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diff --git a/28448-h/28448-h.htm b/28448-h/28448-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2d145fe --- /dev/null +++ b/28448-h/28448-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6354 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Campfire Girls of Roselawn, by Margaret Penrose. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.0em;} + p.chgrp {text-align:center; font-style:italic; font-size:1.4em; margin:1em auto;} + hr.titlepage {border:none; height:6px; border-top:1px solid black; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:20em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0em; margin-bottom:0em; text-align:center;} + .caption {font-size:.8em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.2em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Campfire Girls of Roselawn, by Margaret Penrose + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Campfire Girls of Roselawn + A Strange Message from the Air + +Author: Margaret Penrose + +Release Date: March 30, 2009 [EBook #28448] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMPFIRE GIRLS OF ROSELAWN *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>THE CAMPFIRE GIRLS<br />OF ROSELAWN</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<hr class='titlepage' style='margin-bottom:40px;' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-style:italic;font-size:2em;'>The</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;font-size:2em;'>Campfire Girls</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-style:italic;font-size:2em;'>of Roselawn</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;margin-top:1em;'>or</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;'>A Strange Message<br />from the Air</p> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.png' /> +</div> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:3em;'><i>By Margaret Penrose</i></p> +<p class='tp' style='font-style:italic;'>New York</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;'>The Goldsmith Publishing Co.</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;'>Publishers</p> +<hr class='titlepage' style='margin-top:40px;' /> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;font-variant:small-caps;'>Copyright<br />By<br />The Goldsmith Publishing Co.</p> + +<p class='tp' style='font-style:italic;font-size:0.8em;margin-top:2em;'>Printed in U. S. A.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>They Hear a Voice</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_THEY_HEAR_A_VOICE'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Road Mystery</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_A_ROAD_MYSTERY'>11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Interest in Radio Spreads</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_INTEREST_IN_RADIO_SPREADS'>19</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Stringing the Aerials</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_STRINGING_THE_AERIALS'>29</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Freckle-Faced Girl</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_THE_FRECKLEFACED_GIRL'>39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Something Coming</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_SOMETHING_COMING'>49</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Canoe Trip</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_THE_CANOE_TRIP'>57</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Carter’s Ghost</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_CARTERS_GHOST'>66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Henrietta Is Valiant</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_HENRIETTA_IS_VALIANT'>75</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Prize Idea</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_THE_PRIZE_IDEA'>82</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Belle Ringold</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_BELLE_RINGOLD'>89</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Glorious Fourth</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_THE_GLORIOUS_FOURTH'>96</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Bazaar</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_THE_BAZAAR'>106</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Jealousy</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_JEALOUSY'>113</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Can It Be Possible?</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_CAN_IT_BE_POSSIBLE'>120</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Spotted Snake, the Witch</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_SPOTTED_SNAKE_THE_WITCH'>127</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Broadcasting</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_BROADCASTING'>134</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Mystery of the Ether</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_A_MYSTERY_OF_THE_ETHER'>143</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Puzzling Circumstance</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_A_PUZZLING_CIRCUMSTANCE'>149</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Something Doing at the Stanleys’</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_SOMETHING_DOING_AT_THE_STANLEYS'>156</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Great To-Do</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_A_GREAT_TODO'>163</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Silk!</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXII_SILK'>170</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Darry’s Big Idea</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII_DARRYS_BIG_IDEA'>178</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Radio Trick</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV_A_RADIO_TRICK'>187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Just in Time</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXV_JUST_IN_TIME'>193</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='chgrp'>They Hear a Voice</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<p style='font-size:1.3em; text-align:center;margin-top:3em; margin-bottom:1em;'>THE CAMPFIRE GIRLS<br />OF ROSELAWN</p> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_THEY_HEAR_A_VOICE' id='CHAPTER_I_THEY_HEAR_A_VOICE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>THEY HEAR A VOICE</h3> +</div> +<p>“Oh, it’s wonderful, Amy! Just wonderful!”</p> +<p>The blonde girl in the porch swing +looked up with shining eyes and flushed face from +her magazine to look at the dark girl who swung +composedly in a rocking chair, her nimble fingers +busy with the knitting of a shoulder scarf. The +dark girl bobbed her head in agreement.</p> +<p>“So’s the Sphinx, but it’s awfully out of date, +Jess.”</p> +<p>Jessie Norwood looked offended. “Did I ever +bring to your attention, Miss Drew––”</p> +<p>“Why don’t you say ‘drew’ to my attention?” +murmured the other girl.</p> +<p>“Because I perfectly loathe puns,” declared +Jessie, with energy.</p> +<p>“Good! Miss Seymour’s favorite pupil. Go +on about the wonder beast, Jess.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span></p> +<p>“It is no beast, I’d have you understand. And +it is right up to date—the very newest thing.”</p> +<p>“My dear Jessie,” urged her chum, gayly, “you +have tickled my curiosity until it positively wriggles! +What is the wonder?”</p> +<p>“Radio!”</p> +<p>“Oh! Wireless?”</p> +<p>“Wireless telephone. Everybody is having +one.”</p> +<p>“Grandma used to prescribe sulphur and +molasses for that.”</p> +<p>“Do be sensible for once, Amy Drew. You and +Darry––”</p> +<p>“That reminds me. Darry knows all about it.”</p> +<p>“About what?”</p> +<p>“The radio telephone business. You know he +was eighteen months on a destroyer in the war, +even if he was only a kid. You know,” and Amy +giggled, “he says that if women’s ages are always +elastic, it was no crime for him to stretch his +age when he enlisted. Anyhow, he knows all +about the ‘listening boxes’ down in the hold. And +that is all this radio is.”</p> +<p>“Oh, but Amy!” cried Jessie, with a toss of her +blond head, “that is old stuff. The radio of to-day +is very different—much improved. Anybody +can have a receiving set and hear the most wonderful +things out of the air. It has been brought +to every home.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span></p> +<p>“‘Have you a little radio in your home?’” +chuckled Amy, her fingers still flying.</p> +<p>“Dear me, Amy, you are so difficult,” sighed +her chum.</p> +<p>“Not at all, not at all,” replied the other girl. +“You can understand me, just as e-e-easy! But +you know, Jess, I have to act as a brake for your +exuberance.”</p> +<p>“Don’t care,” declared Jessie. “I’m going to +have one.”</p> +<p>“If cook isn’t looking, bring one for me, too,” +suggested the irrepressible joker.</p> +<p>“I mean to have a radio set,” repeated Jessie +quite seriously. “It says in this magazine article +that one can erect the aerials and all, oneself. And +place the instrument. I am going to do it.”</p> +<p>“Sure you can,” declared Amy, with confidence. +“If you said you could rebuild the Alps—and improve +on them—I’d root for you, honey.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want any of your joking,” declared +Jessie, with emphasis. “I am in earnest.”</p> +<p>“So am I. About the Alps. Aunt Susan, who +went over this year, says the traveling there is +just as rough as it was before the war. She +doesn’t see that the war did any good. If I were +you, Jess, and thought of making over the +Alps––”</p> +<p>“Now, Amy Drew! Who said anything about +the Alps?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></p> +<p>“I did,” confessed her chum. “And I was +about to suggest that, if you tackle the job of rebuilding +them, you flatten ’em out a good bit so +Aunt Susan can get across them easier.”</p> +<p>“Amy Drew! Will you ever have sense?”</p> +<p>“What is it, a conundrum? Something about +‘Take care of the dollars and the cents will take +care of themselves?’”</p> +<p>“I am talking about installing a radio set in our +house. And if you don’t stop funning and help +me do it, I won’t let you listen in, so there!”</p> +<p>“I’ll be good,” proclaimed Amy at once. “I +enjoy gossip just as much as the next one. And +if you can get it out of the air––”</p> +<p>“It has to be sent from a broadcasting station,” +announced Jessie.</p> +<p>“There’s one right in this town,” declared Amy, +with vigor.</p> +<p>“No!”</p> +<p>“Yes, I tell you. She lives in the second house +from the corner of Breen Street, the yellow house +with green blinds––”</p> +<p>“Now, Amy! Listen here! Never mind local +gossips. They only broadcast neighborhood +news. But we can get concerts and weather reports +and lectures––”</p> +<p>Amy painfully writhed in her chair at this +point. “Say not so, Jess!” she begged. “Get +lectures enough at school—and from dad, once +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +in a while, when the dear thinks I go too far.”</p> +<p>“I think you go too far most of the time,” declared +her chum primly. “Nobody else would +have the patience with you that I have.”</p> +<p>“Except Burd Alling,” announced Amy composedly. +“He thinks I am all right.”</p> +<p>“Pooh! Whoever said Burd Alling had good +sense?” demanded Jessie. “Now listen!” She +read a long paragraph from the magazine article. +“You see, it is the very latest thing to do. +Everybody is doing it. And it is the most wonderful +thing!”</p> +<p>Amy had listened with more seriousness. She +could be attentive and appreciative if she +wished. The paragraph her chum read was interesting.</p> +<p>“Go ahead. Read some more,” she said. “Is +that all sure enough so, Jess?”</p> +<p>“Of course it is so. Don’t you see it is printed +here?”</p> +<p>“You mustn’t believe everything you see in +print, Jess. My grandfather was reported killed +in the Civil War, and he came home and pointed +out several things they had got wrong in the +newspaper obituary—especially the date of his +demise. Now this––”</p> +<p>“I am going to get a book about it, and that +will tell us just what to do in getting a radio set +established.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span></p> +<p>“I’ll tell you the first thing to do,” scoffed +Amy. “Dig down into your pocketbook.”</p> +<p>“It won’t cost much. But I mean to have a +good one.”</p> +<p>“All right, dear. I am with you. Never let it +be said I deserted Poll. What is the first move?”</p> +<p>“Now, let me see,” murmured Jessie, staring +off across the sunflecked lawn.</p> +<p>The Norwood estate was a grand place. The +house, with its surrounding porches, stood in Roselawn +upon a knoll with several acres of sloping +sod surrounding it and a lovely little lake at the +side. There was a long rose garden on either side +of the house, and groups of summer roses in +front. Roses, roses, roses, everywhere about the +place! The Norwoods all loved them.</p> +<p>But there were more roses in this section of the +pretty town of New Melford, and on that account +many inhabitants of the place had gotten into the +habit of calling the estates bordering the boulevard +by the name of Roselawn. It was the Roselawn +district, for every lawn was dotted with +roses, red, pink, white, and yellow.</p> +<p>The Norwoods were three. Jessie, we put first +because to us she is of the most importance, and +her father and mother would agree. Being the +only child, it is true they made much of her. But +Jessie Norwood was too sweet to be easily spoiled.</p> +<p>Her father was a lawyer in New York, which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +was twenty miles from New Melford. The Norwoods +had some wealth, which was good. They +had culture, which was better. And they were a +very loving and companionable trio, which was +best.</p> +<p>Across the broad, shaded boulevard was a +great, rambling, old house, with several broad +chimneys. It had once been a better class farmstead. +Mr. Wilbur Drew, who was likewise a +lawyer, had rebuilt and added to and improved +and otherwise transformed the farmhouse until +it was an attractive and important-looking +dwelling.</p> +<p>In it lived the lawyer and his wife, his daughter, +Amy, and Darrington Drew, when he was home +from college. This was another happy family—in +a way. Yet they were just a little different +from the Norwoods. But truly “nice people.”</p> +<p>When Amy Drew once gave her mind to a +thing she could be earnest enough. The little her +chum had read her from the magazine article +began to interest her. Besides, whatever Jessie +was engaged in must of necessity hold the attention +of Amy.</p> +<p>She laid aside the knitting and went to sit +beside Jessie in the swing. They turned back to +the beginning of the article and read it through +together, their arms wound about each other in +immemorial schoolgirl fashion. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span></p> +<p>Of course, as Amy pointed out, they were not +exactly schoolgirls now. They were out of school—since +two days before. The long summer vacation +was ahead of them. Time might hang idly +on their hands. So it behooved them to find something +absorbing to keep their attention keyed up +to the proper pitch.</p> +<p>“Tell you what,” Amy suggested. “Let’s go +down town to the bookstore and see if they have +laid in a stock of this radio stuff. We want one +or two of the books mentioned here, Jess. We +are two awfully smart girls, I know; we will both +admit it. But some things we have positively got +to learn.”</p> +<p>“Silly,” crooned Jessie, patting her chum on the +cheek. “Let’s go. We’ll walk. Wait till I run +and see if Momsy doesn’t want something from +down town.”</p> +<p>“We won’t ask Mrs. Drew that question, for +she will be pretty sure to want a dozen things, +and I refuse—positively—to be a dray horse. I +‘have drew’ more than my share from the stores +already. Cyprian in the car can run the dear, +forgetful lady’s errands.”</p> +<p>Jessie scarcely listened to this. She ran in and +ran out again. She was smiling.</p> +<p>“Momsy says all she wants is two George +Washington sundaes, to be brought home in two +separate parcels, one blonde and one brunette,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +and she held up half a dollar before Amy’s eyes.</p> +<p>“Your mother, as I have always said, Jess, is +of the salt of the earth. And she is well sugared, +too. Let me carry the half dollar, honey. You’ll +swallow it, or lose it, or something. Aren’t to +be trusted yet with money,” and Amy marched +down the steps in the lead.</p> +<p>She always took the lead, and usually acted as +though she were the moving spirit of the pair. +But, really, Jessie Norwood was the more practical, +and it was usually her initiative that started +the chums on a new thing and always her “sticktoitiveness” +that carried them through to the end.</p> +<p>Bonwit Boulevard, beautifully laid out, shaded +with elms, with a grass path in the middle, two +oiled drives, and with a bridle path on one side, +was one of the finest highways in the state. At +this hour of the afternoon, before the return rush +of the auto-commuters from the city, the road was +almost empty.</p> +<p>The chums chatted of many things as they went +along. But Jessie came back each time to radio. +She had been very much interested in the wonder +of it and in the possibility of rigging the necessary +aerials and setting up a receiving set at her +own house.</p> +<p>“We can get the books to tell us how to do it, +and we can buy the wire for the antenna to-day,” +she said. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span></p> +<p>“‘Antenna’! Is it an insect?” demanded Amy. +“Sounds crawly.”</p> +<p>“Those are the aerials––”</p> +<p>“Listen!” interrupted Amy Drew.</p> +<p>A sound—a shrill and compelling voice—reached +their ears. Amy’s hand clutched at +Jessie’s arm and held her back. There was nobody +in sight, and the nearest house was some +way back from the road.</p> +<p>“What is it?” murmured Jessie.</p> +<p>“Help! He-e-elp!” repeated the voice, shrilly.</p> +<p>“Radio!” muttered Amy, sepulchrally. “It is +a voice out of the air.”</p> +<p>There positively was nobody in sight. But +Jessie Norwood was practical. She knew there +was a street branching off the boulevard just a +little way ahead. Besides, she heard the throbbing +of an automobile engine.</p> +<p>“Help!” shrieked the unknown once more.</p> +<p>“It is a girl,” declared Jessie, beginning to run +and half dragging Amy Drew with her. “She is +in trouble! We must help her!