Edith, Vivian was again on her feet. "If we are to keep up the standards of our class club, we should not overlook this for a minute. The book was found in Kit's desk and that is enough."

Bet somehow got to the middle of the room, her face red and her hair tousled.

She frowned on Vivian, and the girl dropped to her seat without another word.

"That must not be put to a motion. Nothing has been proved and I do not believe Kit did anything wrong. Mr. Sills is giving her a new test now and I'm sure she'll prove that she didn't get any help anywhere."

"But if a girl had such a book in her possession! You don't want us to let a thing like that go by without notice. The club is for questions of this kind."

Bet's quick glance seemed to take in everything. She knew just the attitude that each girl was taking. Some were against Kit, and others were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Bet caught a look of triumph on Edith's face and in a burst of temper exclaimed: "Someone planted that book there to get Kit into trouble. I have my suspicions as to who did it."

"Then you had better speak out," exclaimed Vivian Long after a nudge from Edith.

"I will accuse no one—that is at present," answered Bet.

"You are accusing someone, and unless you give names, you have no right to make that statement. Now you are accusing everyone about us, after what you just said." It was Edith's sneering voice.

"Then Edith, for the present I apologize." She looked the girl straight in the eyes. "But you will hear from me later.—And what's more, if I am mistaken about it and have made this accusation falsely, then I'll send in my resignation as well."

Even Joy and Shirley had to laugh at Bet's apology. One minute she took back her accusation and the next made it stronger than ever.

The result of Kit's test in the office was even better than the other one had been. Mr. Sills put out his hand and said, "At least you have proven that you did not need a key to do your work." He hesitated a second: "But we will have to find out who put the book there before you are entirely free from suspicion with the class."

Miss Owens threw her arms about the girl. "Forgive me for doubting you for a moment. I know you didn't do it."

And when Kit heard of the loyalty of her chums in the club she was happy. "But you shouldn't have done it, Bet, you'll only get yourself in bad."

"Right-O!" cried Joy. "If you're in bad, Kit, then all the Merriweather Girls are in bad. We stick together."

"In sunshine and storm! Isn't that right, Shirley!" exclaimed Bet impulsively.

Shirley answered by putting her arm around Kit.

And when Bob and Phil heard of the trouble they were indignant. "There's only one girl in that class mean enough to do it," said Bob. "I wonder if she would!"

"I'm not only wondering, but I'm going to find out!" snapped Bet vindictively.

"We're on her trail!" laughed Joy.

"And remember if there is anything we can do, let us know. We believe in Kit!" declared Phil.

The next morning Miss Owens made a point of meeting Kit outside the door and bringing her into the room. After the class had assembled, Miss Owens said simply: "I want you all to know that Kit Patten has proved to me and to Mr. Sills that she did not use a key in her examinations. Just how the book got into her desk, we do not know, but we are making every effort to find out."

"The idea!" whispered Edith Whalen to the girl ahead of her. "How beautifully they shield her!"

"They would!" agreed Vivian Long. "It does seem as if Bet Baxter and her crowd can do anything they like."

"I never did believe Kit did it," said little Annie Randall, a meek timid child who rarely took a stand in anything.

"What do you know about it?" asked Edith contemptuously. And Annie Randall was subdued.

Although most of the class received Kit back with kindly thoughts, still the girl felt the humiliation of being doubted by others. Rather pointed jokes were flung out in her hearing occasionally. Kit was even-tempered and therefore able to endure it, but to Bet it was like a lighted match to tinder. Sparks flew and sputtered while Bet told the annoyers that Kit was worth a dozen of them, which only urged them on to further annoyance.

But Bet's heart ached for Kit, who felt these slights more than she would own. In the club, although someone would propose her name for committee work, there was always a protest, until Kit begged her friends to cease their efforts, for it only embarrassed her and kept the subject before the class all the time.

"If we could only find the one who did it!" It was on Bet's mind continually and finally she went to Principal Sills and talked the matter over with him. What she suggested was a trap to catch the one who had played such a mean trick on her friend.

"Whoever owns that book wants it back worst way or she would never have bought it. If we put it on Miss Owens' desk, sooner or later the guilty one will try to get it. No one else will want to touch it."

Mr. Sills was rather skeptical about the success of the plan.

"We can try it, anyway. I'm always here until after the school is locked at night."

Miss Owens was taken into the secret between Mr. Sills and Bet, but no one else was told about it.

"I can't even tell you Merriweather Girls," confided Bet. "But I'm sure I'll be able to tell the whole story before long, and you'll all be glad."

And the girls feeling sure that it had something to do with Kit's trouble, did not urge her to confide in them.

Bet, in a quiet way, saw to it that everyone in the class knew that the key book was on Miss Owens' desk.

And her three chums found Bet a very unsatisfactory companion for the next few days. Every night after school she excused herself by saying that she had to see Mr. Sills. If they could have seen her hiding away in one of the lower grade rooms where she could see the only unlocked door of the building they would have wondered what she was up to.

On the third afternoon she was rewarded. Just as she was about to give up and go home, she saw a figure dart around the building and come in the door.

It was Edith Whalen.

Bet wanted to go herself and confront the girl, but thought better of it and kept to the plan she and Mr. Sills had made. She ran to the office and called the principal.

Edith had tiptoed into the classroom, selected the book she wanted and turned to go. At the door she met Mr. Sills.

"I would like to see you in the office, Edith," he said quietly.

Edith clutched the book and quickly hid it under her coat, wishing she could find a place to drop it when Mr. Sills was not looking. But there was no chance to get rid of it.

When they reached the office, the principal said quietly, "Edith, give me the book you have there."

The girl hesitated. He extended his hand.

"It's the Latin key from Miss Owens' desk. I want it." Then as Edith hesitated still, he demanded: "Pass it over at once."

"Now sit down here and tell me the whole story. Why did you put that book in Kit Patten's desk?"

Edith started to deny that she had done so, then decided to be perfectly silent.

Finally after an hour, during which time the principal made threats of expulsion, the girl finally broke down and confessed.

In the meantime Bet had gone to the phone and called Miss Owens and Kit, according to the understanding with Mr. Sills.

It was Kit who begged for Edith. "Don't expel her, Mr. Sills. I'm sure she won't do such a thing again." Kit even objected to a class apology for the girl but Mr. Sills was firm in this.

And when school opened the next day Edith had to face the class and say that she had put the book into Kit's desk in order to get her into trouble.

Kit was thankful that the suspicion against her was gone, but she pitied Edith.

"I don't understand her!" exclaimed the girl to her friends later. "I'm anxious to be friends and she won't let me."

Several days later when she met Edith face to face in the dressing room, Edith exclaimed: "Get out of my sight, I hate you!"



CHAPTER IX

SHIRLEY'S SHOP

Although Kit made every effort to be friendly with Edith Whalen, she had to acknowledge herself beaten. As Merriweather Girls, the four chums felt that they should be able to win her, but Edith refused to notice any advances made by the girls and while she was not aggressively unpleasant, they felt her smoldering dislike.

"We'll just have to give up and let her alone," advised Bet. "If we appear too anxious, she may break out again and do something else. One can never be sure of Edith."

"It does seem a shame," sighed Kit. "I'd truly love to be friends in spite of what she did. I want everybody to like me."

"And she probably would have liked you, too, if you hadn't been a friend of mine. She has always disliked me."

"Well girls, let us console ourselves with some of Auntie Gibbs' fudge. She just made it on purpose for us," cried Joy, dancing into the big entrance hall where Shirley, Bet and Kit were curled up on the divan. Shirley had brought a box of prints that she had promised to show Kit, and today was a rainy Saturday afternoon and just the time to do it.

The Merriweather Girls were having their weekly meeting at the Manor.

A little later Colonel Baxter joined them and demanded the right to be included in the club.

"Here you are having a good time, and I'm out of it."

"But Dad, you can't be a Merriweather Girl, you know that."

"Well I might be Legal Advisor or something of the sort. Give me a fancy title and I'll be happy."

"All right," exclaimed Kit, clapping her hands. "Legal Advisor it is, and we'll ask your advice right this minute on a very important problem. How do you make people like you? Turn hatred into love or something like that?"

"One way is to shut your eyes to the hatred, forget it's there and everything will come out all right in the end."

"And that's that," said Bet. "Dad knows."

"All right Shirley, he's given us his first valuable legal advice. Now he might be permitted to have some fudge and also look at your snapshots. He's getting impatient," pleaded Kit, as she and Bet wandered away into the drawing room and Joy danced out to the kitchen for more fudge.

The Colonel was always interested in the progress Shirley was making in photography. She seemed to have a decided talent for taking pictures. Every print was looked at carefully and praised and sometimes criticized by the Colonel as they talked of the methods of taking, the style of finish and all the other details of the work.

"Some of these days you'll be having a gallery of your own and hanging out your sign." The Colonel smiled and patted the little hand of Shirley. His daughter's chums were very dear to him.

"I'm afraid I'm not clever enough for that. There is a lot to learn about taking pictures. I've always been glad I had some training with Mr. Colby before he retired. You know I just love photography, I could take pictures from morning till night and never be tired."

"What's that one in the envelope over there? You didn't show me that one."

Shirley flushed. "Well that's an experiment. I had the nerve to try an art print. I wanted to see what I could do."

Colonel Baxter gave a low whistle when Shirley held up the print. "Now you have done something, Miss Fixit. That's very good." He held it at arm's length. "I should say it's very good! And these others are fine, too."

"Now you're teasing me. I know you are."

"No of course I'm not teasing. They're lovely. I don't know which I like best, the gulls, or the Palisades and that tree with the river in the background. They are all very pretty."

Shirley had taken six different views and the Colonel now advised her to make some prints of each and he would send them to an art shop in New York where he was acquainted. "We'll fix them up in a narrow gilt frame and they'll make a very nice gift."

"Oh, do you really think so? Why I'll be so proud just to have them exhibited I'll pretty nearly blow up even if I don't sell any at all."

"I've an idea, Shirley. You are always anxious to earn money and do things, why don't you start a shop of your own?"

"You're funny, Colonel Baxter. How would I start a shop? Bet, come here and listen to your father."

"What's he planning now, Shirley," exclaimed Bet as she threw her arm around her father's neck. "Don't oppose my Dad in anything he wants to do. I found that out years and years ago when I was young. Whatever he says, do it."

"But this is impossible!"

"Not if Dad says it's possible," she laughed. "Oh Dad, you are a most wonderful man!"

"And you are a most wonderful daughter, Bet!"

"And here comes old Smiley Jim for his share," exclaimed Bet patting the dog's head. "Yes Smiley Jim, you are a most wonderful dog!"

"It's a wonderful family!" announced Joy with a dance.

"And if no one else believes it, we do!" said the Colonel. "But come now Merriweather Girls, call a council or a pow-wow or what ever you call it! Blow your horn and get the clan together."

"Toot—toot—t-o-o-o-o-o-t!" Joy blew on an imaginary bugle and at that moment Kit came into the room from the kitchen where she had gone to ask Auntie Gibbs a question.

"Auntie Gibbs says——" Kit started to tell something.

But Bet interrupted: "We don't want to hear what Auntie Gibbs says. The Merriweather Girls are in council. Grave matters are about to be discussed. The Legal Advisor is present and all members are called for an immediate consultation."

Kit dropped into a chair laughing. "Proceed!" she announced.

"The Legal Advisor has the chair!" laughed Shirley.

"The question under consideration," began the Colonel, "is one of very great importance. It is that Shirley Williams should open an art and photographic shop right here in Lynnwood!"

"Whoopee!" shouted Kit, swinging her arm around her head as if she were waving a sombrero.

"Why of course," said Bet. "I'm surprised that we didn't think of that ourselves. I move that the shop be opened at once, immediately! Where is it to be?"

"Well I was thinking," said the Colonel.

"But listen. To run a shop a person must have money and must know how to sell things and I don't know how or anything." The prospect was alluring to Shirley, but the difficulties seemed too great.

"She has to go to school," Joy reminded them.

"You leave it to Dad. He's thinking of something, I can see that."'

"Yes, I have a plan and we will want to talk it over with Shirley's mother before we do anything. Now if you girls will keep quiet, I'll tell you my plan."

"Do let us hear it," cried Joy.

"Hurry, Dad, we can't wait! Please don't be so slow, say it right this minute!"

"Suppose you keep quiet long enough for your father to say a word," suggested Kit. "Let the poor man have a chance!"

"What I was trying to say is that I have that little corner store next to old Peter Gruff's place. Supposing I give that to Shirley for a year and let her open a Saturday Shop; that means that it would only be open on Saturdays."

"Dad, you're a wonder! I'm proud of you!"

Colonel Baxter shook his head at his daughter.

"No interruptions!" Then he continued: "With the Christmas season ahead, I'm sure that Shirley could sell plenty of these art prints alone to make it worth while. I'll get her the frames in New York at a wholesale place where I've dealt for years."

"But Colonel, I haven't any money to start things."

Again the man put up his hand for silence. "Now I believe this is going to be a good business proposition for anyone who goes into it, so I am going to back you. It will not take much money. For furnishings for the shop I would refer you to our attic. Auntie Gibbs hates to throw anything away, or give it away for that matter, and you will find chairs and tables and that sort of thing. You girls can decorate the place to suit yourselves. Now what do you think about it? Don't all speak at once."

For a moment no one spoke. The prospect that spread out before them, leading them on into future joys, left the girls quite overcome. Even the lighthearted Joy, who usually had a song or dance for every occasion, was silent and thoughtful.

"It's too good to be true!" laughed Kit. "I can see all sorts of wonderful adventures in Shirley's Shop." Kit's eyes were sparkling as she thought of all the fun ahead.

"And that's a good name for it," cried Bet. "We'll paint a sign for the window:

'SHIRLEY'S SHOP MARVELOUS PICTURES AT A BIG PRICE.'"

"Oh no, Bet, that won't do! That would frighten people away," exclaimed Shirley.

"Well, we'd get rid of the people who want a picture for two cents, anyway."

The Colonel laughed heartily at his young friends. "Miss Fixit has the right idea. You're developing a real business head already."

"Couldn't we go down and look at the shop this afternoon so we could make plans and have something to dream about next week?"

"I think we might. Let's stop in and see if Mrs. Williams won't come with us. We'll need her advice on lots of things." And thus did Colonel Baxter enlist the co-operation of Shirley's mother.

"The possibilities of this place are simply uncountable," cried Bet enthusiastically.

"And say, Shirley, any time you want a little exhibition dancing for your afternoon callers, I'm at your service," and Joy Evans made a few fancy spins on the tips of her toes, in the center of the room.

"Not a bad idea! Keep that in the back of your heads," advised the Colonel. "In fact, never throw an idea away. Keep it in storage where you can bring it out if needed."

The store contained two rooms. The large one in the rear started a plan in Shirley's head. "Wouldn't this make a dandy place for a photographic studio. And here is a lovely big closet which will be a good dark room. And there is running water in that corner. Why everything is complete."

"It's just made to order, Shirley," exclaimed Kit. "Really you are a lucky girl!"

"There you are, young lady! Appointments made every Saturday morning!"

"The first thing to do is to decide on the color scheme for the shop," said Mrs. Williams who was noted as a good manager.

"Let's have plenty of orange. Gold always means success, doesn't it?"

"Maybe so," laughed the woman, enjoying the enthusiasm of the girls. The years seemed to slip away when Shirley brought her friends near.

A large bay window covered almost all the front of the store.

"That's a good show window you have there," observed Colonel Baxter. "Already I can see Shirley's photographs on display?"