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>A Road Mystery</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_A_ROAD_MYSTERY' id='CHAPTER_II_A_ROAD_MYSTERY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>A ROAD MYSTERY</h3> +</div> +<p>Like a great many other beautiful streets, +there was a poverty-stricken section, if +sparsely inhabited, just behind Bonwit +Boulevard. A group of shacks and squatters’ +huts down in a grassy hollow, with a little brook +flowing through it to the lake, and woods beyond. +It would not have been an unsightly spot if the +marks of the habitation of poor and careless folk +had been wiped away.</p> +<p>But at the moment Jessie Norwood and her +chum, Amy Drew, darted around from the broad +boulevard into the narrow lane that led down to +this poor hamlet, neither of the girls remembered +“Dogtown,” as the group of huts was locally +called. The real estate men who exploited Roselawn +and Bonwit Boulevard as the most aristocratic +suburban section of New Melford, never +spoke of Dogtown.</p> +<p>“What do you suppose is the matter, Jess?” +panted Amy.</p> +<p>“It’s a girl in trouble! Look at that!”</p> +<p>The chums did not have to go even as far as +the brow of the hill overlooking the group of +houses before mentioned. The scene of the action +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +of this drama was not a hundred yards off the +boulevard.</p> +<p>A big touring car stood in the narrow lane, +headed toward the broad highway from which +Jessie and Amy had come. It was a fine car, and +the engine was running. A very unpleasant looking, +narrow-shouldered woman sat behind the +steering wheel, but was twisted around in her +seat so that she could look behind her.</p> +<p>In the lane was another woman. Both were +expensively dressed, though not tastefully; and +this second woman was as billowy and as generously +proportioned as the one behind the wheel +was lean. She was red-faced, too, and panted +from her exertions.</p> +<p>Those exertions, it was evident at once to +Jessie and Amy, were connected with the capturing +and the subsequent restraining of a very active +and athletic girl of about the age of the chums. +She was quite as red-faced as the fleshy woman, +and she was struggling with all her might to get +away, while now and then she emitted a shout for +help that would have brought a crowd in almost +no time in any place more closely built up.</p> +<p>“Oh! What is the matter?” repeated Amy.</p> +<p>“Bring her along, Martha!” exclaimed the +woman already in the motor-car. “Here come a +couple of rubber-necks.”</p> +<p>This expression, to Jessie’s mind, marked the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +driver of the automobile for exactly what she +was. Nor did the face of the fat woman impress +the girl as being any more refined.</p> +<p>As for the girl struggling with the second +woman—the one called “Martha”—she was not +very well dressed. But she looked neat and clean, +and she certainly was determined not to enter the +automobile if she could help it. Jessie doubted, +although she had at first thought it possible, if +either of these women were related to the girl +they seemed so determined to capture.</p> +<p>“What are they—road pirates? Kidnapers?” +demanded Amy. “What?”</p> +<p>The two chums stopped by the machine. They +really did not know what to do. Should they +help the screaming girl? Or should they aid the +fleshy woman? It might be that the girl had +run away from perfectly good guardians. Only, +to Jessie’s mind, there was something of the refinement +that pertained to the girl lacking in the +appearance of these two women. She was not +favorably impressed by them.</p> +<p>“What is the matter with the girl?” she asked +the woman in the car.</p> +<p>Although she said it politely, the woman flashed +her a scowling glance and said:</p> +<p>“Mind your own business!”</p> +<p>“My!” gasped Amy at this, her eyes opening +very wide. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></p> +<p>Jessie was not at all reassured. She turned to +the fleshy woman, and repeated her question:</p> +<p>“What is the matter with the girl?”</p> +<p>“She’s crazy, that’s what she is!” cried the +woman. “She doesn’t know what is good for +her.”</p> +<p>“I’ll learn her!” rasped out the driver of the +car.</p> +<p>“Don’t!” shouted the girl. “Don’t let them +take me back there––”</p> +<p>Just then the fleshy woman got behind her. She +clutched the girl’s shoulders and drove her harshly +toward the car with her whole weight behind the +writhing girl. The other woman jumped out of +the car, seized the girl by one arm, and together +the women fairly threw their captive into the +tonneau of the car, where she fell on her hands and +knees.</p> +<p>“There, spiteful!” gasped the lean woman. +“I’ll show you!”</p> +<p>She hopped back behind the steering wheel. +The fleshy woman climbed into the tonneau and +held the still shrieking girl. The car started with +a dash, the door of the tonneau flapping.</p> +<p>“Oh! This isn’t right!” gasped Jessie.</p> +<p>“They are running away with her, Jess,” murmured +Amy. “Isn’t it exciting?”</p> +<p>“It’s mean!” declared her chum with conviction. +“How dare they?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span></p> +<p>“Why, to look at her, I think that skinny +woman would dare anything,” remarked Amy. +“And—haven’t—you seen her before?”</p> +<p>“Never! She doesn’t live around here. And +that car is strange.”</p> +<p>The car had turned into the boulevard and +headed out of town. When the girls walked back +to the broad highway it was out of sight. It +was being driven with small regard for the speed +laws.</p> +<p>“I guess you are right,” reflected Amy. “I +never saw that car before. It is a French car. +But the woman’s face––”</p> +<p>“There was enough of that to remember,” declared +Jessie, quite spitefully.</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean the fat woman’s face,” giggled +Amy. “I mean that the other woman looked +familiar. Maybe I have seen her picture somewhere.”</p> +<p>“If my face was like hers I’d never have it +photographed,” snapped Jessie.</p> +<p>“How vinegarish,” said Amy. “Well, it was +funny.”</p> +<p>“You do find humor in the strangest things,” +returned her chum. “I guess that poor girl didn’t +think it was funny.”</p> +<p>“Of course, they had some right to her,” Amy +declared.</p> +<p>“How do you know they did? They did not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +act so,” returned the more thoughtful Jessie. “If +they had really the right to make the poor girl go +with them, they would not have acted in such +haste nor answered me the way they did.”</p> +<p>“Well, of course, it wasn’t any of our business +either to ask questions or to interfere,” Amy +declared.</p> +<p>“I don’t know about that, Amy,” rejoined her +chum. “I wish your brother had been here, or +somebody.”</p> +<p>“Darry!” scoffed Amy.</p> +<p>“Or maybe Burd Alling,” and Jessie’s eyes +twinkled.</p> +<p>“Well,” considered Amy demurely, “I suppose +the boys might have known better what to +do.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Jessie, promptly, “I knew what to +do, all right; only I couldn’t do it.”</p> +<p>“What is that?”</p> +<p>“Stopped the women and made them explain +before we allowed them to take the girl away. +And I wonder where she was going. When and +where did she run away from the women? Did +you hear her beg us not to let them take her +back—back––”</p> +<p>“Back where?”</p> +<p>“That is it, exactly,” sighed Jessie, as the two +walked on toward town. “She did not tell us +where.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p> +<p>“Some institution, maybe. An orphan asylum,” +suggested Amy.</p> +<p>“Did you think she looked like an orphan?”</p> +<p>“How does an orphan look?” giggled Amy. “I +don’t know any except the <i>Molly Mickford</i> kind +in the movies, and they are always too appealing +for words!”</p> +<p>“Somehow, she didn’t look like that,” admitted +Jessie.</p> +<p>“She fought hard. I believe I would have +scratched that fat woman’s face myself, if I’d +been her. Anyway, she wasn’t in any uniform. +Don’t they always put orphans in blue denim?”</p> +<p>“Not always. And that girl would have looked +awful in blue. She was too dark. She wasn’t +very well dressed, but her clothes and their colors +were tasteful.”</p> +<p>“Aren’t you the observing thing,” agreed Amy. +“She was dressed nicely. And those women were +never guards from an institution.”</p> +<p>“Oh, no!”</p> +<p>“It was a private kidnaping party, I guess,” +said Amy.</p> +<p>“And we let it go on right under our noses and +did not stop it,” sighed Jessie Norwood. “I’m +going to tell my father about it.”</p> +<p>Amy grinned elfishly. “He will tell you that +you had a right, under the law, to stop those +women and make them explain.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></p> +<p>“Ye-es. I suppose so. But a right to do a +thing and the ability to do it, he will likewise tell +me, are two very different things.”</p> +<p>“Wisdom from the young owl!” laughed Amy. +“Well, I don’t suppose, after all, it is any of our +business, or ever will be. The poor thing is now +a captive and being borne away to the dungeon-keep. +Whatever that is,” she added, shrugging +her shoulders.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>Interest in Radio Spreads</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_INTEREST_IN_RADIO_SPREADS' id='CHAPTER_III_INTEREST_IN_RADIO_SPREADS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>INTEREST IN RADIO SPREADS</h3> +</div> +<p>Over the George Washington sundaes at the +New Melford Dainties Shop the girls discussed +the mysterious happening on Dogtown +Lane until it was, as Amy said, positively +frayed.</p> +<p>“We do not know what it was all about, my +dear, so why worry our minds? We shall probably +never see that girl again, or those two +women. Only, that lean one—well! I know I +have seen her somewhere, or somebody who looks +like her.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see but you are just as bad as I am,” +Jessie Norwood said. “But we did not come to +town because of that puzzling thing.”</p> +<p>“No-o. We came to get these perfectly +gorgeous sundaes,” declared Amy Drew. “Your +mother, Jess, is almost as nice as you are.”</p> +<p>“We came in to get radio books and buy wire +and stops and all that for the aerials, anyway. +Of course, I shall have to send for most of the +parts of the house set. There is no regular radio +equipment dealer in New Melford.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></p> +<p>“Oh, yes! Wireless!” murmured Amy. “I +had almost forgotten that.”</p> +<p>They trotted across the street to the bookstore. +Motors were coming up from the station now, +and from New York. They waved their hands +to several motoring acquaintances, and just outside +Ye Craftsman’s Bookshop they ran into Nell +Stanley, who they knew had no business at all +there on Main Street at this hour of the afternoon. +Nell was the minister’s daughter, and there +were a number of little motherless Stanleys at the +parsonage (Amy said “a whole raft of them”) +who usually needed the older sister’s attention, +approaching supper time.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ve a holiday,” laughed Nell, who was +big and strong and really handsome, Jessie +thought, her coloring was so fresh, her chestnut +hair so abundant, her gray eyes so brilliantly intelligent, +and her teeth so dazzling. “Aunt Freda +is at the house and she and the Reverend told me +to go out and not to show myself back home for +hours.”</p> +<p>“Bully-good!” declared Amy. “You’ll come +home to dinner with me, and we will spend the +evening with Jess helping her build a radio thing +so we can do without buying the New Melford +<i>Tribune</i> to get the local news.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Jess, dear, <i>are</i> you going to have a +radio?” cried Nell. “It’s just wonderful. Reverend +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +says he may have to broadcast his sermons +pretty soon or else be without an audience.”</p> +<p>The pet name by which she usually spoke of her +father, the Reverend Doctor Stanley, sounded all +right when Nell said it. Nobody else ever called +the good clergyman by it. But Nell was something +between a daughter and a wife to the hard +working Doctor Stanley. And she certainly was +a thoughtful and “mothering” sister to the little +ones.</p> +<p>“But,” Nell added, “you are too late inviting +me to the eats, Amy, honey. It can’t be done. +I’m promised. Mr. Brandon and his wife saw +me first, and I am to dine with them. Then they +are going to take me in their car out to the Parkville +home of their daughter—Oh, say! If your +radio isn’t finished, Jess, why can’t you and Amy +come with us? The Brandon car is big enough. +And they tell me Mrs. Brandon’s daughter has +got a perfectly wonderful set at her home. They +have an amplifier, and you don’t have to use +phones at all. Has your radio set got an amplifier, +Jess?”</p> +<p>“But I haven’t got it yet,” cried Jess. “I only +hope to have it.”</p> +<p>“Then you and Amy come and hear a real one,” +said Nell.</p> +<p>“If the Brandons won’t mind. Will they?”</p> +<p>“You know they are the loveliest people,” said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +Nell briskly. “Mrs. Brandon told me to invite +some young friends. But I hadn’t thought of +doing so. But I must have you and Amy. We’ll +be along for you girls at about seven-forty-five, +new time.”</p> +<p>“Then we must hurry,” declared Jess, as the +minister’s daughter ran away.</p> +<p>“I’m getting interested,” announced Amy. “Is +this radio business like a talking machine?”</p> +<p>“Only better,” said her chum. “Come on. I +know several of the little books I want to get. +I wrote down the names.”</p> +<p>They dived down the four steps into the basement +bookshop. It was a fine place to browse, +when one had an hour to spare. But the chums +from Roselawn were not in browsing mood on +this occasion.</p> +<p>They knew exactly what they wanted—at least, +Jessie Norwood did—and somewhat to their surprise +right near the front door of the shop was +a “radio table.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, young ladies,” said the clerk who +came to wait upon them only when he saw that +they had made their selections, “we have quite a +call for books on that topic. It is becoming a fad, +and quite wonderful, too. I have thought some +of buying a radio set myself.”</p> +<p>“We’re going to build one,” declared Amy with +her usual prompt assurance. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span></p> +<p>“Are you? You two girls? Well, I don’t +know why you shouldn’t. Lots of boys are doing +so.”</p> +<p>“And anything a boy can do a girl ought to do +a little better,” Amy added.</p> +<p>The clerk laughed as he wrapped up the several +books Jessie had charged to her father’s account. +“You let me know how you get on building +it, will you?” he said. “Maybe I can get some +ideas from your experience.”</p> +<p>“We’ll show ’em!” declared Amy, all in a glow +of excitement. “And why do you suppose, Jess, +folks always have to suggest that girls can’t do +what boys can? Isn’t it ridiculous!”</p> +<p>“Very,” agreed Jessie. “Although, just as I +pointed out a while ago, it would have been handy +if Darry or Burd had been with us when we saw +that poor girl kidnaped.”</p> +<p>“Of course! But, then, those boys are college +men.” She giggled. “And I wager Burd is a +sea-sick college man just now.”</p> +<p>“Oh! Have they gone out in the <i>Marigold</i>?” +cried Jessie.</p> +<p>“They left New Haven the minute they could +get away and joined the yacht at Groton, over +across from New London, where it has been tied +up all winter. Father insisted that Darry +shouldn’t touch the yacht, when Uncle Will died +and left it to him last fall, until the college year +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +was ended. We got a marconigram last night +that they had passed Block Island going out. And +<i>now</i>—well, Burd never was at sea before, you +know,” and Amy laughed again.</p> +<p>“It has been rather windy. I suppose it must +be rough out in the ocean. Oh, Amy!” Jess +suddenly exclaimed, “if I get my radio rigged +why can’t we communicate with the <i>Marigold</i> +when it is at sea?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know just why you can’t. But I guess +the wireless rigging on the yacht isn’t like this +radio thing you are going to set up. They use +some sort of telegraph alphabet.”</p> +<p>“I know,” declared Jessie with conviction. +“I’ll tell Darry to put in a regular sending set—like +the one I hope to have, if father will let me. +And we can have our two sets tuned so that we +can hear each other speak.”</p> +<p>“My goodness! You don’t mean it is as easy +as all that?” cried Amy.</p> +<p>“Didn’t you read that magazine article?” demanded +her chum. “And didn’t the man say that, +pretty soon, we could carry receiving and sending +sets in our pockets—maybe—and stop right on +the street and send or receive any news we +wanted to?”</p> +<p>“No, I sha’n’t,” declared Amy. “Pockets +spoil the set of even a sports skirt. Where you +going now?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></p> +<p>“In here. Mr. Brill sells electrical supplies as +well as hardware. Oh! Amy Drew! There is a +radio set in his window! I declare, New Melford +is advancing in strides!”</p> +<p>“Sure! In seven league boots,” murmured +Amy, following her friend into the store.</p> +<p>Jessie had noted down the things she thought +it would be safe to order before speaking to her +father about the radio matter. Mrs. Norwood +had cheerfully given her consent. Amy had once +said that if Jessie went to her mother and asked if +she could have a pet plesiosaurus, Mrs. Norwood +would say:</p> +<p>“Of course, you may, dear. But don’t bring it +into the house when its feet are wet.”</p> +<p>For the antenna and lead-in and ground wires, +Jessie purchased three hundred feet of copper +wire, number fourteen. The lightning switch Mr. +Brill had among his electric fixtures—merely a +porcelain base, thirty ampere, single pole double +throw battery switch. She also obtained the +necessary porcelain insulators and tubes.</p> +<p>She knew there would be plenty of rope in the +Norwood barn or the garage for their need in +erecting the aerials. But she bought a small +pulley as well as the ground connections which +Mr. Brill had in stock. He was anxious to sell +her a complete set like that he was exhibiting in +the show window; but Jessie would not go any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +farther than to order the things enumerated and +ask to have them sent over the next morning.</p> +<p>The girls hurried home when they had done +this, for it was verging on dinner time and they +did not want to miss going with Nell Stanley and +the Brandons to Parkville for the radio entertainment. +Mr. Norwood was at home, and +Jessie flew at him a good deal like an eager Newfoundland +puppy.</p> +<p>“It is the most wonderful thing!” she declared, +as she had introduced the subject to her chum.</p> +<p>She kept up the radio talk all through dinner. +She was so interested that for the time being she +forgot all about the girl that had been carried +away in the automobile. Mr. Norwood had not +been much interested in the new science; but he +promised to talk the matter over with Momsy +after their daughter had gone to the radio +concert.</p> +<p>“Anyhow,” said Jessie, “I’ve bought the books +telling how to rig it. And we’re going to do it +all ourselves—Amy and I. And Mr. Brill is +going to send up some wire and things. Of +course, if you won’t let me have it, I’ll just have +to pay for the hardware out of my allowance.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” her father said with gravity. +“Maybe Chapman can find some use for the hardware +if we don’t decide to build a radio station.”</p> +<p>As they seldom forbade their daughter anything +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +that was not positively harmful, however, +there was not much danger that Jessie’s allowance +would be depleted by paying a share of the +monthly hardware bill. Anyhow, Jessie as well +as Amy, went off very gayly in the Brandon car +with the minister’s daughter. Mr. Brandon drove +his own car, and the girls sat in the tonneau with +Mrs. Brandon, who did not seem by any means +a very old lady, even if she was a grandmother.</p> +<p>“But grandmothers nowadays aren’t crippled +up with rheumatism and otherwise decrepit,” +declared Amy, the gay. “You know, I think it is +rather nice to be a grandmother these days. I +am going to matriculate for the position just as +soon as I can.”</p> +<p>They rolled out of town, and just as they turned +off the boulevard to take another road to Parkville, +a big car passed the Brandon automobile +coming into town. It was being driven very rapidly, +but very skillfully, and the car was empty +save for the driver.</p> +<p>“What beautiful cars those French cars are,” +Mrs. Brandon said.</p> +<p>“Did you see her, Jess?” cried Amy, excitedly. +“Look at her go!”</p> +<p>“Do you speak of the car or the lady?” laughed +Nell Stanley.</p> +<p>“She is no lady, I’d have you know,” Amy rejoined +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +scornfully. “Didn’t you know her when +she passed, Jess?”</p> +<p>“I thought it was the car,” her chum admitted. +“Are you sure that was the woman who ran off +with the girl?”</p> +<p>“One of them,” declared Amy, with confidence. +“And how she can drive!”</p> +<p>Naturally Mrs. Brandon and Nell wished to +know the particulars of the chums’ adventure. +But none of them knew who the strange woman +who drove the French car was.</p> +<p>“She is not at all nice, at any rate,” Jessie said +emphatically. “I really wish there was some way +of finding out about that girl they carried off, and +what became of her.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>Stringing the Aerials</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_STRINGING_THE_AERIALS' id='CHAPTER_IV_STRINGING_THE_AERIALS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>STRINGING THE AERIALS</h3> +</div> +<p>Parkville was reached within a short +time. It was still early evening. The girls +from Roselawn and their host and hostess +found a number of neighbors already gathered +in the drawing-room, to listen to the entertainments +broadcasted from several radio stations.</p> +<p>They were too late for the bedtime story; but +from the cabinet-grand, like an expensive talking +machine, the slurring notes of a jazz orchestra +greeted their ears as plainly as though it were +coming from a neighboring room instead of a +broadcasting station many miles away. Amy confessed +that it made her feet itch. She loved to +dance.</p> +<p>There was singing to follow, a really good +quartette. Then a humorist told some of his own +funny stories and an elocutionist recited a bit from +Shakespeare effectively. The band played a popular +air and the amused audience began singing the +song. It was fine!</p> +<p>“I’m just as excited as I can be,” whispered +Jessie to Nell and Amy. “Isn’t it better than our +talking machine? Why! it is almost like hearing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +the real people right in the room. And an amplifier +of this kind is not scratchy one bit.”</p> +<p>“There is no static to-night,” said Mr. Brandon, +who overheard the enthusiastic girl. “But it +is not always so clear.”</p> +<p>Jessie and Amy were too excited over this new +amusement to heed anything that suggested “a fly +in the ointment.” When they drove home they +were so full of radio that they chattered like +magpies.</p> +<p>“I would put up the aerials and get a set myself,” +Nell declared, “only we don’t really need +any more talking machines of any kind at our +house. Dear me! I sometimes wonder how the +Reverend can write his sermons, there is so much +noise and talk all the time. I have tacked felt all +around his study door to try to make it sound-proof. +But when Bob comes in he bangs the outer +door until you are reminded of the Black Tom +explosion. And Fred never comes downstairs +save on his stomach—and on the banisters—and +lands on the doormat like a load of brick out of +a dumpcart. Then Sally squeals so!” She sighed.</p> +<p>“Nell Stanley,” Amy said, “certainly has her +own troubles.”</p> +<p>“I do not see how the doctor stands it,” commented +Mrs. Brandon sympathetically.</p> +<p>“The Reverend is the greatest man in the +world,” declared Nell, with conviction. “He is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +wonderful. He takes the most annoying things +so composedly. Why, you remember when he +went to Bridgeton a month ago to speak at the +local Sunday School Union? Something awfully +funny happened. It would have floored any man +but the Reverend.”</p> +<p>“What happened?” asked Amy. “I bet it was +a joke. Your father, Nell, always tells the most +delightful stories.”</p> +<p>“This isn’t a story. It is so,” chuckled Nell. +“But I suppose that was why they asked him to +amuse and entertain the little folks at one session +of the Union. Father talked for fifteen minutes, +all about Jacob’s ladder, and those old stories. +And not a kid of ’em went to sleep.</p> +<p>“He said he was proud to see them so wide +awake, and when he was closing he thought he +would find out if they really had been attentive. +So he said:</p> +<p>“‘And now, is there any little boy or any little +girl who would like to ask me a question?’</p> +<p>“And one boy called out: ‘Say, Mister, if the +angels had wings why did they walk up and down +Jacob’s ladder?’”</p> +<p>“Mercy!” ejaculated Mrs. Brandon. “What +could he say?”</p> +<p>“That is it. You can’t catch the Reverend,” +laughed Nell, proudly. “And nothing ever confuses +him or puts him out. He just said: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span></p> +<p>“‘Oh, ah, yes, I see. And now, is there any +little boy or any little girl who would like to +answer that question?’ And he bowed and +slipped out.”</p> +<p>The laughter over this incident brought them +into Roselawn, where Jessie and Amy got out, +after thanking the kindly Brandons for the evening’s +pleasure. Nell lived a little further along, +and went on with Mr. and Mrs. Brandon.</p> +<p>“If I can find the time,” called Nell Stanley, as +the car started again, “I am coming over to see +how you rig your aerials, Jessie.”</p> +<p>“If I am allowed to,” commented Jessie, with a +sudden fear that perhaps her father would find +some objection to the new amusement.</p> +<p>But this small fear was immediately dissipated +when she ran in after bidding Amy good-night. +She found her father and mother both in the +library. The package of radio books had been +opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Norwood was each +reading interestedly one of the pamphlets Jessie +had chosen at the bookshop.</p> +<p>The three spent an hour discussing the new +“plaything,” as Mr. Norwood insisted upon calling +it. But he agreed to everything his daughter +wanted to do, and even promised to buy Jessie a +better receiving set than Brill, the hardware man, +was carrying.</p> +<p>“As far as I can see, however, from what I read +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +here,” said Mr. Norwood, “a better set will make +no difference in your plans for stringing the +aerials. You and Amy can go right ahead.”</p> +<p>“Oh, but, Robert,” said Mrs. Norwood, “do +you think the two girls can do that work?”</p> +<p>“Why not? Of course Jessie and Amy can. +If they need any help they can ask one of the men—the +chauffeur or the gardener, or somebody.”</p> +<p>“We are going to do it all ourselves!” cried +Jessie, eagerly. “This is going to be our very +owniest own radio. You’ll see. We’ll put the +set upstairs in my room.”</p> +<p>“Wouldn’t you rather have it downstairs—in +the drawing-room, for instance?” asked her +mother.</p> +<p>“I know you, Momsy. You’ll be showing it off +to all your friends. And pretty soon it will be +the family radio instead of mine.”</p> +<p>Mr. Norwood laughed. “I read here that the +ordinary aerials will do very well for a small +instrument or a large. It is suggested, too, that +patents are pending that may make outside aerials +unnecessary, anyway. Don’t you mind, Momsy. +If we find we want a nice, big set for our +drawing-room, we’ll have it in spite of Jessie. +And we’ll use her aerials, too.”</p> +<p>The next day Brill sent up the things Jessie had +purchased, but the girls could not begin the actual +stringing of the copper wires until the morning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +following. Ample study of the directions for the +work printed in the books Jessie had selected +made the chums confident that they knew just +what to do.</p> +<p>The windows of Jessie’s room on the second +floor of the Norwood house were not much more +than seventy-five feet from the corner of an ornamental +tower that housed the private electric plant +belonging to the place. It was a tank tower, and +water and light had been furnished to the entire +premises from this tower before the city plants +had extended their service out Bonwit Boulevard +and through Roselawn.</p> +<p>Jessie’s room had been the nursery when +Jessie was little. It was now a lovely, comfortable +apartment, decorated in pearl gray and pink, with +willow furniture and cushions covered with lovely +cretonne, an open fireplace in which real logs could +be burned in the winter, and pictures of the girl’s +own selection.</p> +<p>Her books were here. And all her personal +possessions, including tennis rackets, riding whip +and spurs, canoe paddle, and even a bag of golf +sticks, were arranged in “Jessie’s room.” Out of +it opened her bedroom and bath. It was a big +room, too, and if the radio was successful they +could entertain twenty guests here if they +wanted to.</p> +<p>“But, of course, father is getting a set with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +phones, not with an amplifier like that one out at +Parkville,” Jessie explained to her chum. “If we +want to use a horn afterward, we may. Now, +Amy, do you understand what there is to do?”</p> +<p>“Sure. We’ve got to get out our farmerette +costumes. You know, those we used in the school +gardens two years ago.”</p> +<p>“Oh, fine! I never would have thought of +that,” crowed Jessie.</p> +<p>“Leave it to your Aunt Amy. She’s the wise +old bird,” declared Amy. “I always did like +those overalls. If I climb a ladder I don’t want +any skirt to bother me. If the ladder begins to +slip I want a chance to slide down like a man. Do +the ‘Fireman, save my cheeld’ act.”</p> +<p>“You are as lucid as usual,” confessed her +chum. Then she went on to explain: “I have +found rope enough in the barn for our purpose—new +rope. We will attach the end of the aerial +wires with the rope to the roof of the old tower. +It will enable us to make the far end of the aerials +higher than my window—you see?”</p> +<p>“Necessary point; I observe. Go ahead, Miss +Seymour.”</p> +<p>“Please don’t call me ‘Miss Seymour,’” objected +Jessie, frowning. “For the poor thing has +a wart on her nose.”</p> +<p>“No use at all there. Not even as a collar-button,” +declared Amy. “All right; you are not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +Miss Seymour. And, come to think of it, I wonder +if it was Miss Seymour I was thinking of last +night when I thought that woman driving the kidnappers’ +car looked like somebody I knew? Do +you think––?”</p> +<p>“Oh! That horrid woman! I don’t dislike +Miss Seymour, you know, Amy, even if she does +teach English. I think she is almost handsome +beside that motor-car driver. Yes, I do.”</p> +<p>“Wart and all?” murmured Amy.</p> +<p>But they were both too deeply interested in the +radio to linger long on other matters. They laid +out the work for the next morning, but did nothing +practical toward erecting the wires and attendant +parts that day. Amy came over immediately +after breakfast, dressed in her farmerette costume, +which was, in truth, a very practical suit +in which to work.</p> +<p>The girls even refused the help of the gardener. +He said they would be unable to raise the heavy +ladder to the tower window; and that was a fact.</p> +<p>“All right,” said the practical Jessie, “then we +won’t use the ladder.”</p> +<p>“My! I am not tall enough to reach the things +up to you from the ground, Jess,” drawled Amy.</p> +<p>“Silly!” laughed her friend. “I am going up +there to the top window in the tower. I can stand +on the window sill and drive in the hook, and hang +the aerial from there. See! We’ve got it all fixed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +on the ground here. I’ll haul it up with another +rope. You stay down here and tie it on. You’ll +see.”</p> +<p>“Well, don’t fall,” advised Amy. “The ground +is hard.”</p> +<p>It had been no easy matter for the two girls to +construct their aerial. The wire persisted in +getting twisted and they had all they could do to +keep it from kinking. Then, too, they wanted to +fasten the porcelain insulators just right and had +to consult one of the books several times. Then +there came more trouble over the lead-in wire, +which should have been soldered to the aerial but +was only twisted tight instead.</p> +<p>The girls worked all the forenoon. When one +end of the aerial was attached properly to the +tower, Amy ran in and upstairs to her chum’s +room and dropped a length of rope from one of +the windows. Jessie came down from her perch +and attached the house-end of the aerial to the +rope. When Amy had the latter hauled up and +fastened to a hook driven into the outside frame +of Jessie’s window, the antenna was complete.</p> +<p>At that (and it sounds easy, but isn’t) they got +it twisted and had to lower the house-end of the +aerial again. While they were thus engaged, a +taxi-cab stopped out in front. Amy, leaning from +her chum’s window, almost fell out in her sudden +excitement. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></p> +<p>“Oh, Jess! They’ve come!” she shouted.</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” demanded Jessie. “We +were not expecting anybody, were we?”</p> +<p>“You weren’t, but I was. I forgot to tell you,” +cried Amy. “They just went around Long +Island and came up the East River and through +Hell Gate and got a mooring at the Yacht Club, +off City Island.”</p> +<p>“Who are you talking about?” gasped her +chum, wonderingly.</p> +<p>“Darry––”</p> +<p>“Darry!” ejaculated Jessie with mixed emotions. +She glanced down at her overalls. She +was old enough to want to look her best when +Darrington Drew was on the scene. “Darry!” +she murmured again.</p> +<p>“Yes. And Burd Alling. They telephoned +early this morning. But I forgot. Here they +come, Jess!”</p> +<p>Jessie Norwood turned rather slowly to look. +She felt a strong desire to run into the house and +make a quick change of costume.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>The Freckle-Faced Girl</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_THE_FRECKLEFACED_GIRL' id='CHAPTER_V_THE_FRECKLEFACED_GIRL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>THE FRECKLE-FACED GIRL</h3> +</div> +<p>Of the two young fellows hurrying in from +the boulevard one was tall and slim and +dark; the other was stocky—almost +plump, in fact—and sandy of complexion, with +sharp, twinkling pond-blue eyes. Burdwell +Alling’s eyes were truly the only handsome feature +he possessed. But he had a wonderfully +sweet disposition.</p> +<p>Darry Drew was one of those quiet, gentlemanly +fellows, who seem rather too sober for +their years. Yet he possessed humor enough, and +there certainly was no primness about him. It +was he who hailed Jessie on the ground and Amy +leaning out of the window above:</p> +<p>“I say, fellows! Have you seen a couple of +young ladies around here who have just finished +their junior year at the New Melford High with +flying colors? We expected to find them sitting +high and dry on the front porch, ready to receive +company.”</p> +<p>“Sure we did,” added Burd Alling. “They +have taken the highest degree in Prunes and +Prisms and have been commended by their instructors +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +for excellent deportment. And among all +the calicos, they are supposed to take the bun as +prudes.”</p> +<p>Amy actually almost fell out of the window +again, and stuck out her tongue like an impudent +urchin. “A pair of smarties,” she scoffed. +“Come home and fret our ears with your college +slang. How dare you!”</p> +<p>“I declare! Is that Miss Amy Drew?” demanded +Burd, sticking a half dollar in his eye +like a monocle and apparently observing Amy for +the first time.</p> +<p>“It is not,” said Amy sharply. “Brush by! I +don’t speak to strange young men.”</p> +<p>But Darry had come to Jessie and shaken +hands. If she flushed self-consciously, it only +improved her looks.</p> +<p>“Awfully glad to see you, Jess,” the tall young +fellow said.</p> +<p>“It’s nice to have you home again, Darry,” +she returned.</p> +<p>Amy ran down again then, in her usual harum-scarum +fashion, and the conversation became general. +How had the girls finished their high-school +year? And how had the boys managed to stay a +whole year at Yale without being asked to leave +for the good of the undergraduate body?</p> +<p>Was the <i>Marigold</i> a real yacht, or just a row-boat +with a kicker behind? And what were the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +girls doing in their present fetching costumes?</p> +<p>“The wires!” cried Burd. “Is it a trapeze? +Are we to have a summer circus in Roselawn?”</p> +<p>“We shall have if you remain around here,” +was Amy’s saucy reply. “But yon is no trapeze, +I’d have you know.”