"And those blue and gold drapes in the attic will just be fine for a back curtain," suggested Bet.

"That is, if they are not dropping apart from age," replied the Colonel.

"They'll probably do us for a while until we make our fortune."

"Our fortune! Since when do you own the shop, Bet Baxter?" teased Joy. "Is this Shirley and company?"

"Of course not. It's Shirley's. But we're all going to help her to get started," promised Bet.

"What is Shirley's good luck is ours. We're all Merriweather Girls," said Kit quietly.

Shirley was in a happy daze and hardly heard her mother's plans. "You can bring down that large blue rug in your room, Shirley, and I'll put something else in there."

"That's just the thing, it has lots of orange in it," exclaimed Bet.

"And as a name for the shop, I'll suggest 'Fixit's Factory,'" teased Colonel Baxter.

"Oh no! That wouldn't sound nice. I don't like factories." Shirley looked troubled.

"Of course it wouldn't and Daddy knows it, too. He's just a big tease!"

Shirley laughed now with the others. She was inclined to be serious and never quite knew when the Colonel was in fun.

"'Shirley's Shop' sounds much nicer. It's aristocratic!"

Suddenly Kit saw two boys coming down the street and she had the door open in a flash: "Come right in, Bob and Phil. The Merriweather Girls are in council and having decided some very important matters, they want your approval."

"Flattery, you mean! You girls just feed on flattery, and you expect us to supply it like boxes of candy."

"Candy makes me think that we might have homemade candy here. Joy could do that and Kit and I will paint some boxes for it! That's the first idea supplied by the Consulting Advisers, Bob and Phil!"

"And where does the boss come in, and what is left for her to do?" laughed Shirley.

"Oh you are to supply the art. We will do the things that appeal to the common people."

"Say, Colonel, what's the matter with these girls? Are they crazy?"

"Not any more than usual I think."

"Why Daddy Baxter, if you talk like that you just won't be allowed to take part in our plans at all. We'll discharge you as Legal Adviser."

"Oh then I'll be good! I'll be good! I could never stand that."

"So it's secrets and things!" suggested Phil.

"Just the opposite of that! It's something we want you to shout from the house tops."

Bob gave a bound to the seat of an old chair and flapping his arms up and down wildly he crowed, "Cock-a-doodle-doo! Don't know what I'm crowing about, but I'm crowing!"

"And that's what we want you to do. The Merriweather Girls are starting in business!" announced Kit.

"You don't say so!"

"It's to be known as Shirley's Shop!" Kit exclaimed.

"Oh you mean Shirley is going into business. That sounds more sane. Shirley has some sense," laughed Bob.

"Out you go, Bob Evans!" and without giving him time to catch his breath the girls shoved him outside the door.

"When you promise to be good, you may come back, Bob, and not until," threatened Joy.

Finally after many promises to be good, they opened the door and let Bob come in. The boys got a somewhat jumbled account of the business venture of the Merriweather Girls and they approved to such an extent that they rolled up their sleeves and wanted to get to work at once.

"Where's a broom and we'll sweep the place out for you," suggested Phil.

Shirley objected, saying that the following Saturday morning would be time enough, then if they wanted to, the girls would be glad of their help.

"And they'll want flattery before they start the work and flattery after it's done just the way Smiley Jim does," said Kit with a laugh.

"Why Kit Patten!" exclaimed Bob. "And we thought you were our friend!"

"Meow, meow! What a kitten to scratch!" teased Phil.

"Deny it, if you can," said Bet.

Colonel Baxter looked from one young face to the other, enjoying the friendly bickering and feeling happy that he was no dampener to their fun, for they accepted him as one of themselves. Mrs. Williams' hearty laugh urged them on to further efforts at cleverness.

"Wish we had a broom, I'd really like to see this place swept out!" Bet was impatient to see results.

"Why not go over and borrow one from your neighbor, Peter Gruff? He's so friendly he'll give you the shop."

As old Peter Gruff was notoriously stingy, everybody laughed at the joke.

"We'll do better than that," exclaimed Bet. "Come on Kit, let's go over and buy a broom. We'll need it!"

In a few minutes Bet and Kit came running back, each with a large broom.

"And here's where we are supposed to shine!" laughed Phil, as each captured a broom and started right in where they were standing.

"Not that way!" shouted Kit, for a cloud of dust rose about their heads.

"This way!" suggested Shirley and the boys stopped and paid attention to her, as they usually did. "Stand on those old chairs and sweep off the ceilings and walls and in that show window while the brooms are nice and clean; then you can do the floors."

"That tan shade of the walls isn't bad at all. I think we can make that do, don't you, Shirley?" asked Bet.

"Yes. We don't want to do any more than we have to," Shirley answered.

"I don't like those high walls," pouted Bet.

"We'll have them lowered," teased Bob.

"If I may be allowed to suggest, Miss Fixit," said Colonel Baxter, addressing Shirley with great ceremony, "I would say that a band of contrasting color could be painted around the walls just about at the height of your head. That will give the effect of a lower ceiling at once."

"Oh yes, Dad, the way you had it done in your den! And that room always looks so cozy."

"After a while when the shop begins to pay, you could buy burlap and run that around under your border. That would make a backing for displaying your pictures."

Everybody liked that idea.

The girls felt at home in Shirley's Shop even before it was cleaned up. And they closed it reluctantly until Friday afternoon when they were to meet and clean the windows and wood work.

It was hard for the girls to keep their minds on their school work during the next week. Visions of the shop, as it was to look some day, filled their thoughts to the exclusion of history dates and right angle triangles.

Shirley had to be industrious. After her home work was finished she donned her old smock and made her art prints, enough for the gift shop in New York and for her own place as well.

Her mother remonstrated at the late hours, but Shirley said, "Oh Mother, it won't be this way often. And I do want to get started soon."

"It may develop into something worth while," said her mother. "Who knows but this may be the open door that leads to college?"

"Oh, if only it is! How I wish it! I'll be willing to work hard if only I can help you and Dad, and get a good education at the same time."

"The future can always be bright with our hopes and plans for success," replied the mother as she clasped Shirley's hand understandingly.



CHAPTER X

WILLING HELPERS

"Thump, thump, thump!" a thunderous rap at the door of Shirley's shop brought the four girls on the run from the back room, where they had been doing the last of the window cleaning.

"It's Bob and Phil! Good for them!" shouted Bet. "Let them in, you're nearest, Kit!"

The two boys entered the doorway in a very supplicating manner, their hats held humbly in their hands.

"We want work, ladies! Can we get something to eat?" begged Bob without a smile.

"You would, Bob Evans! Thinking of food the first thing!" scolded Joy.

"Been out of a job for two months," added Phil.

"Then I suppose you want something to eat, too?"

"Yes ma'am, I'd like nothing better than a handout."

"You'll earn it first, you lazy things," exclaimed Kit.

"Always taking the joy out of life, isn't she?" Bob pretended to be sad.

"Now what do you boys want to do?" Bet was in her snappiest form, business-like and full of energy. "You can paint that strip around the wall where we've marked it, or you can paint the window, or you can paint chairs or tables. Now just take your choice of work, I don't care what you do, as long as you paint."

"But I wanted to do basketry or clay figures," teased Bob. "Didn't you, Phil?"

"No indeed. I wanted to paint. I'm a noble soul. I'm just dying to paint, in fact I must paint!"

"Then get to work!" cried Kit. "And don't waste so much time! This is our busy day. No parking here!"

"Slave drivers! No hand-out, and not a minute to collect our thoughts!"

"You don't need to worry, Bob, it won't take you that long to collect your thoughts! One second will be enough," retorted Joy.

"And we don't get anything to eat?" asked Phil.

But while the merry nonsense went on the two boys were preparing the paint and getting ready to work. Phil took a step ladder and began on the outside of the store, painting the frame of the window in bright orange.

"There now that stands out, all right," he exclaimed as he finished the job. "You can see that a mile off."