</p> +<p>“A slack wire? Who walks it—you or Jess?”</p> +<p>“Aw, Burd!” ejaculated Darry. “It’s radio. +Don’t you recognize an aerial when you see it?”</p> +<p>“You have a fine ground connection,” scoffed +Burd.</p> +<p>“Don’t you worry about us,” Jessie took heart +to say. “We know just what to do. Go upstairs +again, Amy, and haul up this end of the contraption. +I’ve got it untwisted.”</p> +<p>A little later, when the aerial was secure and +Jessie went practically to work affixing the ground +connection, Darrington Drew said:</p> +<p>“Why, I believe you girls do know what you +are about.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you suppose we girls know anything at +all, Darry?” demanded his sister from overhead. +“You boys have very little on us.”</p> +<p>“Don’t even want us to help you?” handsome +Darry asked, grinning up at her.</p> +<p>“Not unless you approach the matter with the +proper spirit,” Jessie put in. “No lofty, high-and-mighty +way goes with us girls. We can be +met only on a plane of equality. But if you want +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +to,” she added, smiling, “you can go up to my +room where Amy is and pull that rope tauter. I +admit that your masculine muscles have their +uses.”</p> +<p>They were still having a lot of fun out of the +securing of the aerials when suddenly Burd Alling +discovered a figure planted on the gravel behind +him. He swept off his cap in an elaborate bow, +and cried:</p> +<p>“We have company! Introduce me, Amy—Jess. +This young lady––”</p> +<p>“Smarty!” croaked a hoarse voice. “I don’t +want to be introducted to nobody. I want to +know if you’ve seen Bertha.”</p> +<p>“Big Bertha?” began Burd, who was as much +determined on joking as Amy herself.</p> +<p>But Jessie Norwood, her attention drawn to the +freckle-faced child who stood there so composedly, +motioned Burd to halt. She approached and +in her usual kindly manner asked what the strange +child wanted.</p> +<p>It really was difficult to look soberly at the +little thing. She might have been twelve years +old, but she was so slight and undernourished +looking that it was hard to believe she had reached +that age. She had no more color than putty. +And her sharp little face was so bespatted with +freckles that one could scarcely see what its real +expression was. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></p> +<p>“Bertha who?” Jessie asked quietly. “What +Bertha are you looking for?”</p> +<p>“Cousin Bertha. She’s an orphan like me,” +said the freckled little girl. “I ain’t got anybody +that belongs to me but Bertha; and Bertha +ain’t got anybody that belongs to her but +me.”</p> +<p>Burd and Amy were still inclined to be amused. +But Darry Drew took his cue from Jessie, if he +did not find a sympathetic cord touched in his own +nature by the child’s speech and her forlorn appearance.</p> +<p>For she was forlorn. She wore no denim uniform, +such as Amy had mentioned on a previous +occasion as being the mark of the usual “orphan.” +But it was quite plain that the freckle-faced girl +had nobody to care much for her, or about her.</p> +<p>“I wish you would explain a little more, dear,” +said Jessie, kindly. “Why did you come here to +ask for your Cousin Bertha?”</p> +<p>“’Cause I’m asking at every house along this +street. I told Mrs. Foley I would, and she said +I was a little fool,” and the child made the statement +quite as a matter of course.</p> +<p>“Who is Mrs. Foley?”</p> +<p>“She’s the lady I help. When Mom died Mrs. +Foley lived in the next tenement. She took me. +She brought me out here to Dogtown when she +moved.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></p> +<p>“Why,” breathed Amy, with a shudder, “she’s +one of those awful Dogtown children.”</p> +<p>“Put a stopper on that, Amy!” exclaimed +Darry, promptly.</p> +<p>But the freckle-faced girl heard her. She +glared at the older girl—the girl so much better +situated than herself. Her pale eyes snapped.</p> +<p>“You don’t haf to touch me,” she said sharply. +“I won’t poison you.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Amy!” murmured her chum.</p> +<p>But Amy Drew was not at all bad at heart, +or intentionally unkind. She flamed redly and +the tears sprang to her eyes.</p> +<p>“Oh! I didn’t mean—Forgive me, little girl! +What is your name? I’ll help you find your +cousin.”</p> +<p>“My name’s Henrietta. They call me Hen. +You needn’t mind gushin’ over me. I know how +you feel. I’d feel just the same if I wore your +clo’es and you wore mine.”</p> +<p>“By ginger!” exclaimed Burd Alling, under his +breath. “There is philosophy for you.”</p> +<p>But Jessie felt hurt that Amy should have +spoken so thoughtlessly about the strange child. +She took Henrietta’s grimy hand and led the +freckled girl to the side steps where they could +sit down.</p> +<p>“Now tell me about Bertha and why you are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +looking for her along Bonwit Boulevard,” said +Jessie.</p> +<p>“Do you wear these pants all the time?” asked +Henrietta, suddenly, smoothing Jessie’s overalls. +“I believe I’d like to wear ’em, too. They are +something like little Billy Foley’s rompers.”</p> +<p>“I don’t wear them all the time,” said Jessie, +patiently. “But about Bertha?”</p> +<p>“She’s my cousin. She lived with us before +Mom died. She went away to work. Something +happened there where she worked. I guess I +don’t know what it was. But Bertha wrote to +me—I can read written letters,” added the child +proudly. “Bertha said she was coming out to see +me this week. And she didn’t come.”</p> +<p>“But why should you think––”</p> +<p>“Lemme tell you,” said Henrietta eagerly. +“That woman that hired Bertha came to Foleys +day before yesterday trying to find Bertha. She +said Bertha’d run away from her. But Bertha +had a right to run away. Didn’t she?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. I suppose so. Unless the +woman had adopted her, or something,” confessed +Jessie, rather puzzled.</p> +<p>“Bertha wasn’t no more adopted than I am. +Mrs. Foley ain’t adopted me. I wouldn’t want +to be a Foley. And if you are adopted you have +to take the name of the folks you live with. So +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +Bertha wasn’t adopted, and she had a right to run +away. But she didn’t get to Dogtown.”</p> +<p>“But you think she might have come this way?”</p> +<p>“Yep. She’s never been to see me since we +moved to Dogtown. So she maybe lost her way. +Or she saw that woman and was scared. I’m looking +to see if anybody seen her,” said the child, getting +up briskly. “I guess you folks ain’t, has +you?”</p> +<p>“I am afraid not,” said Jessie thoughtfully. +“But we will be on the lookout for her, honey. +You can come back again and ask me any time +you like.”</p> +<p>The freckle-faced child looked her over curiously. +“What do you say that for?” she demanded. +“You don’t like me. I ain’t pretty. +And you’re pretty—and that other girl,” (she said +this rather grudgingly) “even if you do wear overalls.”</p> +<p>“Why! I want to help you,” said Jessie, somewhat +startled by the strange girl’s downright way +of speaking.</p> +<p>“You got a job for me up here?” asked Henrietta +promptly. “I guess I’d rather work for you +than for the Foleys.”</p> +<p>“Don’t the Foleys treat you kindly?” Amy ventured, +really feeling an interest in the strange +child.</p> +<p>“Guess she treats me as kind as a lady can when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +she’s got six kids and a man that drinks,” Henrietta +said with weariness. “But I’d like to wear +better clo’es. I wouldn’t mind even wearing them +overall things while I worked if I had better to +wear other times.”</p> +<p>She looked down at her faded gingham, the +patched stockings, the broken shoes. She wore +no hat. Really, she was a miserable-looking little +thing, and the four more fortunate young people +all considered this fact silently as Henrietta moved +slowly away and went down the path to the street.</p> +<p>“Come and see me again, Henrietta!” Jessie +called after her.</p> +<p>The freckled child nodded. But she did not +look around. Darry said rather soberly:</p> +<p>“Too bad about the kid. We ought to do +something for her.”</p> +<p>“To begin with, a good, soapy bath,” said his +sister, vigorously, but not unkindly.</p> +<p>“She’s the limit,” chuckled Burd. “Hen is some +bird, I’ll say!”</p> +<p>“I wonder––” began Jessie, but Amy broke +in with:</p> +<p>“To think of her hunting up and down the +boulevard for her cousin. And she didn’t even tell +us what Bertha looked like or how old she is, or +anything. My!”</p> +<p>“I wonder if we ought not to have asked her +for more particulars,” murmured Jessie. “It is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +strange we should hear of another girl that had +run away––”</p> +<p>But the others paid no attention at the moment +to what Jessie was saying. It was plain that Amy +did not at all comprehend what her chum considered. +The lively one had forgotten altogether +about the unknown girl she and Jessie had seen +borne away in the big French car.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>Something Coming</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_SOMETHING_COMING' id='CHAPTER_VI_SOMETHING_COMING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>SOMETHING COMING</h3> +</div> +<p>That afternoon Mr. Norwood brought +home the radio receiving set in the automobile. +The two girls, with a very little +help, but a plethora of suggestion from Darry +and Burd, proceeded to establish the set on a +table in Jessie’s room, and attach the lead-in wire +and the ground wire.</p> +<p>Jessie had bought a galena crystal mounted, as +that was more satisfactory, the book said. After +all the parts of the radio set had been assembled +and the connections made, the first essential operation, +if they were to make use of the invention at +once, was to adjust the tiny piece of wire—the +“cat’s whisker”—which lightly rests on the crystal-detector, +to a sensitive point.</p> +<p>Jessie, who had read the instruction book carefully, +knew that this adjustment might be made +in several different ways. One satisfactory way +is by the use of a miniature buzzer transmitter.</p> +<p>“What are we going to hear?” Amy demanded +eagerly. “How you going to tune her, Jess?”</p> +<p>“As there are only three sets of head phones,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +grumbled Burd, “one of us is bound to be a step-child.”</p> +<p>“We can take turns,” Jessie said, eagerly. +“What time is it, Darry?”</p> +<p>“It points to eight, Jess.”</p> +<p>“Then there is a concert about to start at that +station not more than thirty miles away from here. +We ought to hear that fine,” declared the hostess +of the party.</p> +<p>“What is the wave length?” Amy asked.</p> +<p>“Three-sixty. We can easily get it,” and Jessie +adjusted the buzzer a little, the phones at her +ears.</p> +<p>Eagerly they settled down to listen in. At +least, three of them listened. Darry said he felt +like the fifth wheel of an automobile—the one +lashed on behind.</p> +<p>“I shall have to get an amplifier—a horn,” +Jessie murmured.</p> +<p>At first she heard only a funny scratchy sound; +then a murmur, growing louder, as she tuned the +instrument to the required wave length. The +murmurous sound grew louder—more distinct. +Amy squealed right out loud! For it seemed as +though somebody had said in her ear:</p> +<p>“—and will be followed by the Sextette from +Lucia. I thank you.”</p> +<p>“We’re just in time,” said Burd. “They are +going to begin the concert.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span></p> +<p>String music, reaching their ears so wonderfully, +hushed their speech. But Darry got close +to his sister, stretching his ear, too, to distinguish +the sounds. The introduction to the famous composition +was played brilliantly, then the voices of +the singers traveled to the little group in Jessie +Norwood’s room from the broadcasting station +thirty miles away.</p> +<p>“Isn’t it wonderful! Wonderful!” murmured +Amy.</p> +<p>“Sh!” admonished her chum.</p> +<p>When the number was ended, Burd Alling removed +his head-harness and gravely shook hands +with Jessie.</p> +<p>“Some calico, you are,” he declared. “Don’t +ever go to college, Jess. It will spoil your initiative.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t call me by your slang terms. +‘Calico,’ indeed!” exclaimed Jessie. “Calico +hasn’t been worn since long before the war.”</p> +<p>“You might at least call us ‘ginghams,’” sniffed +Amy.</p> +<p>“Wait!” commanded Jessie. “Here comes +something else. You take my ear-tabs, Darry.”</p> +<p>“Wait a moment,” cried Amy, who still had +her phones to her ears. Then she groaned horribly. +“It’s a lecture! Oh! Merciful Moses’ +aunt! Here! You listen in, Darry!”</p> +<p>“What’s it all about?” asked her brother. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></p> +<p>“A talk on ‘The Home Beautiful,’” giggled +Burd, “by One of the Victims. Come on, Darry. +You may have my phones too.”</p> +<p>As all three seemed perfectly willing to let him +have their listening paraphernalia, Darry refused. +“Your unanimity is poisonous,” he said. “The +Greeks bearing gifts.”</p> +<p>“Let’s get a rain check for this,” suggested +Burd.</p> +<p>“It will last only twenty minutes, according to +the schedule,” Jessie said, with a sigh. It was +such a fine plaything that she disliked giving it up +for a minute.</p> +<p>They talked, on all kinds of subjects. The +boys had had no time before to tell the girls about +the <i>Marigold</i>. Just such another craft it was evident +had never come off the ways!</p> +<p>“And it is big enough to take out a party of a +dozen,” Darry declared. “Some time this summer +we are going to get up a nice crowd and sail +as far as Bar Harbor—maybe.”</p> +<p>“Why not to the Bahamas, Darry?” drawled +his sister.</p> +<p>“And there, too,” said Darry, stoutly. “Oh, +the <i>Marigold</i> is a seaworthy craft. We are going +down to Atlantic Highlands in her next. Burd’s +got a crush on a girl who is staying there for the +summer,” and he said it wickedly, grinning at his +sister. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></p> +<p>“Sure,” his chum agreed quickly, before Amy’s +tart tongue could comment. “She’s my maiden +aunt, and I’ve got a lot of things to thank her +for.”</p> +<p>“And she can’t read writing, so we have to go +to see her,” chuckled Darry.</p> +<p>“Send us a snapshot of her, Darry,” begged +Jessie, not unwilling to tease her chum, for it was +usually Amy who did the teasing.</p> +<p>“I should worry if Burd has a dozen maiden +aunts,” observed Amy scornfully, “and they all +knitted him red wristlets!”</p> +<p>“How savage,” groaned Darry. “Red wristlets, +no less!”</p> +<p>The girls had news to relate to the boys as +well. The church society was going to have a +summer bazaar on the Fourth of July and a prize +had been offered by the committee in charge for +the most novel suggestion for a money-making +“stunt” at the lawn party.</p> +<p>“I hope they will make enough to pay Doctor +Stanley’s salary,” Darry said.</p> +<p>“We want to raise his salary,” Jessie told him. +“With all those children I don’t see how he gets +on.”</p> +<p>“He wouldn’t ‘get on’ at all if it wasn’t for +Nell,” said Amy warmly. “She is a wonderful +manager.”</p> +<p>The boys departed for City Island and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +<i>Marigold</i> the next morning; but they promised +to return from their trip to Atlantic Highlands +in season for the church bazaar.</p> +<p>For the next few days Jessie and Amy were +busy almost all day long, and evening too, with the +radio. They even listened to the weather predictions +and the agricultural report and market +prices!</p> +<p>The Norwood home never had been so popular +before. People, especially Jessie’s school +friends, were coming to the house constantly to +look at the radio set and to “listen in” on the +airways. The interest they all took in it was amusing.</p> +<p>“You see, Momsy,” laughed Jessie, when she +and her mother were alone one day, “if my radio +set were downstairs here, I wouldn’t have much +use of it. Even old Mrs. Grimsby has been in +twice to talk about it, and yesterday she came upstairs +to try it.”</p> +<p>“But she won’t have one in her house,” Mrs. +Norwood said. “I don’t know—I didn’t think +of it before, Jessie. But do you suppose it is +safe?”</p> +<p>“Suppose what is safe, dear?”</p> +<p>“Having all those wires outside the house? +Mrs. Grimsby says she would not risk it.”</p> +<p>“Why not, for mercy’s sake?” cried Jessie.</p> +<p>“Lightning. When we had a shower yesterday +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +I was really frightened. Those wires might draw +lightning.”</p> +<p>“But, <i>dear!</i>” gasped Jessie. “Didn’t I show +you the lightning switch?”</p> +<p>“Yes, child. I told Mrs. Grimsby about that. +Do you know what she said?”</p> +<p>“Something funny, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“She said she wouldn’t trust a little thing like +that to turn God’s lightning if He wanted to strike +this house.”</p> +<p>“O-oh!” gasped Jessie. “What a dreadful idea +she must have of the Creator. I’m going to tell +Doctor Stanley that.”</p> +<p>“I guess the good doctor has labored with Mrs. +Grimsby more than once regarding her harsh +doctrinal beliefs. However, the fact that such +wires may draw lightning cannot be gainsaid.”</p> +<p>“Oh, dear, me! I hope you won’t worry +Momsy. It can’t be so, or there would be something +about it in the radio papers and in those +books. In one place I saw it stated that the aerials +were really preventative of lightning striking +the house.”</p> +<p>“I know. They used to have lightning rods on +houses, especially in the country. But it was found +to be a good deal of a fallacy. I guess, after all, +Mrs. Grimsby has it partly right. Human beings +cannot easily command the elements which Nature +controls.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span></p> +<p>“Seems to me we are disproving that right in +this radio business,” cried Jessie. “And it is +going to be wonderful—just <i>wonderful</i>—before +long. They say moving pictures will be transmitted +by radio; and there will be machines so +that people can speak directly back and forth, +and you’ll have a picture before you of the person +you are speaking to.”</p> +<p>She began to laugh again. “You know what +Amy says? She says she always powders her +nose before she goes to the telephone. You never +know who you may have to speak to! So she is +ready for the new invention.”</p> +<p>“Just the same, I am rather timid about the +lightning, Jessie,” her mother said.