Bob finished the frame on the inside, about the same time and together they started on the broad strip that was marked off around the walls.

"Say lady, it's eleven o'clock. Can't we have that hand-out?" cried Bob Evans.

"Not yet. Why you've only been working an hour!" exclaimed Bet indignantly. "Who ever heard of such a thing!"

"Let's strike!" Phil dropped his paint brush and settled himself in an easy chair. "No hand-out, no more work!"

"That's right!" agreed Bob, capturing another chair.

"Oh you terrible boys! We might as well do it ourselves if we've got to stop every hour and feed you. There's nothing ready yet anyway." Bet frowned on her friends.

But just at that moment Uncle Nat appeared with two very large hampers and Bob and Phil each secured a basket.

"Now who's to say when?" laughed Bob. "Who's boss now, answer me that?"

"We are in the power of two tyrants who won't work!" said Kit dramatically.

"Take that back, Kit Patten, or you'll not get a bite of lunch. Say you're sorry!" teased Phil.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll take it back!" laughed Kit.

"I'll tell you what, boys." It was Shirley's voice from the rear room, where she was cleaning out the big closet for a dark room. "We do want that strip painted before lunch. It won't take you more than ten minutes. While we are fixing up this table and unpacking the baskets, you finish that."

"Right-O, Shirley!" The boys were on their feet instantly and they went to work without another word.

"Oh girls, doesn't it look perfectly wonderful!" exclaimed Bet, coming into the room just as the two boys laid aside their brushes. "Now you shall eat!"

"A crust of bread and a glass of water, I suppose!"

"You suppose nothing of the sort. You know Auntie Gibbs put it up and therefore it has to be good!" exclaimed Kit. "But you boys won't get a bite to eat until you've washed your faces."

"Now we rebel! This is the limit. The worm turns at last. We're going to eat this way." And they did.

Auntie Gibbs had outdone herself on the lunch. There was fried chicken and apple fritters, still piping hot. There was jelly and hot biscuits. The table was loaded.

"Here Kit, open up that box of marshmallows. And put one in each cup of cocoa."

"One! Why you stingy thing. I'll not drink it unless I have three!" exclaimed Bob.

"All right, give the child what he wants!" Bet agreed.

"Auntie Gibbs must have thought we were going to feed all of Lynnwood. Sending down a lunch this size!" laughed Shirley.

"But that's so much better than not having enough. Wait until we've finished it, there won't be much left. I know what kind of an appetite I have, and when Bob gets to work he'll eat about half of what's here."

"Aren't you going to wash that orange streak off your face, Phil?" asked Bet.

"No. It's a beauty mark."

While the young people were making merry over their lunch, the door of the shop opened and shuffling feet were heard outside in the front room.

Bet jumped up excitedly, "Maybe it's a customer! Oh girls!"

"Oh, I hope it isn't!" exclaimed Shirley. "We haven't got anything for sale yet."

"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Gruff," Bet's voice was heard from the back room. "You are our first visitor."

"What you doing here?" Peter asked abruptly.

"Listen to the old grouch," whispered Joy to Shirley. "One would think he owned this store."

"Ssh! Keep quiet, Joy. Let's hear what he's saying."

Bet answered the old man in her sweetest manner. "We're opening an art shop. We'll be your next door neighbor, Mr. Gruff."

"What are you going to sell? Antiques?"

"Not just at present. Perhaps later we may," answered Bet.

"Don't do it. There's no money in antiques! Not a penny. Of course if you want them, I'll be able to get them for you. I go to all the auctions. I went away out to Connecticut the other day to get some old lamps."

"And did you get them? What were they like?" questioned Bet.

"I didn't get them. They went too high. That's the reason I say there's no money in antiques. It used to be one could pick up things for almost nothing."

"Yes people learned to value their old things."

"Are you Colonel Baxter's girl? I thought so! Now there's a man who knows antiques. Can't get ahead of him on a buy. He knows just what a thing should sell for and half the time he can tell me to a penny what I paid for it."

Bet laughed heartily at this, for she remembered her father telling her how old Peter had tried to sell him some candlesticks at an exorbitant price.

"Seein' as it's you, Colonel Baxter," he had said, "You can have this pair of candlesticks for fifteen dollars."

"Too much, Mr. Gruff," the Colonel answered emphatically.

"Ten dollars then, Colonel Baxter. I won't be making a penny on them, not one."

"No, Peter, I'll be going to an auction myself soon, and I can pick up candlesticks anytime."

"Now Colonel Baxter, bein' as it's you, I don't mind losing a little money on those sticks. Ain't they beauties now? You can have the pair of them for seven dollars. Will you take them with you or shall I send them up to the Manor?"

"That's too much, Peter. You know you got those candlesticks thrown in when you bought that highboy and the gate-leg table."

Peter Gruff had been so thunderstruck at the Colonel's correct guess that he had stood open-mouthed, staring, and without a word he had placed the candlesticks on the shelf and began rubbing his hands together in great agitation.

The old furniture dealer was tricky, and Bet wondered now what he was prying around the shop for.

"You won't need that back room, will you? Maybe you'll let me store some things here." He started toward the rear.

"Oh, we are going to use all the rooms. Shirley Williams is going to have a photographic shop in the back room. Maybe you'll want your picture taken when we open for business."

The old man started and a look of fear came into his eyes. "What would I want a picture for?" he snarled, watching Bet anxiously, for the last time that Peter Gruff had been photographed was by the police, and that episode he wished forgotten.

"Come in and have a cup of cocoa with us, Mr. Gruff," invited Shirley.

"Oh yes," insisted Bet. "Here take this chair!" The girls had led him into the back room, where the young people greeted the old man joyously.

He took the proffered cup, accepted sandwiches and a good helping of chicken and didn't stop until he had eaten greedily all that was passed him, smacking his lips at each bite.

Joy and Kit got to laughing at the shocking table manners of the old man and had to leave the room.

When he was finally satisfied he began, "Don't think of handling antiques. No money in them. Once upon a time," the old man started again, "one could buy a wagon load of them for a dollar and sell maybe one old chair for fifty dollars. Then it was worth while to handle antiques. Why many a time I've started out with my wagon full of pots and pans and dishes, and exchanged a new platter that cost me twenty-five cents for a dish that I finally sold for twenty-five dollars."

No one spoke for a moment. They felt shocked at the old man's method of working. But he did not notice and went on.

"All the old farmers' wives wanted things up to date and so they just gave away the old things that had been in the family for a hundred years and got some shiny new stuff."

Joy and Kit interrupted the conversation by exclaiming: "Oh Bet I think that paint is dry enough so we can put the covering in the show window. Come and see!"

And old Peter Gruff rose with the others, after helping himself to three more sandwiches which he put in his pocket.

Bet and Shirley decided to frame some of the prints in the narrow gilt frames that Colonel Baxter had purchased for them. And in a few minutes they had them in the window.

"Let's go outside and see what it looks like!" exclaimed Bet excitedly.

The girls walked up and down in front of the store.

"Let's pretend we're just walking by on our way down town. Would it attract your eye?" asked Shirley, seriously.

"Not exactly attract," laughed Bet. "I should say it hits the eye. You can't pass up that orange window."

The girls placed their window display very carefully, putting only a few prints in so that they would show up.

"What we should have is a pretty vase or a vanity box or something of that sort to put in with these prints."

It looked to the girls as if old Peter had come to stay. As Shirley was going through her prints, he noticed the picture of the queen's fan and became quite excited. "That's an antique, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, it is a fan that belongs to my father," answered Bet, annoyed at the old man for interrupting their work.

"Let's see the fan," he begged, as if the girls had refused.

"We haven't got it here; it belongs to Colonel Baxter," Shirley answered.

But the old man didn't seem to believe them, for he poked his way into every corner of the shop, and in the dark-room he made a careful search, much to the amusement of the girls.