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>The Canoe Trip<br />Carter’s Ghost</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_THE_CANOE_TRIP' id='CHAPTER_VII_THE_CANOE_TRIP'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>THE CANOE TRIP</h3> +</div> +<p>Of course, Jessie Norwood and Amy Drew +did not spend all their time over the radio +set in Jessie’s room. At least, they did +not do so after the first two or three days.</p> +<p>There was not much the girls cared to hear +being broadcasted before late afternoon; so they +soon got back to normal. Not being obliged to +get off to school every day but Saturday and Sunday, +had suddenly made opportunity for many +new interests.</p> +<p>“Or, if they are not new,” Amy said decisively, +“we haven’t worn them out.”</p> +<p>“Do you think we shall wear out the radio, +honey?” asked Jessie, laughing.</p> +<p>“I don’t see how the air can be worn out. And +the radio stuff certainly comes through the air. +Or do the Hertzian waves come through the +ground, as some say?”</p> +<p>“You will have to ask some scientist who has +gone into the matter more deeply than I have,” +Jessie said demurely. “But what is this revived +interest that you want to take up?”</p> +<p>“Canoe. Let’s take a lunch and paddle away +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +down to the end of the lake. There are just +wonderful flowers there. And one of the girls +said that her brothers were over by the abandoned +Carter place and found some wild strawberries.”</p> +<p>“M-mm! I love ’em,” confessed Jessie.</p> +<p>“Better than George Washington sundaes,” +agreed her chum. “Say we go?”</p> +<p>“I’ll run tell Momsy. She can play with my +radio while we are gone,” and Jessie went downstairs +to find her mother.</p> +<p>“I tell you what,” said Amy as, with their paddles, +the girls wended their way down to the little +boathouse and landing. “Won’t it be great if they +ever get pocket radios?”</p> +<p>“Pocket radios!” exclaimed Jessie.</p> +<p>“I mean what the man said in the magazine +article we read in the first place. Don’t you remember? +About carrying some kind of a condensed +receiving set in one’s pocket—a receiving +and a broadcasting set, too.”</p> +<p>“Oh! But that is a dream.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” rejoined Amy, who had become +a thorough radio convert by this time. “It +is not so far in advance, perhaps. I see one man +has invented an umbrella aerial-receiving thing—what-you-may-call-it.”</p> +<p>“An umbrella!” gasped Jessie.</p> +<p>“Honest. He opens it and points the ferrule +in the direction of the broadcasting station he is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +tuned to. Then he connects the little radio set, +clamps on his head harness, and listens in.”</p> +<p>“It sounds almost impossible.”</p> +<p>“Of course, he doesn’t get the sounds very +loud. But he <i>hears</i>. He can go off in his automobile +and take it all with him. Or out in a boat––Say, +it would be great sport to have one in +our canoe.”</p> +<p>“You be careful how you get into it yourself +and never mind the radio,” cried Jessie, as +Amy displayed her usual carelessness in embarking.</p> +<p>“I haven’t got on a thing that water will hurt,” +declared the other girl.</p> +<p>“That’s all right. But everything you have on +can get wet. Do be still. You are like an eel!” +cried Jessie.</p> +<p>“Don’t!” rejoined Amy with a shudder. “I +loathe eels. They are so squirmy. One wound +right around my arm once when I was fishing down +the lake, and I never have forgotten the slimy +feel of it.”</p> +<p>Jessie laughed. “We won’t catch eels to-day. +I never thought about fishing, anyway. I want +strawberries, if there are any down there.”</p> +<p>Lake Monenset was not a wide body of water. +Burd Alling had said it was only as wide as “two +hoots and a holler.” Burd had spent a few weeks +in the Tennessee Mountains once, and had brought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +back some rather queer expressions that the natives +there use.</p> +<p>Lake Monenset was several miles long. The +head of it was in Roselawn at one side of the Norwood +estate and almost touched the edge of Bonwit +Boulevard. It was bordered by trees for +almost its entire length on both sides, and it was +shaped like a enormous, elongated comma.</p> +<p>The gardener at the Norwood estate and his +helper looked after the boathouse and the canoes. +The Norwood’s was not the only small estate that +verged upon the lake, but like everything else +about the Norwood place, its lake front was artistically +adorned.</p> +<p>There were rose hedges down here, too, and as +the two girls pushed out from the landing the +breath of summer air that followed them out +upon the lake was heavy with the scent of June +roses.</p> +<p>The girls were dressed in such boating costumes +as gave them the very freest movement, +and they both used the paddle skillfully. The +roomy canoe, if not built for great speed, certainly +was built for as much comfort as could be +expected in such a craft.</p> +<p>Jessie was in the bow and Amy at the stern. +They quickly “got into step,” as Amy called it, +and their paddles literally plied the lake as one. +Faster and faster the canoe sped on and very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +soon they rounded the wooded tongue of land +that hid all the long length of the lower end of +the lake.</p> +<p>“Dogtown is the only blot on the landscape,” +panted Amy, after a while. “It stands there right +where the brook empties into the lake and—and +it is unsightly. Whee!”</p> +<p>“What are you panting for, Amy?” demanded +her chum.</p> +<p>“For breath, of course,” rejoined Amy. +“Whee! You are setting an awfully fast pace, +Jess.”</p> +<p>“I believe you are getting over-fat, Amy,” declared +Jessie, solemnly.</p> +<p>“Say not so! But I did eat an awfully big +breakfast. The strawberries were so good! And +the waffles!”</p> +<p>“Yet you insisted on bringing a great shoe box +of lunch,” said her friend.</p> +<p>“Not a <i>great</i> shoe box. Please! My own shoes +came in it and I haven’t enormously big feet,” +complained Amy. “But we must slow down.”</p> +<p>“Just to let you admire Dogtown, I suppose?” +said Jessie, laughing.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s a sight! I wonder what became of +that freckle-faced young one.”</p> +<p>“I wonder if she found her cousin,” added Jessie.</p> +<p>“That was a funny game; for that child to go +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +hunting through the neighborhood after a girl. +What was her name—Bertha?”</p> +<p>“Yes. And I have been thinking since then, +Amy, that we should have asked little Henrietta +some more questions.”</p> +<p>“Little Henrietta,” murmured Amy. “How +funny! She never could fill specifications for such +a name.”</p> +<p>“Never mind that,” Jessie flung back over her +shoulder, and still breathing easily as she set a +slower stroke. “What I have been thinking about +is that other girl.”</p> +<p>“The lost girl, Bertha?”</p> +<p>“No, no. Or, perhaps, yes, yes!” laughed Jessie. +“But I mean that girl the two women forced +to go with them in the motor-car. You surely remember, +Amy.”</p> +<p>“Oh! The kidnaped girl. My! Yes, I +should say I did remember her. But what has +that to do with little Henrietta? And they call +her ‘Hen,’” she added, chuckling.</p> +<p>“I have been thinking that perhaps the girl +Henrietta was looking for was the girl we saw +being carried away by those women.”</p> +<p>“Jess Norwood! Do you suppose so?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know whether I suppose so or not,” +laughed Jessie. “But I think if I ever see that +child again I shall question her more closely.”</p> +<p>She said this without the first idea that little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +Henrietta would cross their way almost at once. +The canoe touched the grassy bank at the edge of +the old Carter place at the far end of the lake +just before noon. An end of the old house had +been burned several years before, but the kitchen +ell was still standing, with chimney complete. Picnic +parties often used the ruin of the old house +in which to sup. It was a shelter, at least.</p> +<p>“I’ve got to eat. I’ve got to eat!” proclaimed +Amy, the moment she disembarked. “Actually, +I am as hollow as Mockery.”</p> +<p>“Well, I never!” chuckled Jessie. “Your +simile is remarkably apt. And I feel that I might +do justice to Alma’s sandwiches, myself.”</p> +<p>“Where’s the sun gone?” suddenly demanded +Amy, looking up and then turning around to look +over the water.</p> +<p>“Why! I didn’t notice those clouds. It is +going to shower, Amy, my dear.”</p> +<p>“It is going to thunder and lightning, too,” and +Amy looked a little disturbed. “I confess that I +do not like a thunderstorm.”</p> +<p>“Let us draw up the canoe and turn it over. +Keep the inside of it dry. And we’ll take the +cushions up to the old house,” added Jessie, briskly +throwing the contents of the canoe out upon the +bank.</p> +<p>“Ugh! I don’t fancy going into the house,” +said Amy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span></p> +<p>“Why not?”</p> +<p>“The old place is kind of spooky.”</p> +<p>“Spooks have no teeth,” chuckled Jessie. “I +heard of a ghost once that seemed to haunt a +country house, but after all it was only an old +gentleman in a state of somnambulism who was +hunting his false teeth.”</p> +<p>“Don’t make fun of spirits,” Amy told her, +sepulchrally.</p> +<p>“Why not? I never saw a ghost.”</p> +<p>“That makes no difference. It doesn’t prove +there is none. How black those clouds are! +O-oh! That was a sharp flash, Jessie, honey. +Let’s run. I guess the haunts in the old Carter +house can’t be as bad as standing out here in a +thunder-and-lightning storm.”</p> +<p>“To say nothing of getting our lunch wet,” +chuckled Jessie, following the dark girl up the +grassy path with her arms filled to overflowing.</p> +<p>“Ah, dear me!” wailed Amy, hurrying ahead. +“And those strawberries we came for. I am +afraid I shall not have enough to eat without +them.”</p> +<p>The ruin of the Carter house stood upon a +knoll, several great elms sheltering it. The dooryard +was covered with a heavy sod and the ancient +flower beds had run wild with weeds.</p> +<p>The place did have rather an eerie look. Most +of the window panes were broken and the steps +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +and narrow porch before the kitchen door had +broken away, leaving traps for careless feet.</p> +<p>The thunder growled behind them. Amy quickened +her steps. As she had said, she shuddered +at the tempest. What might be of a disturbing +nature in the old farmhouse could not, she thought, +be as fearsome as the approaching tempest.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_CARTERS_GHOST' id='CHAPTER_VIII_CARTERS_GHOST'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>CARTER’S GHOST</h3> +</div> +<p>On the broken porch of the abandoned house +Amy stopped and waited for her chum +to overtake her. When she looked back +she cried out again. Forked lightning blazed +against the lurid clouds. It was so sharp a display +of electricity that Amy shut her eyes.</p> +<p>Jessie, still laughing, plunged up the steps and +bumped right into the sagging door. It swung +inward, creakingly. Amy peered over her chum’s +shoulder.</p> +<p>“O-oh!” she crooned. “Do—do you see anything?”</p> +<p>“Nothing alive. Not even a rat.”</p> +<p>“Ghosts aren’t alive.”</p> +<p>“Nothing moving, then,” and Jessie proceeded +to march into the rather dark kitchen. “Here’s +a table and some benches. You know, Miss Allister’s +Sunday School class picnicked here last +year.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ve been here a dozen times,” confessed +Amy. “But always with a crowd. You know, +honey, you are no protection against ghosts.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be so ridiculous,” laughed Jessie. She +had put down the things she had brought up from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +the lakeside, and now turned back to look out of +the open door. “Oh, Amy! It’s coming!”</p> +<p>There was a crash of thunder and then the rain +began drumming on the roof of the porch. Jessie +looked out. The clearing about the house +had darkened speedily. A sheet of rain came +drifting across the lake toward the hillock on +which the house stood.</p> +<p>“Do shut the door, Jessie,” begged Amy Drew.</p> +<p>“How ridiculous!” Jessie said again. “You +can’t shut the windows. There!”</p> +<p>Another lightning flash blinded the girls and +the thunder following fairly deafened them for +the moment. But Jessie did not leave her post +in the doorway. Something at the edge of the +clearing—some rods away, at the verge of the +thick wood—had impressed itself on Jessie’s sight +just as the lightning flashed.</p> +<p>“Come away! Come away, Jess Norwood!” +shrieked Amy.</p> +<p>“Come here,” commanded Jessie. “Look. +Don’t be foolish. See that thing moving down +there by the woods? Is it a human being or an +animal?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Jessie! Maybe it is a ghost,” murmured +Amy.</p> +<p>But her curiosity overcame her fears sufficiently +for her to join Jessie at the doorway. +Through the falling rain the chums were sure that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +something was moving down by the woods.</p> +<p>“It’s a dog,” said Amy, after a moment.</p> +<p>“It’s a child,” declared Jessie, with conviction. +“I saw its face then.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps it is the Carter ghost,” breathed Amy. +“I never heard whether this haunt was a juvenile +or an adult offender.”</p> +<p>“I guess you are not much afraid after all,” +said her chum. “Yes, it is a child. And it is getting +most awfully wet.”</p> +<p>“Wait! Wait!” the girl from Roselawn cried. +“Don’t run away from me.”</p> +<p>Whether the child heard and understood her or +not, it gave evidence of being greatly frightened. +She covered her face with her hands and sank +down on the wet sod, while the rain beat upon her +unmercifully. There was no shelter here, and +Jessie Norwood herself was getting thoroughly +wet.</p> +<p>In a calm moment that followed the child piped, +without taking down her hands.</p> +<p>“Are—are you the ha’nt?”</p> +<p>“What a question!” gasped Jessie, and seized +the crouching figure by the shoulder. “Do I feel +like a ghost? Why, it’s Henrietta!”</p> +<p>The clawlike hands dropped from the freckled +face. The little girl stared.</p> +<p>“Goodness! I seen you before. You are the +nice girl. You ain’t a ghost.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></p> +<p>“But you are sopping wet. Come up to the +house at once, child.”</p> +<p>“Ain’t—ain’t there ghosts there?”</p> +<p>“If there are they won’t hurt us,” said Jessie +encouragingly. “Come on, child. I am getting +wet myself.”</p> +<p>But little Henrietta hung back stubbornly. +“Mrs. Foley says ha’nts carry off kids. Like my +Bertha was carried off.”</p> +<p>“We have some nice lunch,” said Jessie, quickly. +“You’ll forget all about the silly ghosts when you +are helping us eat that.”</p> +<p>This invitation and prospect overcame the fear +of ghosts in Henrietta’s mind. She began to trot +willingly by Jessie’s side. But already the rain +had saturated the girl from Roselawn as well as +the child from Dogtown.</p> +<p>“Two more bedrabbled persons I never saw!” +exclaimed Amy, when they arrived upon the porch. +“Do come in. There is wood here and we can +make a fire on the hearth. You can take off that +skirt, Jess, and get it dry. And this poor little +thing—well, she looks as though she ought to be +peeled to the skin if we are ever to get <i>her</i> dry.”</p> +<p>She hustled Henrietta into the house, but kindly. +She even knelt down beside her and began to unfasten +the child’s dress after lighting the fire that +she had herself suggested. “Spooks” were evidently +wiped from Amy’s memory; but she flinched +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +every time it lightened, as it did occasionally for +some time.</p> +<p>“Say!” said the wondering Henrietta hoarsely. +“I’m just as dirty as I was the other day. You +don’t haf to touch me.”</p> +<p>“Oh, dear me!” cried Amy. “This child is +never going to forgive me for that. Won’t you +like me a little, Henrietta?”</p> +<p>“Not as much as that other one,” said the +freckle-faced girl frankly.</p> +<p>Jessie, who was taking off her own outer garments +to hang before the now roaring fire, only +laughed at that.</p> +<p>“Tell us,” she said, “why you think your cousin +was carried off?”</p> +<p>“That lady she lived with was awful mad when +she came to Foleys looking for Bertha. She said +she’d put Bertha where she wouldn’t run away +again for one while. That’s what she said.”</p> +<p>“Oh, my dear!” exclaimed Amy suddenly. “Do +you suppose—Child! did the woman come to your +house––”</p> +<p>“Foley’s house. I ain’t got a house,” declared +Henrietta.</p> +<p>“Well, to Mrs. Foley’s house in a big maroon +automobile?” finished Amy.</p> +<p>“No’m. Didn’t come in a car at all. She came +on foot, she did. She said Bertha was a silly to +run away when nothing was going to hurt her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +But she looked mad enough to hurt her,” concluded +the observant Henrietta.</p> +<p>“Oh!” exclaimed Amy again. “Was she dark +and thin and—and waspish looking?”</p> +<p>“Who was?” asked the child, staring.</p> +<p>“The woman who asked for Bertha,” explained +Jessie, quite as eagerly as her chum.</p> +<p>“She wasn’t no wasp,” drawled Henrietta, with +indescribable scorn. “She was big around, like a +barrel. She was fat, and red, and ugly. I don’t +like that woman. And I guess Bertha had a right +to run away from her.”</p> +<p>Jessie and Amy looked at each other and nodded. +They had both decided that the girl, Bertha, +was the one they had seen carried off in the big +French car.</p> +<p>“And you don’t know what Bertha was afraid +of?” asked Jessie.</p> +<p>“I dunno. She just wrote me—I can read writing—that +she was coming to see me at Foley’s. +And she never come.”</p> +<p>“Of course you did not hear anything about her +when you searched up and down the boulevard the +other day?” Amy asked.</p> +<p>“There wouldn’t many of ’em answer questions,” +said the child gloomily. “Some of ’em +shooed me out of their yards before I could ask.”</p> +<p>Amy had undressed the child now down to one +scant undergarment. She looked from her bony +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +little body to Jessie, and Amy’s eyes actually filled +with tears.</p> +<p>“Aren’t you hungry, honey?” she asked the +waif.</p> +<p>“Ain’t I hungry?” scoffed Henrietta. “Ain’t +I always hungry? Mrs. Foley says I’m empty as +a drum. She can’t fill me up. That’s how I came +over here to-day.”</p> +<p>“Because she didn’t give you enough to eat?” +demanded Amy, in rising wrath.</p> +<p>“Aw, she’d give it me if she had it. But the +kids got to be fed first, ain’t they? And when +you’ve got six of ’em and a man that drinks––”</p> +<p>“It is quite understandable, dear,” Jessie said, +with more composure than her chum could display +at the moment. “So you came over here––”</p> +<p>“To pick strawberries. Got a pail half full +down there somewhere. The thunder scared me. +Then I saw youse two up here and I thought you +was the Carter ha’nt sure enough.”</p> +<p>“Let’s have some lunch,” cried Amy quickly.</p> +<p>She got up and began to bustle about. She +opened the two boxes they had brought and set +the vacuum bottle of hot cocoa on the bench. +There were two cups and she insisted upon giving +one of them to Henrietta.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe I could drink a drop or eat a +morsel,” she said to Jessie, when the latter remonstrated. +“I feel as if I was in the famine section +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +of Armenia or Russia or China. That poor little +thing!”</p> +<p>She insisted upon giving Henrietta the bulk of +her own lunch and all the tidbits she could find +in Jessie’s lunchbox. The freckle-faced girl +began systematically to fill up the hollow with +which she was accredited. It was evident that +the good food made Henrietta quite forget the +so-called ha’nts.</p> +<p>The rain continued to fall torrentially; the +thunder muttered almost continually, but in +the distance; again and again the lightning +flashed.</p> +<p>Jessie Norwood fed the fire on the hearth until +the warmth of it could be felt to the farther end +of the big old kitchen. She and Henrietta were +fast becoming dried, and their outer clothing could +soon be put on again.</p> +<p>“I wonder if Momsy was scared when the storm +broke,” ruminated Jessie. “She thinks the aerial +may attract lightning.”</p> +<p>“Nothing like that,” declared Amy cheerfully. +“But I wish we had a radio sending set here and +could talk to her––”</p> +<p>“Ow! What’s that?”</p> +<p>Even Henrietta stopped eating, looked upward +at the dusty ceiling, and listened for a repetition +of the sound. It came in a moment—a sudden +thump—then the thrashing about of something on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +the bare boards of the floor of the loft over the +kitchen.</p> +<p>“O-oh!” squealed Amy, jumping up from the +table.</p> +<p>“What <i>can</i> it be?” demanded Jessie Norwood, +and her face expressed fear likewise.</p> +<p>Henrietta took another enormous bite of sandwich; +from behind that barrier she said in a +muffled tone:</p> +<p>“Guess it’s the Carter ha’nt after all!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>Henrietta is Valiant<br />The Prize Idea</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_HENRIETTA_IS_VALIANT' id='CHAPTER_IX_HENRIETTA_IS_VALIANT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>HENRIETTA IS VALIANT</h3> +</div> +<p>Jessie Norwood tried to remember that +she should set little Henrietta a good example. +She should not show panic because of +the mysterious noise in the loft of the abandoned +Carter house.</p> +<p>But as the thrashing sounds continued and +finally the cause of it came tumbling down the +enclosed stairway and bumped against the door +that opened from the kitchen upon that stairway, +Jessie screamed almost as loud as Amy.</p> +<p>Amy Drew, however, ran out into the rain. +Neither Jessie nor the little freckle-faced girl +were garbed properly for an appearance in the +open; not even in as lonely a place as the clearing +about the old Carter house. To tell the truth, +Henrietta kept on eating and did not at first get up +from the table.</p> +<p>“Aren’t you scared, child?” demanded Jessie, +in surprise.</p> +<p>“Course I am,” agreed the little girl. “But +ha’nts chase you anywhere. They can go right +through keyholes and doors––” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></p> +<p>“Mercy! Whatever it is seems determined to +come through that door.”</p> +<p>“There ain’t no keyhole to it,” said Henrietta +complacently.</p> +<p>The banging continued at the foot of the stairs. +Amy was shrieking for her chum to come out of +the house. But Jessie began to be ashamed of her +momentary panic.</p> +<p>“I’m going to see what it is,” she declared, approaching +the door.</p> +<p>“Maybe you won’t see nothing,” said Henrietta. +“Mrs. Foley says that ha’nts is sometimes +just wind. You don’t see nothing. Only you feel +creepy and cold fingers touch you and a chilly +breath hits the back o’ your neck.”</p> +<p>“I declare!” exclaimed Jessie. “That Mrs. +Foley ought not to tell you such things.”</p> +<p>She looked about for some weapon, for the +sounds behind the door panels seemed to suggest +something very material. There was a long hardwood +stick standing in the corner. It might have +been a mop handle or something of the kind. +Jessie seized it, and with more courage again +walked toward the door.</p> +<p>Bang, bang, thump! the noise was repeated. +She stretched a tentative hand toward the latch. +Should she lift it? Was there something supernatural +on the stairway?</p> +<p>She saw the door tremble from the blows delivered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +upon it. There was nothing spiritual about +that.</p> +<p>“Whatever it is––”</p> +<p>To punctuate her observation Jessie Norwood +lifted the iron latch and jerked open the door. It +was dusky in the stairway and she could not see +a thing. But almost instantly there tumbled out +upon the kitchen floor something that brought +shriek after shriek from Jessie’s lips.</p> +<p>“Hi!” cried Henrietta. “Did it bite you?”</p> +<p>Jessie did not stop to answer. She seized her +skirt drying before the fire and wrapped it around +her bare shoulders as she ran through the outer +door. She left behind her writhing all over the +kitchen floor a pair of big blacksnakes.</p> +<p>The fighting snakes hissed and thumped about, +wound about each other like a braided rope. +Probably the warmth of the fire passing up the +chimney had stirred the snakes up, and it was evident +that they were in no pleasant frame of mind.</p> +<p>“What is it? Ghosts?” cried Amy Drew, standing +in the rain.</p> +<p>“It’s worse! It’s snakes!” Jessie declared, +looking fearfully behind her, and in at the door.</p> +<p>She had dropped the stick with which she had so +valiantly faced the unknown. But when that unknown +had become known—and Jessie had always +been very much afraid of serpents—all the girl’s +valor seemed to have evaporated. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span></p> +<p>“Mercy!” gasped Amy. “What’s going on in +there? Hear that thumping, will you?”</p> +<p>“They are fighting, I guess,” replied her chum.</p> +<p>“Where’s Hen?”</p> +<p>“She’s in there, too. She didn’t stop eating.”</p> +<p>At that Amy began laughing hysterically. “She +can’t eat the snakes, can she?” she shrieked at last. +“But maybe they’ll eat her. How many snakes are +there, Jess?”</p> +<p>“Do you suppose I stopped to count them? +Dozens, maybe. They came pouring out of that +dark stairway––”</p> +<p>“Where <i>is</i> the child?” demanded Amy, who had +come up upon the porch, and was now peering in +through the doorway.</p> +<p>The sounds from inside, like the beating of a +flail, continued. Amy craned her head around +the door jamb to see.</p> +<p>“Goodness, mercy, child!” she shouted. “Look +out what you are doing! You will get bitten!”</p> +<p>The noise of the thrashing stopped. At least, +the larger part of the noise. Henrietta came to +the door with the stick that Jessie had dropped +in her hand.</p> +<p>“I fixed ’em,” she said calmly. “I just hate +snakes. I always kill them black ones. They +ain’t got no poison. And I shut the door so if +there’s any more upstairs they won’t come down. +You can come back to dinner.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></p> +<p>“Well, you darling!” gasped Jessie.</p> +<p>Her chum leaned against the door jamb while +peal after peal of laughter shook her. She could +just put out her hands and make motions at the +freckled little girl.</p> +<p>“She—she—she––”</p> +<p>“For pity’s sake, Amy Drew!” exclaimed Jessie. +“You’ll have a fit, or something.”</p> +<p>“She—she didn’t even—stop—chewing!” Amy +got out at last.</p> +<p>“Bless her heart! She’s the bravest little +thing!” Jessie declared, shakingly. “We two +great, big girls should be ashamed.”</p> +<p>“I guess you ain’t so much acquainted with +snakes as I am,” Henrietta said, sliding onto the +bench again. “But I certainly am glad it wasn’t +Carter’s ha’nt.”</p> +<p>“But,” cried Amy, still weak from laughing, +“it <i>was</i> the ghost. Of course, those snakes had +a home upstairs there. Probably in the chimney. +And every time anybody came here to picnic and +built a fire, they got warmed up and started moving +about. Thusly, the ghost stories about the +Carter house.”</p> +<p>“Your explanation is ingenious, at any rate,” +admitted Jessie. “Ugh! They are still writhing. +Are you sure they are dead, Henrietta?”</p> +<p>“That’s the trouble with snakes,” said the child. +“They don’t know enough to keep still when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +they’re dead-ed. I smashed their heads good for +’em.”</p> +<p>But Amy could not bear to sit down to the bench +again until she had taken the stick and poked the +dead but still writhing snakes out of the house. +The rain was diminishing now and the thunder +and lightning had receded into the distance. The +two older girls ate very little of the luncheon +they had brought. It was with much amazement +that they watched Henrietta absorb sandwiches, +cake, eggs, and fruit. She did a thorough job.</p> +<p>“Isn’t she the bravest little thing?” Jessie whispered +to her chum. “Did you ever hear the like?”</p> +<p>“I guess that girl we saw run away with, was +her cousin all right,” said Amy. “How she did +fight!”</p> +<p>At that statement Jessie was reminded of the +thing that had been puzzling her for some days. +She began asking questions about Bertha, how +she looked, how old she was, and how she was +dressed.</p> +<p>“She’s just my cousin. She is as old as you girls, +I guess, but not so awful old,” Henrietta said. +“I don’t know what she had on her. She ain’t +as pretty as you girls. Guess there ain’t none +of our family real pretty,” and Henrietta shook +her head with reflection.</p> +<p>“What happened to her that she wanted to +leave that dreadful fat woman?” asked Amy, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +now, as well as her chum, taking an interest in the +matter.</p> +<p>“There wasn’t a thing happened to her that I +know of,” said Henrietta, shaking her head again. +“But by the way that lady talked it would happen +to her if she got hold of Bertha again.”</p> +<p>“How dreadful,” murmured Jessie, looking at +her chum.</p> +<p>“I don’t see how we can help the girl,” said +Amy. “She has been shut up some place, of +course. If I could just think who that skinny +woman is—or who she looks like. But how she +can drive a car!”</p> +<p>“I think we can do something,” Jessie declared. +“I’ve had my head so full of radio that I haven’t +thought much about this poor child’s cousin and +her trouble.”</p> +<p>“What will you do?” asked Amy.</p> +<p>“Tell daddy. He ought to be able to advise.”</p> +<p>“That’s a fact,” agreed Amy, her eyes twinkling. +“He is quite a good lawyer. Of course, +not so good as Mr. Wilbur Drew. But he’ll do at +a pinch.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_THE_PRIZE_IDEA' id='CHAPTER_X_THE_PRIZE_IDEA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>THE PRIZE IDEA</h3> +</div> +<p>When the two girls paddled back up the +lake after their adventure at the old Carter +house, Henrietta squatted in the middle +of the canoe and seemed to enjoy the trip +immensely.</p> +<p>“I seen these sort of boats going up and down +the lake, and they look pretty. Me and Charlie +Foley and some of the other boys at Dogtown +made a raft. But Mr. Foley busted it with an +ax. He said we had no business using the coal-cellar +door and Mrs. Foley’s bread-mixing board. +So we didn’t get to go sailing,” observed the +freckle-faced child.</p> +<p>Almost everything the child said made Amy +laugh. Nevertheless, like her chum, Amy felt +keenly the pathos of the little girl’s situation. +Perhaps with Amy Drew this interest went no +farther than sympathy, whereas Jessie was already, +and before this incident, puzzling her mind +regarding what might be done to help Henrietta +and improve her situation.</p> +<p>The girls paddled the canoe in to a broken +landing just below the scattered shacks of Dogtown, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +and Henrietta went ashore. It was plain +that she would have enjoyed riding farther in the +canoe.</p> +<p>“If you see us come down this way again, +honey,” Amy said, “run down here to the shore +and we will take you aboard.”</p> +<p>“If Mrs. Foley will let you,” added Jessie.</p> +<p>“I dunno what Mrs. Foley will say about the +strawberries. I told her I’d bring home some if +she’d let me go over there. And here I come +home without even the bucket.”</p> +<p>“It is altogether too wet to pick wild strawberries,” +Jessie said. “I wanted some myself. +But we shall have to go another day. And you can +find your bucket then, Henrietta.”</p> +<p>The chums drove their craft up the lake and in +half an hour sighted the Norwood place and its +roses. Everything ashore was saturated, of +course. And in one place the girls saw that the +storm had done some damage.</p> +<p>A grove of tall trees at the head of the lake +and near the landing belonging to the Norwood +place was a landmark that could be seen for several +miles and from almost any direction on this +side of Bonwit Boulevard. As the canoe swept +in toward the dock Amy cried aloud:</p> +<p>“Look! Look, Jess! No wonder we thought +that thunder was so sharp. It struck here.”</p> +<p>“The thunder struck?” repeated Jessie, laughing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +“I <i>am</i> thunderstruck, then. You mean––Oh, +Amy! That beautiful great tree!”</p> +<p>She saw what had first caught Amy’s eye. One +of the tallest of the trees was split from near its +top almost to the foot of the trunk. The white +gash looked like a wide strip of paper pasted down +the stick of ruined timber.</p> +<p>“Isn’t that too bad?” said Amy, staring.</p> +<p>But suddenly Jessie drove her paddle deep into +the water and sent the canoe in a dash to the landing. +She fended off skillfully, hopped out, and +began to run.</p> +<p>“What is the matter, Jess?” shrieked Amy. +“You’ve left me to do all the work.”</p> +<p>“Momsy!” gasped out Jessie, looking back for +an instant. “She was scared to death that the +lightning would strike the house because of the +radio aerial.”</p> +<p>Her chum came leaping up the hill behind her, +having moored the canoe with one hitch. She +cried out:</p> +<p>“No danger from lightning if you shut the +switch at the set. You know that, Jessie.”</p> +<p>“But Momsy doesn’t know it,” returned the +other girl, and dashed madly into the house.</p> +<p>She had forgotten to tell her mother of that +fact—the safety of the closed receiving switch. +She felt condemned. Suppose her mother had +been frightened by the thunder and lightning and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +should pay for it with one of her long and torturing +sick headaches?</p> +<p>“Momsy! Momsy!” she cried, bursting into the +hall.</p> +<p>“Your mother is down town, Miss Jessie,” said +the quiet voice of the parlor maid. “She drove +down in her own car before the storm.”</p> +<p>“Oh! She wasn’t here when the lightning +struck––”</p> +<p>“No, Miss Jessie. And that was some thunder-clap! +Cook says she’ll never get over it. But +I guess she will. Bill, the gardener’s boy, says it +struck a tree down by the water.”</p> +<p>“So it did,” Jessie rejoined with relief. “Well, +I certainly am glad Momsy wasn’t here. It’s all +right, Amy,” she called through the screen doors.</p> +<p>“I am glad. I thought it was all wrong by the +way you ran. Now let’s go back and get our rugs +and the rest of the junk out of the canoe. And, +oh, me! Ain’t I hungry!”</p> +<p>Jessie ignored this oft-repeated complaint, +saying:</p> +<p>“We should have remembered about the bazaar +committee meeting. Momsy would go to that. +Do you know, Amy, she thinks she can get the +other ladies to agree to have the lawn party out +here.”</p> +<p>“Here, in Roselawn?” asked her chum.</p> +<p>“Right here on our place.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></p> +<p>“How fine!” ejaculated Amy. “But, Jessie, I +wish I could think of some awfully smart idea to +work in connection with the lawn party. That +lovely, lovely sports coat that Letterblair has in +his window has taken my eye.”</p> +<p>“I saw it,” Jessie admitted. “And the card +says it goes to the girl under eighteen who suggests +the best money-making scheme in unusual +channels that can be used by the bazaar committee. +Yes, it’s lovely.”</p> +<p>“Let’s put on our thinking-caps, honey, and try +for it. Only two days more.”</p> +<p>“And if we win it, shall we divide the coat +between us?”</p> +<p>“No, we’ll cast lots for it,” said Amy seriously. +“It is a be-a-utiful coat!”</p> +<p>That evening after dinner Jessie climbed upon +the arm of her father’s big chair in the library, +sitting there and swinging her feet just as though +she were a very small child again. He hugged +her up to him with one arm while he laid down +the book he was reading.</p> +<p>“Out with it, daughter,” Mr. Norwood said. +“What is the desperate need for a father?”</p> +<p>“It is not very desperate, and really it is none +of my business,” began Jessie thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“And that does not surprise me. It will not be +the first time that you have shown interest in +something decidedly not your concern.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></p> +<p>“Oh! But I am concerned about her, Daddy.”</p> +<p>“A lady in the case, eh?”</p> +<p>“A girl. Like Amy and me. Oh, no! <i>Not</i> +like Amy and me. But about our age.”</p> +<p>“What is her name and what has she done?”</p> +<p>“Bertha. Or, perhaps it isn’t Bertha. But we +think so.”</p> +<p>“Somehow, it seems to me, you have begun +wrong. Who is this young person who may be +Bertha but who probably is not?”</p> +<p>Jessie told him about the “kidnaped” girl +then. But it spilled out of her mouth so rapidly +and so disconnectedly that it is little wonder that +Mr. Norwood, lawyer though he was, got a rather +hazy idea of the incident connected with the +strange girl’s being captured on Dogtown Lane.</p> +<p>In fact, he got that girl and little, freckled Henrietta +Haney rather mixed up in his mind. He +found himself advising Jessie to have the child +come to the house so that Momsy could see her. +Momsy always knew what to do to help such +unfortunates.