Then he sat down near Shirley and Bet as they framed more art prints.

"Now what's them for?" he asked. "Them pictures of birds?"

"Oh we expect to sell them to someone. Don't you think they're pretty?"

"Maybe," said old Pete. "That is somebody might like them. It's funny what people will buy."

But Peter Gruff was restless. He had hoped to find the fan and as he saw another print he picked it up and studied it carefully.

"Where did Colonel Baxter get the fan?" he asked.

"I don't know," answered Bet. "He has it, that's all I know."

Old Peter arose and once more started in a search of the rooms, unwilling to believe that the fan was not hidden in the shop. Wherever the girls wanted to work they stumbled into him.

At last Kit had an idea. "See this lovely picture, Mr. Gruff. It's only five dollars. Don't you think you'd like to buy it?"

The old man stammered, "No, no!" but Kit interrupted:

"And even if you don't want it for yourself, it would make a splendid Christmas present for some of your friends."

"Pay five dollars for a picture! Why there ain't a soul in the world that I care five dollars for!"

Peter Gruff left in a hurry. "Five dollars for one little picture!" he muttered to himself. "And such a skimpy frame. Why it's not worth fifty cents. Such prices! Such robbery!" The old man disappeared into the depths of his musty shop muttering:

"Just because I went in to see what they were up to and ate a little morsel of their lunch, they thought I was going to buy one of their pictures for five dollars! —And me with my shop full of the finest colored pictures, handpainted too!" And in his excitement he actually dusted off the top of a table.

"That was a mean trick, Kit Patten, to scare the poor fellow like that. How would you like it?" exclaimed Bob Evans with a serious face.

"Well I tried to be polite at first. I told him it was our busy day and he didn't pay any attention. And he wouldn't move: just kept on talking."

"You've broken his heart," exclaimed Phil dramatically. "His head is bowed with grief."

"And it ought to be!" stormed Kit, her eyes snapping, her cheeks scarlet. "He's wasted a full hour of my time."

The boys shouted with laughter. It was not often that they could succeed in getting Kit nettled. She was so even-tempered that they had almost given up teasing her. Bet, on the contrary was an easy prey, for her temper flared up at a second's notice.

But just now she was cool and composed: "Oh come on, Kit don't be silly. There's enough to do, goodness knows, without you staging a temper fit."

"Guess you're right, Bet. I'll be good." Kit was all smiles in a minute as she grabbed a dust mop to give the floor another cleaning before the rug was put down.

"I'm tired out completely!" Bob cried suddenly and dropped into the nearest chair.

"Bob Evans," screamed Joy. "There you've gone and ruined my chair. And it took me a good hour to paint it!"

Bob jumped to his feet, "Oh I'm so sorry, Sis. I didn't see it!"

But even the provoked Joy could not keep from laughing as Bob turned around. His trousers were streaked with paint.

"Oh turn around, Bob! Let's see you. You look like a winter sunset!" shouted Phil.

"Let us have those pants to frame," Bet laughed.

"And say Bob, you could go outside and strut up and down the sidewalk and be a walking advertisement for Shirley's Shop."

"Now you've broken my heart, too!" moaned Bob.

"Then take my advice and go over and weep on Peter's shoulder, and I, for one, won't miss you. Making me do all that work over again!"

"Here boys, get to work, you're only getting into mischief by standing around. Help me with this rug, it isn't straight." And the boys jumped to attention at Bet's order and arranged the rug to suit her.

"There now, isn't that cozy?" exclaimed Kit. And they all stood back and admired the work that had transformed the old store into a cozy room.

"I think it's just lovely," said Bet, with a sigh of happiness.



CHAPTER XI

THE FIRST CUSTOMER

Joy hadn't quite recovered from her disappointment over her spoiled chair. She was working away with a frown as she repaired the damage. At a suggestion from Bob that she finish the job she had started on him, Joy gave a dab with her brush and left a long streak across his cheek.

"Now go away and leave me alone, Bob Evans."

"Get to work! Get to work!" shouted Bet. "Here help me with this table, Phil."

They lifted the heavy library table that the Colonel had given them from one corner of the room to the other. At the fifth move, Bet was satisfied but that brought it back to exactly the spot where she had started.

"Why don't you two go into the moving business? Bet has a talent in that direction," teased Bob.

"Now I'm just too happy today to get angry at you for anything, Bob, so you might as well give up. I'm having the time of my life!"

And Bet looked happy as she arranged the large easy chairs about the room, while Shirley got out the portfolios of prints for the table.

"There now, the work's all done, isn't it?" asked Phil.

"Why the idea!" laughed Bet. "There are millions of things to do yet."

"It will take weeks to have things the way we want it," agreed Kit.

The girls now got out needles and some orange silk and started on the fancy shade for the lights. A floor lamp was to give the main lighting for the room and a number of wall brackets would add to the artistic effect.

"It's kind of you to say that there is nothing else we can do," laughed Phil with a deep bow.

"And thanks for the eats. Ask us to come to your next party, that is if there is no work to do."

"Why you lazy things! There'll always be work at Shirley's Shop," said Bet.

"Bye-bye," waved Bob as he and Phil departed.

The girls hurried on with their different tasks. Kit and Bet were making the lamp shades, chattering of their plans for the future.

Shirley putting some prints away noticed the fan.

"Say, Bet, why was old Peter Gruff so excited about the fan?"

"That's just his way. He's simply crazy about antiques. He'll be offering Dad a dollar and a half for it some of these days."

"We can see right down into his basement from our rear window," said Joy. "Did you ever see such a disorderly place? Isn't it a wonder that he ever sells anything?"

The boys had not been gone long when two women walked past the shop, then turned and stopped at the window with an exclamation of surprise.

"When did this place open? Isn't it attractive? Let's go in and see who it is and what they have."

Kit grabbed Joy by the arm. "Let's get out and leave things to Bet and Shirley. Four saleswomen in this shop at present are a few too many." The girls slipped into the room in the rear and waited breathlessly to see what would happen.

Bet recognized the two women. They were newcomers to the town. Mrs. Lester had a charming home in Crestwood, a new suburb of the village, and Mrs. Carey lived only a few streets away.

"We noticed your pretty shop and thought we would look in and see what you have," said Mrs. Lester.

Bet turned to Shirley but now that she was faced with a possible customer, the girl was panic stricken. She bent her head over her work and left Bet to do the talking.

Bet did not find any difficulty in this, however. She rose quite naturally and invited the women to be seated. Mrs. Carey started toward a bright orange chair, and Bet cried, "Oh not there, Mrs. Carey. That one is just painted!" and as the woman turned toward another one, she grabbed her by the arm just in time. "That chair is being repaired and would have let you down."

Everybody was laughing by this time and Shirley was on her feet, offering the women the chairs that were usable.

"How long has your shop been open?" asked Mrs. Carey. "I never noticed it before."

"It isn't open yet—that is we planned on opening it next Saturday, for the paint on the outside isn't dry, and as you see, the chairs are still wet and rickety." And Bet went on to tell of their plans for a Saturday Shop.

As she stopped, Mrs. Lester exclaimed: "That's a splendid idea! I call that clever of you!"

"Oh, I'm not clever. It's Shirley here. She's the one who makes those pretty prints that you see in the window."

"They are lovely. I noticed them."

"They will make nice Christmas presents, don't you think so?" suggested Bet. "Of course it's a little early to think of buying presents, but it's a good idea to have them on hand."

Mrs. Lester smiled at the girl's eagerness and her charming manner.

"I saw one in the window that pleased me very much, but you have everything so nicely arranged I hate to disturb it."

"You needn't worry about that. We'd just love to sell it to you," and Bet looked toward Shirley, who had dropped her work and was already getting the print.

Then Shirley opened her portfolio and the two women looked over the pictures.

"That view of the Hudson is very pretty but I think the print of the gulls suits me better. Yes, that's the one I will take."