</p> +<p>“And you think there can be nothing done for +that other girl?” Jessie asked, rather mournfully.</p> +<p>“Oh! You mean the girl you saw put in the +automobile and taken away? Well, we don’t +know her or the woman who took her, do we?”</p> +<p>“No-o. Though Amy says she thinks she has +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +seen somebody who looks like the woman driving +the car before.”</p> +<p>“Humph! You have no case,” declared Mr. +Norwood, in his most judicial manner. “I fear +it would be thrown out of court.”</p> +<p>“Oh, dear!”</p> +<p>“If your little acquaintance could describe her +cousin so that we could give the description to the +police—or broadcast it by radio,” and Mr. Norwood +laughed.</p> +<p>Jessie suddenly hopped down from the chair +arm and began a pirouette about the room, clapping +her hands as she danced.</p> +<p>“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” she cried. “Radio! +Oh, Daddy! you are just the nicest man. You +give me such fine ideas!”</p> +<p>“You evidently see your way clear to a settlement +of this legal matter you brought to my +attention,” said Mr. Norwood quite gravely.</p> +<p>“Nothing like that! Nothing like that!” cried +Jessie. “Oh, no. But you have given me such a +fine idea for winning the prize Momsy and the +other ladies are offering. I’ve got it! I’ve got +it!” and she danced out of the room.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>Belle Ringold<br />The Glorious Fourth<br />The Bazaar</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_BELLE_RINGOLD' id='CHAPTER_XI_BELLE_RINGOLD'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>BELLE RINGOLD</h3> +</div> +<p>Whether Jessie Norwood actually +“had it,” as she proclaimed, or not, she +kept very quiet about her discovery of +what she believed to be a brand new idea. She +did not tell Amy, even, or Momsy. That would +have been against the rules of the contest.</p> +<p>She wrote out her suggestion for the prize idea, +sealed it in an envelope, and dropped it through +the slit in the locked box in the parish house, +placed there for that purpose. It was not long to +wait until the next evening but one.</p> +<p>She rode down to the church in Momsy’s car, +an electric runabout, and waited outside the committee +room door with some of the other girls +and not a few of the boys of the parish, for there +had been a prize offered, too, for the boy who +made the best suggestion.</p> +<p>“I am sure they are going to use my idea,” +Belle Ringold said, with a toss of her bobbed +curls.</p> +<p>Did we introduce you to Belle? By this speech +you may know she was a very confident person, +not easily persuaded that her own way was not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +always best. She not only had her hair bobbed in +the approved manner of that season, but her +mother was ill-advised enough to allow her to +wear long, dangling earrings, and she favored a +manner of walking (when she did not forget) +that Burd Alling called “the serpentine slink.” +Belle thought she was wholly grown up.</p> +<p>“They couldn’t throw out my idea,” repeated +Belle.</p> +<p>“What is it, Belle, honey?” asked one of her +chums.</p> +<p>“She can’t tell,” put in Amy, who was present. +“That is one of the rules.”</p> +<p>“Pooh!” scoffed Belle. “Guess I’ll tell if I +want to. That won’t invalidate my chances. +They will be only too glad to use my idea.”</p> +<p>“Dear me,” drawled Amy, laughing. “You’re +just as sure as sure, aren’t you?”</p> +<p>Miss Seymour, the girls’ English teacher in +school, came to the door of the committee room +with a paper in her hand. A semblance of order +immediately fell upon the company.</p> +<p>“We have just now decided upon the two suggestions +of all those placed in the box, the two +prize ideas. And both are very good, I must say. +Chippendale Truro! Is Chip here?”</p> +<p>“Yes, ma’am,” said Chip, who was a snub-nosed +boy whose chums declared “all his brains were in +his head.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span></p> +<p>“Chip, I think your idea is very good. You +will be interested to learn what it is, girls. Chip +suggests that all the waitresses and saleswomen at +the lawn party wear masks—little black masks as +one does at a masquerade party. That will make +them stand out from the guests. And the committee +are pleased with the idea. Chip gets the +tennis racket in Mr. Brill’s show-window.”</p> +<p>“Cricky, Chip! how did you come to think of +that?” demanded one of the boys in an undertone.</p> +<p>“Well, they are going to be regular road-agents, +aren’t they?” asked the snub-nosed boy. +“They take everything you have in your pockets +at those fairs. They ought to wear masks—and +carry guns, too. Only I didn’t dare suggest the +guns.”</p> +<p>Amid the muffled explosion of laughter following +this statement, Miss Seymour began speaking +again:</p> +<p>“The girl’s prize—the sports coat at Letterblair’s—goes +to Jessie Norwood, on whose +father’s lawn the bazaar is to be held on the afternoon +and evening of the Fourth of July.”</p> +<p>At this announcement Belle Ringold actually +cried out: “What’s that?”</p> +<p>“Hush!” commanded Miss Seymour. “Jessie +has suggested that a tent be erected—her father +has one stored in his garage—and that her radio +set be placed in the tent and re-connected. With +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +an amplifier the concerts broadcasted from several +stations can be heard inside the tent, and +we will charge admission to the tent. Radio is a +new and novel form of amusement and, the committee +thinks, will attract a large patronage. +The coat is yours, Jessie.”</p> +<p>“Well, isn’t that the meanest thing!” ejaculated +Belle Ringold.</p> +<p>“Did I hear you say something, Belle?” demanded +Miss Seymour, in her very sternest way.</p> +<p>“Well, I want to say––”</p> +<p>“Don’t say it,” advised the teacher. “The decisions +upon the prize ideas are arbitrary. The +committee is responsible for its acts, and must +decide upon all such matters. The affair is +closed,” and she went back into the committee +room and closed the door.</p> +<p>“Well, isn’t she the mean thing!” exclaimed +one of those girls who liked to stand well with +Belle Ringold.</p> +<p>“I am sure your idea was as good as good could +be, Belle,” Jessie said. “Only I happened to have +the radio set, and—and everything is rigged right +for my idea to work out.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I can see that it was rigged right,” +snapped Belle. “Your mother is on the committee, +and the lawn party is going to be at your +house. Oh, yes! No favoritism shown, of +course.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span></p> +<p>“Oh, cat’s foot!” exclaimed Amy, linking her +arm in Jessie’s. “Let her splutter, Jess. We’ll +go to the Dainties Shop and have a George Washington +sundae.”</p> +<p>“I am afraid Belle is going to be very unpleasant +about this thing,” sighed Jessie, as she and her +chum came out of the parish house.</p> +<p>“As usual,” commented Amy. “Why should +we care?”</p> +<p>“I hate to have unpleasant things happen.”</p> +<p>“Think of the new coat,” laughed Amy. “And +I do think you were awfully smart to think of +using your radio in that way. Lots of people, do +you know, don’t believe it can be so. They think +it is make-believe.”</p> +<p>“How can they, when wireless telegraphy has +been known so long?”</p> +<p>“But, after all, this is something different,” +Amy said. “Hearing voices right out of the air! +Well, you know, Jess, I said before, I thought it +was sort of spooky.”</p> +<p>“Ha, ha!” giggled her chum. “All the spooks +you know anything about personally are blacksnakes. +Don’t forget that.”</p> +<p>“And how brave that little Hen was,” sighed +Amy, as they sat down to the round glass table in +the Dainties Shop. “I never saw such a child.”</p> +<p>“I was trying to get daddy interested in her and +in her lost cousin—if that was her cousin whom we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +saw carried off,” Jessie returned. “Come to think +of it, I didn’t get very far with my story. I must +talk to daddy again. But Momsy says he is much +troubled over a case he has on his hands, an +important case, and I suppose he hasn’t time for +our small affairs.”</p> +<p>“I imagine that girl who was kidnaped doesn’t +think hers is a small affair,” observed Amy Drew, +dipping her spoon into the rich concoction that +had been placed before her. “Oh, yum, yum! +Isn’t this good, Jess?”</p> +<p>“Scrumptious. By the way, who is going to +pay for it?”</p> +<p>“Oh, my! Haven’t you any money?” demanded +Amy.</p> +<p>“We-ell, you suggested this treat.”</p> +<p>“But you should stand it. You won the prize +coat,” giggled Amy.</p> +<p>“I never saw the like of you!” exclaimed +Jessie. “And you say I am not fit to carry money, +and all. Have you actually got me in here without +being able to pay for this cream?”</p> +<p>“But haven’t you any money?” cried Amy.</p> +<p>“Not one cent. I shall have to hurry back to +the parish house and beg some of Momsy.”</p> +<p>“And leave me here?” demanded Amy. +“Never!”</p> +<p>“How will you fix it, then?” asked Jessie, who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +was really disturbed and could not enjoy her +sundae.</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t let that nice treat go to waste, Jess.”</p> +<p>“It does not taste nice to me if we can’t pay +for it.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be foolish. Leave it to me,” said Amy, +getting on her feet. “I’ll speak to the clerk. He’s +nice looking and wears his hair slicked back like +patent leather. Lo-o-vely hair.”</p> +<p>“Amy Drew! Behave!”</p> +<p>“I am. I am behaving right up, I tell you. I +am sure I can make that clerk chalk the amount +down until we come in again.”</p> +<p>“I would be shamed to death,” Jessie declared, +her face flushing almost angrily, for sometimes +Amy did try her. “I will not hear of your doing +that. You sit down here and wait till I run back +to the church––”</p> +<p>“Oh, you won’t have to,” interrupted Amy. +“Here come some of the girls. We can borrow––”</p> +<p>But the girl who headed the little group just +then entering the door of the Dainties Shop was +Belle Ringold. The three who followed Belle +were her particular friends. Jessie did not feel +that she wanted to borrow money of Belle or her +friends.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_THE_GLORIOUS_FOURTH' id='CHAPTER_XII_THE_GLORIOUS_FOURTH'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>THE GLORIOUS FOURTH</h3> +</div> +<p>“Never mind,” whispered Amy Drew +quickly, quite understanding her chum’s +feelings regarding Belle and her group. +“I’ll ask them. It’s my fault, anyway. And I +only meant it for a joke––”</p> +<p>“A pretty poor joke, Amy,” Jessie said, with +some sharpness. “And I don’t want you to borrow +of them. I’ll run back to the church.”</p> +<p>She started to leave the Dainties Shop. Sally +Moon, who was just behind Belle Ringold, halted +Jessie with a firm grasp on her sleeve.</p> +<p>“Don’t run away just because we came in, Jess,” +she said.</p> +<p>“I’m coming right back,” Jessie Norwood +explained. “Don’t keep me.”</p> +<p>“Where you going, Jess?” drawled another of +the group.</p> +<p>“I’ve got to run back to the church to speak to +mother for a moment.”</p> +<p>“Your mother’s not there,” broke in Belle. +“She was leaving in her flivver when we came +away. The committee’s broken up and the parish +house door is locked.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span></p> +<p>“Oh, no!” murmured Jessie, a good deal +appalled.</p> +<p>“Don’t I tell you <i>yes</i>?” snapped Belle. “Don’t +you believe me?”</p> +<p>“Of course I believe what you say, Belle,” +Jessie rejoined politely. “I only said ‘Oh, no!’ +because I was startled.”</p> +<p>“What scared you?” demanded Belle, curiously.</p> +<p>“Why, I—I’m not scared––”</p> +<p>“It is none of your business, Belle Ringold,” put +in Amy. “Don’t annoy her. Here, Jessie, +I’ll––”</p> +<p>The clerk who waited on them had come to the +table and placed a punched ticket for the sundaes +on it. He evidently expected to be paid by the two +girls. The other four were noisily grouping themselves +about another table. Belle Ringold said:</p> +<p>“Give Nick your orders, girls. This is on me. +I want a banana royal, Nick. Hurry up.”</p> +<p>The young fellow with the “patent leather” +hair still lingered by the table where Jessie and +Amy had sat. Belle turned around to stare at +the two guilty-looking chums. She sneered.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with you and Jess, Amy +Drew? Were you trying to slip out without paying +Nick? I shouldn’t wonder!”</p> +<p>“Oh!” gasped Jessie, flushing and then paling.</p> +<p>But Amy burst out laughing. It was a fact +that Amy Drew often saw humor where her chum +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +could not spy anything in the least laughable. +With the clerk waiting and these four girls, more +than a little unfriendly, ready to make unkind +remarks if they but knew the truth––</p> +<p>What should she do? Jessie looked around +wildly. Amy clung to a chair and laughed, and +laughed. Her chum desired greatly to have the +floor of the New Melford Dainties Shop open at +her feet and swallow her!</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with you, Amy Drew? +You crazy?” demanded Belle.</p> +<p>“I—I––” Amy could get no farther. She +weaved back and forth, utterly hysterical.</p> +<p>“If you young ladies will pay me, please,” +stammered the clerk, wondering. “I’d like to wait +on these other customers.”</p> +<p>“I want my banana royal, Nick,” cried Belle.</p> +<p>The other three girls gave their orders. The +clerk looked from the laughing Amy to the trembling +Jessie. He was about to reiterate his demand +for payment.</p> +<p>And just then Heaven sent an angel! Two, in +very truth! At least, so it seemed to Jessie +Norwood.</p> +<p>“Darry!” she almost squealed. “And Burd +Alling! We—we thought you were at Atlantic +Highlands.”</p> +<p>The two young fellows came hurrying into the +shop. They had evidently seen the girls from outside. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +Darry grabbed his sister and sat her down +at a table. He grinned widely, bowing to Belle +and her crowd.</p> +<p>“Come on, Jessie!” he commanded. “No matter +how many George Washington sundaes you +kids have eaten––”</p> +<p>“‘Kids’! Indeed! I like that!” exploded +Amy.</p> +<p>But her brother swept on, ignoring her objection: +“No matter how many you have eaten, +there is always room for one more. You and +Amy, Jessie, must have another sundae on me.”</p> +<p>“Darry!” exclaimed Jessie Norwood. “I +thought you and Burd went to his aunt’s.”</p> +<p>“And we came back. That is an awful place. +There’s an uncle, too—a second crop uncle. And +both uncle and auntie are vegetarians, or something. +Maybe it’s their religion. Anyway, they +eat like horses—oats, and barley, and chopped +straw. We were there for two meals. Shall we +ever catch up on our regular rations, Burd?”</p> +<p>“I’ve my doubts,” said his friend. “Say, +Nick, bring me a plate of the fillingest thing there +is on your bill of fare.”</p> +<p>“In just a minute,” replied the clerk, hopping +around the other table to have Belle Ringold and +her friends repeat their orders.</p> +<p>Belle had immediately begun preening when +Darry and Burd came in. That the two college +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +youths were so much older, and that they merely +considered Amy and Jessie “kids,” made no difference +to Belle. She really thought that she was +quite grown up and that college men should be +interested in her.</p> +<p>“We had just finished, boys,” Jessie managed +to say in a low tone. “We had not even paid for +our sundaes.”</p> +<p>Darry and Burd just then caught sight of the +punched check lying on the table and they both +reached for it. There was some little rivalry +over who should pay the score, but Darry won.</p> +<p>“Leave it to me,” he said cheerfully. “Girls +shouldn’t be trusted with money anyway.”</p> +<p>“Oh! Oh!” gurgled Amy, choked with laughter +again.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with you, Sis?” demanded +her brother.</p> +<p>Jessie forbade her chum to tell, by a hard stare +and a determined shake of her head. It was all +right to have Darry pay the check—it was really +a relief—but it did not seem to Jessie as though +she could endure having the matter made an open +joke of.</p> +<p>The four settled about the little table. But the +Ringold crowd was too near. Belle turned sideways +in her chair, even before they were served, +and, being at Darry’s elbow, insisted upon talking +to him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span></p> +<p>“Talk about my aunt!” said Burd Alling, grinning. +“I’ll tell the world that somebody has a +crush on Sir Galahad that’s as plain to be seen as +a wart on the nose of Venus.”</p> +<p>“Of all the metaphors!” exclaimed Amy.</p> +<p>Jessie feared that Belle would overhear the +comments of Burd and her chum, and she hurried +the eating of her second sundae.</p> +<p>“I must get home, Darry,” she explained. +“Momsy has gone without me in her car and will +be surprised not to find me there.”</p> +<p>“Sure,” agreed Burd quickly. “We’ll gobble +and hobble. Can’t you tear yourself away, +Darry?” he added, with a wicked grin.</p> +<p>Amy’s brother tried politely to turn away from +Belle. But the latter caught him by the coat +sleeve and held on while she chattered like a +magpie to the young college man. She smiled and +shook her bobbed curls and altogether acted in a +rather ridiculous way.</p> +<p>Darry looked foolish, then annoyed. His sister +was in an ecstasy of delight. She enjoyed her big +brother’s annoyance. She and Jessie and Burd +had finished their cream.</p> +<p>“Come on, Darry,” Burd drawled, taking a hint +from the girls. “Sorry you are off your feed and +can’t finish George Washington’s finest product. +I’ll eat it for you, if you say so, and then we’ll +beat it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span></p> +<p>He reached casually for Darry’s plate; but the +latter would not yield it without a struggle. The +incident, however, gave Darry a chance to break +away from the insistent Belle. The latter stared +at the two girls at Darry’s table, sniffed, and +tossed her head.</p> +<p>“Yes, Mr. Drew,” she said in her high-pitched +voice, “I suppose you have to take the children +home in good season, or they would be chastised.”</p> +<p>“Ouch!” exclaimed Burd. “I bet that hurt you, +Amy.”</p> +<p>Darry had picked up both checks from the table. +Belle smiled up at him and moved her check to +the edge of her table as Darry rather grimly bade +her good-night. He refused to see that check, but +strode over to the desk to pay the others.