Mrs. Carey chose a landscape. Shirley called it "At Dawn."

"This scene is right around here, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, it's right down there by Ritter's pond."

"I love it!" exclaimed the woman. "You've made it prettier than the real scene."

"I'm not so sure about that, Mrs. Carey. You should see it just at sunrise or on a misty morning. It's perfect!"

"That's one nice thing about Shirley. Her pictures are an improvement on nature," laughed Bet.

Kit and Joy, who had been whispering for some time in the back room now appeared with a tray and teapot.

Bet gave them a ravishing smile of approval, and over tea and cakes the girls amused their callers with a recital of their doings.

"Will every customer get a cup of tea?" laughed Mrs. Lester.

"We haven't quite decided that yet. We want to have it cozy and homey as well as business-like."

"I'm sure after this reception we will always want to drop in when we are down town," said Mrs. Lester. "It's the coziest shop I've ever seen."

So well did their first customers get acquainted with the girls that they knew their plans pretty well and Shirley had been asked to bring her camera to Mrs. Lester's home and get a series of pictures of her two small children.

"I planned on having a man come out from New York, but I'm very sure you can do as well. The children are apt to be shy with grown ups."

An appointment was made and as the door closed behind them the four chums dropped into their chairs and stared at each other without speaking. Then Joy came to life with a dance. "Come on Kit, I just have to dance. If I don't I'll explode into a million pieces."

But Shirley was holding the two five-dollar bills in her hand looking at them as if she had never seen such a thing before.

"Girls, you've all been so good in helping. Let's divide this equally between us."

"Why the idea, Shirley Williams!" exclaimed Bet. "Who made those prints? Who sat up until two o'clock one morning? Did we? —We did not. That money belongs to you and no one else."

"Say girls, that was a good idea about the tea. What made you think of it?" Shirley asked a little later.

"We wanted a share in Shirley's first sale and that was the only way we could think of getting into it," smiled Kit.

"It was a good day's work, young lady!" approved Bet. "For if they hadn't been drinking tea they wouldn't have known anything about Shirley's picture-taking ability and now she has an order."

The door rattled again and the girls stood up, expecting another customer. But it was better than that. It was Colonel Baxter with a big package in his arms. He had just returned from New York, bringing with him some purchases for the shop.

As soon as he appeared, the girls met him, all talking at once, and drew him to a chair.

"Sit down, Colonel Baxter. I'll have a cup of tea for you in a minute," shouted Kit and she and Joy ran to the little electric plate in the back room. "The water is almost hot. It will be ready in less than no time."

While the two girls were busy preparing the tea, Bet and Shirley told of the doings of the day and Shirley proudly waved the ten dollars in her hand.

"And just see, Colonel Baxter, the first sales in Shirley's Shop!"

"And I was planning on having that honor myself. I didn't think you would have anything ready until next week. You've done wonders with this old store."

Colonel Baxter laughed heartily over the description of the boys demanding a handout.

"And here's another hungry man," he said. "I hope that tea will soon be ready."

"We're coming just in a minute, Colonel Baxter," called Joy. Then to Kit she said: "I bet he didn't have a bite of lunch. Let's fix up some cold chicken and apple fritters for him."

"Now that's my idea of afternoon tea," exclaimed the Colonel, as he settled himself comfortably in an easy chair and seized upon the chicken. "Did you feed your two customers as well?"

"Oh no," said Kit with great disdain. "With them we were exceedingly polite. We made those little sandwiches, the two for a penny kind, and gave them only tea and cakes besides. That's all they got."

"Then it's all right. I was afraid you might be treating them better than you treated me and I was getting jealous."

The girls cast many searching glances at the package and finally Bet burst out: "Dad dear, I just can't wait a minute longer to see what you bought for Shirley's Shop."

"Then go and see!" But as all the girls made a rush, he exclaimed, "No, no, not all together. Something will be smashed, sure. Let the boss attend to it."

Everybody else stood back, but Bet grabbed the package.

"Well, since when are you boss of Shirley's Shop?" laughed the Colonel. "You forget, you're only boss of Merriweather Manor."

Shirley laughed and undid the strong cord and covering of the box, which was filled with excelsior.

"I don't believe there's a thing in it," said Bet. "He's putting something over on you, Shirley."

But just then the girl's fingers touched something and she drew it forth.

"Oh Daddy, how did you know that's just what we want for our window display?" cried Bet as Shirley held up an exquisite vase and Bet dug her hand into the box and brought forth some vanity cases and other bright objects that the Colonel had chosen.

"How did you ever think of all these lovely things?" said Bet, looking at her father with pride and satisfaction.

"Well, when I went around to the gift shop where I left Shirley's pictures, I just kept my eyes open."

"And did you buy them right there?" asked Bet.

"Of course he didn't! And pay top prices! Colonel Baxter is too good a business man for that and he has the interest of Shirley and Company too much at heart," protested Shirley.

"Oh, I didn't think of that," replied Bet. "One does have to make a profit!"

"Now here you are, Miss Fixit! Here is the bill. I backed you for it and you have two months to pay it."

"That's a debt of thirty dollars, and I've taken in one-third of that this first afternoon and got an order for maybe fifty dollars worth of photographs. When I once get started I can make a lot of money, taking pictures of children in their homes."

"Mrs. Lester would make a striking portrait, herself, Shirley," suggested Bet.

"Don't think I missed seeing a thing like that. I've already posed her in a dozen ways in my mind," answered Shirley.

"Get it on paper, kid!" laughed Kit.

"You've never seen me let any grass grow under my feet, have you?" laughed Shirley.

"No, I haven't. You don't talk much, but you do plenty."

"I'll need to do plenty, if I'm to make Shirley's Shop a success," the girl answered with a happy smile that was full of hope and enthusiasm.

A tap at the door, and another visitor announced himself. He extended his hand at once Co Colonel Baxter.

"How do you do, Mr. Doran," said Colonel Baxter cordially. "Let me introduce you to Shirley Williams, the proprietor of this shop, and her three friends, Bet Baxter, Joy Evans and Kit Patten."

Charles Doran bowed with great ceremony to the young girls and then announced his business.

"I am representing a camera company and I'm anxious to have you put in a line of good cameras."

"Why Shirley, that's not a bad idea," exclaimed Bet. "Days when prints are not selling, cameras may. Who knows?"

"But I'm not sure whether we can or not, Mr. Doran. You see we are just starting and we haven't made any money yet."

"That's all right," replied Mr. Doran. "We've heard of this shop opening and we consider it an A-1 opportunity for us, and it will give us a great deal of pleasure to put in some cameras for you on very satisfactory terms."

Shirley looked toward Colonel Baxter who was enjoying himself, watching the interest of the girls as business details unfolded.

"Sit down, Doran, and have a cup of tea."

Kit made a dive for the rear room to prepare tea.

"Remember this, girls. If you want to get the best of a bargain, always feed your victim." This from Colonel Baxter.

Mr. Doran smiled and an hour later when he left, Shirley had consented to put in a display of cameras to be sold on a generous commission.

Shirley's Shop was progressing and the girls were getting valuable experience as they watched it grow.

Regretfully they bade it good-bye until the following Friday afternoon, when they planned to meet there after school to admire their work and make plans.



CHAPTER XII

A MERRY CHRISTMAS

Shirley's Shop was a success. The four girls had made it so. All their friends, who heard of their efforts, came to buy gifts.

"Aren't we lucky!" exclaimed Bet. "Everybody has been so good!"

"I didn't know I had so many friends in the world," said Shirley with moisture in her eyes. "I wish I could pass it on to others."

"How can that be done?" asked Joy.

"Well, there are so many men out of work this year that I'm sure we could find lots of people to help. I hate to think of children being disappointed at Christmas."

"Why can't we have a tree, right here in the shop and have all the children come and get their presents?"

"That idea's not a total loss, for a wonder, Joy. It shows a good heart but very little head-work," answered Bet.

"Why, Bet Baxter, what's the matter now? Why all the kitty-cat stuff! Take it back!"

"Well, I just hate that kind of a Christmas tree. Showing up the poor little things as being too poor to have one of their own."

"What's your idea, then?" challenged Joy.

"I want the little kiddies to wake up on Christmas morning and find a tree at home and their stockings filled to overflowing."

"Yes, and to know that their eyes will get bigger and bigger, and they'll even peep under the bed to make sure that Santa isn't hiding there," Shirley added.

"That would be a real Christmas," agreed Kit.

"But where will our fun come in? Don't we see their eyes getting big and bigger, or anything? I think that will spoil it all. I want to see them get their toys, put them right into their hands," pouted Joy.

"That's all right, Joy Evans. But what about their faith in Santa Claus? If Santa Claus doesn't come when their Dad is out of work, what will they think of a saint like that, I'd like to know?" exclaimed Bet.

"So we've got to save the reputation of Santa Claus, is that it?" asked Joy.

"That's one way of saying it. Although I would rather put it, that we are playing Santa Claus."

"Right-O!" cried Kit. "What's the first thing to do, General?" Kit stood at salute before Bet.

"We'll go down to the Chamber of Commerce and find out from Mrs. Keith what needy families there are and what ones we will supply. —By the way, Shirley, can we use the back room for the toys we collect?"

"Why certainly, girls, you know you don't have to ask. And you can count on Mrs. Lester giving us a lot of things for very small children. She said the other day that the nursery was full and she wished she knew some children who needed things."

"I'll dress four dolls," promised Kit. "In that way I can indulge my passion for dolls and not be laughed at."

"Why Kit Patten, would you play with dolls? I've always hated them, used to crack their heads against a stone to see their eyes jump out," confessed Joy.

"Why you cruel monster!" cried Shirley. "I always loved dolls, but I had my baby sisters to take care of so I never had much time."

"Now I'll confess!" laughed Bet. "I have a doll trunk under my bed where it can't be seen, and sometimes when I am all alone, I still play with them."

"Aren't you girls funny!" teased Joy. "And you in the first year of high school!"

"Kit," suddenly asked Bet, "will you act as secretary for the Merriweather Girls Helpful Aid Society and keep track of what we all must do?"

"I'm so busy, girls; will you let me buy trees and ornaments, for my share?" asked Shirley.

"Oh, that's fine. All right, put it down, Kit. And I will be on the committee to beg old toys. And we'll all get to work and make repairs. —I have a dandy scooter bike, but it needs paint."

A few days later they had a list of needy ones. "Oh, here's a nice big family for us," cried Bet. "It's Mrs. Ryan down by the tracks. She has nine children, and listen to the names: Emmelina, Francis Drake—oh, girls, isn't it a scream! Next comes Orlando, then Amarylis, Ronald, Marcel, Babette, Ernestine and Vivienne."

"Heaven help us! And do we have to get gifts to live up to those names? Why diamonds and pearls would be too common for such people." Joy threw both hands in the air as a sign of distress.

"Never mind, Joy. I think the little Ryans will deign to accept a stocking full of sweets and things like jumping jacks. Dad thinks we ought to give out some of the repair work to men who are out of jobs. He says he'll help pay for it as his share. Dad has a good bicycle which I'm sure a man can fix up."

"Let's put a sign in the window, 'Man wanted for repair work on toys,'" said the quiet Shirley.

"Might be better to put 'for odd job'," laughed Kit.

Bet took a piece of drawing paper and pencilled the sign at once. It read:

"Man wanted for repair work on toys. Apply Saturday morning at 11 o'clock."

The sign was put in the window on Friday after school, and before the girls were well inside their shop on Saturday the first applicant arrived.

"I see you want a man to work!"

"Oh, but you weren't to call before eleven o'clock."

"Sure, I know that, but what chance would a fellow have to wait that long? Everybody wants work."

"All right, take a look at that bicycle and see if you can find out what's the matter with it." Bet led the way to the rear room.

"It looks like a pretty good bicycle, Miss. But it's hard to say whether it can be fixed or not. A blacksmith might tell you!"

Just then the door of the shop opened and another man entered.

"I see the ad. in the window; I want to talk to the boss."

Shirley ran for Bet who was still interviewing the first comer, and shoved her toward the door. "You talk to him, Bet."

"Good morning, sir," said Bet.

"I want to talk to the boss."

"I'm the boss."

The man glared at her with an angry look. She saw that he did not believe her and imagined that she was making fun of him.

"When I want to see the boss, that's who I want to see!" he muttered.

A third man appeared and the second turned on him. "Say, can't you read? That sign says eleven o'clock! Now git out!"

"I'll not get out. Where's the boss?"

By this time the girls were frightened at the threatening attitude of the men. Joy was almost hysterical with fear.

"I'm the only boss there is here," said the second visitor, doubling up his fists as if prepared to fight.

Bet came toward the two men. "I don't want either of you men to work for me. Will you please go away?"

A small crowd of men was collecting outside the door and Bet was afraid. She went toward the back room, hoping to be able to enlist the help of the one she had been talking to. Just as she did so, the door was thrust open, and Bet, shoving the other girls in front of her, exclaimed in a whisper, "What will we do?"

But as she turned at the door, she saw a tall figure, who grabbed the ruffian by the collar and invited him outside.

"Oh it's Phil!" exclaimed Bet hysterically. "Now we're all right!"

After Phil had persuaded the men in the crowd to leave, he returned to the room to find the first caller making ready to go. "I don't know anything about bicycles. Anyway it's steady work I want. There's no money in odd jobs."

"What under the sun is it all about?" demanded Phil anxiously as more men began to collect.

"We put a sign in the window asking for a man to help on the repair work!" said Bet.

"Then get it out as quick as you can. You'll have a line here soon."

"How are we going to get someone to help, then? Dad thought it would be a good idea to hire men who are out of work."

"He probably expected you to call up the Chamber of Commerce and get a man. They know everybody who needs work."

"Oh dear, what a lot of things one has to learn when they go into business!" mused Kit. "I thought we were doing just right."

That afternoon the bicycle was being repaired by old Bill Colby, a fine old man who lived with his invalid wife in a small shack on the back street. He took such pride in his work that the bicycle looked like new when he finished it. And the pay warmed his heart. The girls were generous.

During the next two weeks, the back room of Shirley's Shop looked as if there had been a revolution in toyland. Dolls without heads, others without arms or legs, eyeless ones, big and little were strewn about the room, while doll carriages minus wheels, kiddie cars, battered and streaked, awaited the skillful hand of the old man.

One afternoon shortly before Christmas as he was leaving Bet said, "We will have a Christmas package to send down to Mrs. Colby."

The old man's face flushed with pleasure. "Mother is bedfast with rheumatism," he said, "and it would do her a power of good if you would run in and see her sometime. She'll like the present too, but she gets very lonely."

"There Joy, there's your chance to do personal work. You can go and call on Ma Colby and see her eyes shine."

"I'll just do that. I want to be Lady Bountiful but I also want to get some thrill out of giving," laughed Joy.

"All right, there's your chance."

The report that they were going to give out toys soon got around, and the day before Christmas Mrs. Ryan appeared leading four of her children. "I just came in to say that Emmelina needs a new dress, worst way, and Orlando must have shoes."

"I'm very sorry," replied Bet. "You see we are giving out only toys. You should go down to the Chamber of Commerce, they are attending to the clothing."

Mrs. Ryan looked disappointed. "Lots of people pretend they need help when they don't. The Nestors next door to me, they don't need it at all. They have plenty.—And I'm a worthy object. Mr. Ryan has been out of work considerable this year."

The girls looked their sympathy but could do nothing. "You go down to the Chamber of Commerce," they advised.

In a few minutes after she had left, another woman called. "I just come in to see if you could get my little Mike an overcoat. He needs one terrible. He gets that cold!"

Again Bet referred the woman to the Chamber of Commerce, and as she left, she whispered, "There are some people who apply for help who don't need it at all. There's Mrs. Ryan next door to me. She gets plenty.—And my Mike needs a coat."

The girls laughed long and merrily over the two women. They called Mrs. Keith at the Chamber of Commerce and had a further laugh over the recital of the efforts of the two women to see who would get the most.

At last everything was ready and the girls waited patiently for the Shop to close. Phil and Bob arrived with two cars to take the things to the different houses.

As they stopped the car a little way down the street from Mrs. Ryan's and approached the gate with their arms full, they heard the loud voice of that woman calling over the back fence, "I've got two Christmas trees already, I'll sell you one cheap. You can have it for fifty cents."

"Indeed and I'll not give you fifty cents for it, Mrs. Ryan, I'll not give you twenty-five cents for it."

"I know where I can sell it for sixty cents, Mrs. Nestor."

"Then that's where you should sell it."

"Being as it's you, Mrs. Nestor, I'll give you the tree for fifteen cents."

"Does that mean ornaments, too?"

"Ornaments," cried Mrs. Ryan. "I haven't any ornaments to spare. Oranges and apples are plenty good for you."

"Then I'll only give you ten cents for it. Take it or leave it."

"Ten cents! Why I'm ashamed of you, Mrs. Nestor, for being so close-fisted!"

"You took two trees! I'd like to know who's close-fisted! Ten cents it is, Mrs. Ryan or nothing."

"All right, Mrs. Nestor, but I must say I'm disappointed In you. I allus thought you were a good, kind neighbor."

"Give me the tree! And here's your ten cents! I have some ornaments left over from last year."

"If she had only waited a little longer, she might have saved ten cents and got some ornaments as well," laughed Phil, as Bet signalled him to put the tree back.

"It's a good thing," sighed Kit as they got into the car again, "that not all cases are like that. There was Mrs. Delaney, and how grateful she was for every little thing. By the way, they didn't get a tree. This will just round out their Christmas in style."

"I'm so glad that Hal Delaney got that bicycle of your father's, Bet. He will put it to good use in delivering his papers."

When the girls went to bed that night they felt they had earned their rest.

Shirley's Shop had done remarkably well during the Christmas rush and all the girls were delighted. To Shirley it meant that she saw hope ahead of being able to finish High School and perhaps go on to college. She went to sleep that night dreaming of the rosy future that she painted for herself.

"And I'll make it come true!" she declared, as she opened her eyes the next morning and found that the Shop and the bank account was not all a dream.



CHAPTER XIII

BET'S PARTY

When Bet awoke the next morning she gave a little cry of delight as she looked out on the white world. The trees were heavy with snow and everything had been changed to a magic garden.

"If I'd had any idea that we were going to have snow, I'd have had a coasting party tomorrow night."

After the thrill the girls had experienced in their Christmas giving, they now looked forward to their own pleasures. Even Christmas day seemed to be insignificant when compared to the prospect of the party.

Although Bet's father had made arrangements for the party, it was not with his usual enthusiasm, and Bet watched him carefully, thinking he was ill. But the Colonel laughed her fears away. And from then on he tried to hide from his little daughter the fact that he was worried.

Business investments had all gone wrong. In fact everything he had touched for the last year had been a disappointment. Now it seemed as if the only way to save what he had was to get a large sum of money, and in these uncertain tunes, that was impossible.—Unless he sold the Manor.

It was this problem that was worrying him. He could not bear to give up his home. It was here that he had brought his young wife and for two years had lived in a Paradise. Her early death had crushed him for a time, and it was only in the Manor where the dear memories of her happy spirit filled each room, that he was content.

It was the fear that he might have to give up his home, that made Colonel Baxter worry, and Bet watched him with troubled eyes.

He had put forth an extra effort to appear happy during the Christmas season, and he tried to throw himself into the plans for the party with his usual enthusiasm.

Bet saw the difference, but wisely said nothing.

At the Colonel's suggestion, they decided on a costume party. That would give the girls a chance to wear some of the lovely old dresses that he had collected.

Bet was terribly disappointed when her father came hurrying in at noon before the party with the announcement that he had a business call to Chicago, and would not be able to attend the party.

"Then we'll put it off, Daddy. A party wouldn't be any fun without you."

"No, I wouldn't do that, Bet. Think of the many who would be disappointed if you postpone it. Then too, I may not be back for two weeks. It is a business matter that I must attend to. It's important."

Reluctantly Bet went on with her plans. There were a few tears when she told the bad news to her chums in the afternoon.

"That's the worst of having a father who plays with you," said Joy. "I never expect my mother and father to care about my good times."

"I just can't make it a real success without Dad," exclaimed Bet tearfully.

"You can, if you try, Bet Baxter. So brace up and stop your sniffling!"

"I wasn't sniffling, Joy Evans," exploded Bet.

"What do you call it, then?" laughed Joy.

"Just a few regretful tears."

Even Shirley, the serious one laughed heartily at Bet. And in a few minutes they were busy with their plans.

"Say Bet, what possessed you to ask Edith Whalen? I've tried to be glad but it isn't in me to be," said Joy.

"I'm not glad, myself, but what's the use of being a Merriweather Girl unless you live up to the heroine of the Manor? Lady Betty would have asked her, I'm sure," replied Bet.

"Then she must have been an angel!" exclaimed Kit, who had so much joy taken out of her school life by the unpleasant remarks of Edith and her friend Vivian Long, that she did not welcome the thought of meeting her at the party.

"Lady Betty was an angel!" cried Bet, tossing a kiss to the smiling face above her.

"Then why did we take her as an ideal? Who can live up to an angel? I can't," said Kit sadly.

"None of us can, but Dad says it's a good thing to have a star to aim at. Course it's away above our heads but we can aim, just the same. She's our star. Each of us can have our own pet ones. I have my lovely mother, who is another angel. She's for myself, but Lady Betty is a company affair."

"Did you think all that out, Bet?" asked Shirley.

"Dad helped me. It troubled me to have Lady Betty for our club ideal! It seemed like putting her before my mother, then Dad explained that I could hardly share mother! And that makes it all right."

"I think Lady Betty is pleased, don't you. She smiles so sweetly," whispered Kit.

"She always smiled sweetly, even when she was having terrible troubles. She didn't cry just over a disappointment. She was brave!" Bet straightened up and brushed a tear away.

"We'll have to be like her," laughed Kit as she added: "And believe me, it takes bravery to meet Edith."

"Therefore Kit Patten, I'm going to give you full charge of Edith tonight. See that she has a good time," commanded Bet.

"Hold on there, Bet Baxter. I'm a bucking bronco and you can't trust me to drive in harness. I'll disgrace you! Like as not when Edith puts on that superior air, I'll take her by the arm and escort her out of doors."

"No, you won't. I know you!" Bet patted her friend lovingly.

"Just the same, I hope her mother will keep her at home on account of the snow storm."

Kit did better than she thought she could. The fact that the four Merriweather Girls were the hostesses and received the guests as they came in, gave Kit prestige that Edith dared not ignore.

Some of the guests in gay and weird costumes had arrived when the phone rang. Laura Sands' voice was husky with crying. "Oh Bet, I can't come. I've ruined my costume and I won't go without one."

"You come right along up here, Laura. I have lot of costumes and you can take your pick."

Laura arrived in ordinary clothes and Bet and Kit conducted her to the attic to choose a Colonial gown.

When the door to the narrow stairway was opened, Bet heard a queer scraping sound as if one of the old trunks had been moved.

"What's that?" asked Kit. "Do you suppose it's rats?"

"No, don't worry! It isn't anything!" But as Bet switched on the light and reached the top step she was just in time to see a figure in bright clothes go out the window. She heard the sound of a thud on the veranda of the second floor and running feet along the corridor.