</p> +<p>“That girl ought to get a job at a broadcasting +station,” growled out Darry, as they went out +upon the street. “I never knew before she was +such a chatterbox. Don’t need any radio rigging +at all where she is.”</p> +<p>“Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to get a chance to work +at a broadcasting station?” Amy cried. “We +could sing, Jess. You know we sing well together. +‘The Dartmoor Boy’ and ‘Bobolink, +Bobolink, Spink-spank-spink’ and––”</p> +<p>“And ‘My Old Kentucky Blues,’” broke in +Burd Alling. “If you are going to broadcast anything +like that, give us something up to date.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></p> +<p>“You hush,” Amy said. “If Jess and I ever +get the chance we shall be an honor to the program. +You’ll see.”</p> +<p>That the two young fellows had returned so +much earlier than had been expected was a very +fortunate thing, Jessie and Amy thought. For +their assistance was positively needed in the work +of making ready for the Fourth of July bazaar on +the Norwood place, they declared.</p> +<p>There were only three days in which to do +everything. “And believe me,” groaned Burd +before the first day was ended, “we’re doing everything. +Talk about being in training for the scrub +team!”</p> +<p>“It will do you good, Burdie,” cooed Amy, +knowing that the diminutive of Burd Alling’s +name would fret him. “You are getting awfully +plump, you know you are.”</p> +<p>“I feel it peeling off,” he grumbled. “Don’t +fear. No fellow will ever get too fat around you +two girls. Never were two such young Simon +Legrees before since the world began!”</p> +<p>But the four accomplished wonders. Of course +the committee and their assistants and some of +the other young people came to help with the +decorations. But the two girls and Amy’s older +brother and his friend set up the marquees and +strung the Japanese lanterns, in each of which was +a tiny electric light. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></p> +<p>“No candle-power fire-traps for us,” Jessie +said. “And then, candles are always blowing +out.”</p> +<p>About all the relaxation they had during the +time until the eve of the Fourth was in Jessie’s +room, listening to the radio concerts. Mr. Norwood +brought out from the city a two-step +amplifier and a horn and they were attached to the +instrument.</p> +<p>The third of the month, with the help of the +men servants on the Norwood place, the tent for +the radio concert was set up between the house +and the driveway, and chairs were brought from +the parish house to seat a hundred people. It was +a good tent, and there were hangings which had +been used in some church entertainment in the +past to help make it sound proof.</p> +<p>They strung through it a few electric bulbs, +which would give light enough. And the lead +wire from the aerials, well grounded, was brought +directly in from overhead and connected with the +radio set.</p> +<p>“I hope that people will patronize the tent generously,” +Jessie said. “We can give a show every +hour while the crowd is here.”</p> +<p>“What are you going to charge for admission?” +Amy asked.</p> +<p>“Momsy says we ought to get a quarter. But +ten cents––” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></p> +<p>“Ten cents for children, grown folks a quarter,” +suggested Amy. “The kids will keep coming +back, but the grown folks will come only once.”</p> +<p>“That is an idea,” agreed Jessie. “But what +bothers me is the fact that there are only concerts +at certain times. We ought to begin giving the +shows early in the afternoon. Of course, the +radio is just as wonderful when it brings weather +reports and agricultural prices as when Toscanini +sings or Volburg plays the violin,” and she +laughed. “But––”</p> +<p>“I’ve got it!” cried her chum, with sudden animation. +“Give lectures.”</p> +<p>“What! You, Amy Drew, suggesting such a +horrid thing? And who will give the lecture?”</p> +<p>“Oh, this is a different sort of lecture. Tell a +little story about the radio, what has already been +done with it, and what is expected of it in the +future. I believe you could do it nicely, Jess. +That sort of lecture I would stand for myself.”</p> +<p>“I suppose somebody has got to attend to the +radio and talk about it. I had not thought of +that,” agreed Jessie. “I’ll see what the committee +say. But me lecture? I never did think of doing +that!” she proclaimed, in no little anxiety.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_BAZAAR' id='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_BAZAAR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>THE BAZAAR</h3> +</div> +<p>When she had talked it over with Momsy +and Miss Seymour, however, Jessie Norwood +took up the thought of the radio +lecture quite seriously. Somebody must explain +and manage the entertainment in the radio tent, +and who better than Jessie?</p> +<p>“It is quite wonderful how much you young +people have learned about radio—so much more +than I had any idea,” said the school teacher. “Of +course you can write a little prose essay, Jessie, +get it by heart, and repeat it at each session in +the tent, if you feel timid about giving an off-hand +talk on the subject.”</p> +<p>“You can do it if you only think you can, Jessie,” +said her mother, smiling. “I am sure I have +a very smart daughter.”</p> +<p>“Oh, now, Momsy! If they should laugh at +me––”</p> +<p>“Don’t give them a chance to laugh, dear. +Make your talk so interesting and informative +that they can’t laugh.”</p> +<p>Thus encouraged, Jessie spent all the forenoon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +of the Fourth shut up in her own room making +ready for the afternoon and evening. She had +already made a careful schedule of the broadcasting +done by all the stations within reach of her +fine radio set, and found that it was possible, by +tuning her instrument to the wave lengths of different +stations, to get something interesting into +every hour from two o’clock on until eleven.</p> +<p>Naturally, some of the entertainments would +be more interesting or amusing than others; but +as New Melford people for the most part were +as yet unfamiliar with radio, almost anything out +of the air would seem curious and entertaining.</p> +<p>“Besides,” Burd Alling said in comment on +this, “for a good cause we are all ready and willing +to be bunkoed a little.”</p> +<p>“Let me tell you, Mr. Smarty,” said Amy, +“that Jessie’s lecture is well worth the price of +admission alone. Never mind the radio entertainment.”</p> +<p>“I’ll come to hear it every time,” agreed Burd. +“You can’t scare me!”</p> +<p>The radio had been carefully tried out in the +tent the evening before. The boys had got the +market reports and the early baseball scores out +of the air on Fourth of July morning, before the +bazaar opened. When Jessie came out after +luncheon to take charge of the radio tent, she +felt that she was letter perfect in the “talk” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +had arranged to introduce each session of the +wireless entertainment.</p> +<p>No admission was charged to the Norwood +grounds; but several of the older boys had been +instructed to keep an oversight of the entire place +that careless and possibly rough youngsters should +do no harm. The Norwoods’, like the Drews’ +was one of the show places of the Roselawn section +of New Melford. Boys and girls might do +considerable harm around the place if they were +not under discipline.</p> +<p>The girls and boys belonging to the congregation +of Dr. Stanley’s church were on hand as +flower sellers, booth attendants, and waitresses. +Ice-creams and sherbets were served from the +garage; sandwiches and cake from the house +kitchen, where Mrs. Norwood’s cook herself +presided proudly over the goodies.</p> +<p>In several booths were orangeade, lemonade, +and other soft drinks. The fancy costumes and +the funny masks the girls and boys wore certainly +were “fetching.” That the masks were the result +of a joke on Chip Truro’s part made them none +the less effective.</p> +<p>Amy was flying about, as busy as a bee. Darry +and Burd were at the head of the “police.” Miss +Seymour took tickets for the radio tent, and after +the first entertainment, beginning at two o’clock, +she complimented Jessie warmly on the success of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +her talk on radio with which the girl introduced +the show.</p> +<p>The lawns of the Norwood place began to be +crowded before two o’clock. Cars were parked +for several blocks in both directions. Special +policemen had been sent out from town to patrol +the vicinity. Dr. Stanley’s smile, as he walked +about welcoming the guests, expanded to an almost +unbelievable breadth.</p> +<p>The noisy and explosive Fourth as it used to +be is now scarcely known. Our forefathers did +not realize that freedom could be celebrated without +guns and firecrackers and the more or less +smelly and dangerous burning of powder.</p> +<p>“Now,” stated Burd Alling pompously, “we +celebrate the name of the Father of his Country +with a dish of fruit ice-cream. How are the +mighty fallen! A George Washington sundae, +please, with plenty of ‘sundae’ on it. Thank you!”</p> +<p>Then he gave up twice the price that he would +have had to pay at the Dainties Shop down town +for the same concoction to the young lady in the +Columbine skirt and the mask.</p> +<p>“Young Truro had it right,” grumbled Darry. +“It’s a hold-up.”</p> +<p>“But you know you like to be robbed for a +good cause,” chuckled Amy, who chanced to hear +these comments. “And remember that Doctor +Stanley is going to get his share out of this.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></p> +<p>“Right-o,” agreed Burd. “The doctor is all +right.”</p> +<p>“But we ought to pony up the money for his +support like good sports,” said Darry, continuing +to growl.</p> +<p>“You’d better ask him about that,” cried Amy. +“Do you know what the dear doctor says? He is +glad, he says, to know that so many people who +never would by any chance come to hear him +preach give something to the support of the +church. They are in touch with the church and +with him on an occasion like this, when by no other +means could they be made to interest themselves +in our church save to look at the clock face in the +tower as they go past.”</p> +<p>“Guess he’s right there,” said Burd. “I reckon +there are some men on the boulevard whose only +religious act is to set their watches by the church +clock as they ride by to town in their automobiles.”</p> +<p>However and whatever (to quote Amy again), +the intentions were that brought the crowd, the +Norwood place was comfortably filled. The +goodies were bought, the sale of fancy goods +added much to the treasury, and a bigger thing +than any other source of income was the admission +to the radio shows.</p> +<p>The children were not the most interested part +of the audience in the tent. From two o’clock +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +until closing time Jessie Norwood presided at +eight shows. She sometimes faced almost the +same audience twice. Not only did some of the +children pay their way in more than once, but +grown people did the same. Curiosity regarding +radio science was rife.</p> +<p>Doctor Stanley came more than once himself to +listen. And the minister’s boys wanted to take +the radio set all apart between shows to “see how +it went.”</p> +<p>“I bet we could build one our own selves,” +declared Bob Stanley.</p> +<p>“I betcha!” agreed Fred.</p> +<p>“Only, it will cost a lot of money,” groaned +the minister’s oldest son.</p> +<p>“You can do it for about ten dollars—if you +are ingenious,” said Jessie encouragingly.</p> +<p>“Gee whiz! That’s a lot of money,” said +Fred.</p> +<p>The girl knew better than to suggest lending +them or giving them the money. But she told +them all the helpful things she could about setting +up the radio paraphernalia and rigging the wires.</p> +<p>“I guess Nell would help us,” Bob remarked. +“She’s pretty good, you know, for a girl.”</p> +<p>“I like that!” exclaimed Jessie.</p> +<p>Bob Stanley grinned at her impishly.</p> +<p>In the evening when the electric lights were +ablaze the Norwood lawns were a pretty sight +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +indeed. People came in cars from miles away. It +was surprising how many came, it seemed, for the +purpose of listening to the radio. That feature +had been well advertised, and it came at a time +when the popular curiosity was afire through reading +so much about radio in the newspapers.</p> +<p>Among the hundreds of cars parked near by +were those of several of the more prosperous +farmers of the county. One ancient, baldheaded, +bewhiskered agriculturist sat through three of the +radio shows, and commented freely upon this +new wonder of the world.</p> +<p>“The telegraph was just in its infancy when I +was born,” he told Jessie. “And then came the +telephone, and these here automobiles, and flying +machines, and wireless telegraph, and now this. +Why, ma’am, this radio beats the world! It does, +plumb, for sure!”</p> +<p>The surprise and the comments of the audience +did not so much interest Jessie Norwood as the +fact that the money taken in by the tent show +would add vastly to the profit of the bazaar.</p> +<p>“You sure have beaten any other individual +concession on the lot,” Amy told her at the end +of the evening. “You know, Belle Ringold +bragged that she was going to take in the most +money at the orangeade stand, because it was a +hot night. But wait till we count up! I am sure +you have beaten her with the radio tent, Jess.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>Jealousy<br />Can It Be Possible?</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_JEALOUSY' id='CHAPTER_XIV_JEALOUSY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>JEALOUSY</h3> +</div> +<p>Jessie Norwood had not much personal +desire to “beat” either Belle Ringold or any +other worker for the bazaar; but she confessed +to a hope that the radio show had helped +largely to make up the deficit in church income +for which the bazaar had been intended.</p> +<p>Miss Seymour had added up after each show +the amount taken in at the door of the tent. Before +the lights were put out and the booths were +dismantled she was ready to announce to the +committee the sum total of the radio tent’s earnings.</p> +<p>“Goody! That will beat Belle, sure as you +live,” Amy cried when she heard it, and dragged +Jessie away across the lawn to hear the report +of the sum taken from the cash-drawer under the +orangeade counter. Groups of young people +milled around the “concession” which served the +delicious cooling drinks.</p> +<p>“Walk right up, ladies and gentlemen—and +anybody else that’s with you—and buy the last +of the chilled nectar served by these masked +goddesses. In other words, buy us out so we can +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +all go home.” It was Darry Drew up on a stool +ballyhooing for the soft drink booth.</p> +<p>“Did you ever?” gasped the young collegian’s +sister. “He is helping that Belle Ringold. I am +amazed at Darry!”</p> +<p>“He is helping the church society,” said Jessie, +composedly.</p> +<p>But she could easily believe that Belle had deliberately +entangled Darry in this thing. He never +would have chosen to help Belle in closing out her +supply of orangeade.</p> +<p>There she stood behind her counter, scarcely +helping wait on the trade herself, but aided by +three of her most intimate girl friends. Belle gave +her attention to Darry Drew. She seemed to consider +it necessary to steady him upon the stool +while he acted as “barker.”</p> +<p>“Come away, do!” sniffed Amy to Jessie. +“That brother of mine is as weak as water. Any +girl, if she wants to, can wind him right around +her finger.”</p> +<p>But Jessie did not wholly believe that. She +knew Darry’s character pretty well, perhaps better +than Amy did. He would be altogether too easy-going +to refuse to help Belle, especially in a good +cause. Belle Ringold was very shrewd, young +as she was, in the arts of gaining and holding the +attention of young men.</p> +<p>But Darry saw his sister coming and knew that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +Amy disapproved. He flushed and jumped down +from the stool.</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Drew! Darrington!” cried Belle, +languishingly, “you won’t leave us?” Then she, +too, saw Amy and Jessie approaching. “Oh, +well,” Belle sneered, “if the children need you, I +suppose you have to go.”</p> +<p>Burd, who stood by, developed a spasm of +laughter when he saw Amy’s expression of countenance, +but Jessie got her chum away before there +came any further explosion.</p> +<p>“Never you mind!” muttered Amy. “I know +you’ve got her beaten with your radio show. You +see!”</p> +<p>It proved to be true—this prophecy of Amy’s. +The committee, adding up the intake of the various +booths, reported that the radio tent had been +by far the most profitable of any of the various +money-making schemes. By that time the booths +were entirely dismantled and almost everybody +had gone home.</p> +<p>Belle and her friends had lingered on the Norwood +veranda, however, to hear the report. It +seemed that Belle had not achieved all that she had +desired, although with the restaurant department, +her stand had won a splendid profit. Of course, +the money taken in at the radio tent was almost +all profit.</p> +<p>“She just thought of that wireless thing so as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +to make the rest of us look cheap,” Belle was +heard to say to her friends. “Isn’t that always +the way when we come up here to the Norwoods’? +Jess skims the cream of everything. I’ll never +break my back working for a church entertainment +again if the Norwoods have anything to do with +it!”</p> +<p>Unfortunately Jessie heard this. It really +spoiled the satisfaction she had taken in the fact +that her idea, and her radio set, had made much +money for a good cause. She stole away from +her chum and the other young people and went +rather tearfully to bed.</p> +<p>Of course, she should not have minded so +keenly the foolish talk of an impertinent and unkind +girl. But she could not help wondering if +other people felt as Belle said she felt about the +Norwoods. Jessie had really thought that she +and Daddy and Momsy were very popular people, +and she had innocently congratulated herself +upon that fact.</p> +<p>The morning brought to Jessie Norwood more +contentment. When Momsy told her how the +ladies of the bazaar committee had praised Jessie’s +thoughtfulness and ingenuity in supplying the +radio entertainment, she forgot Belle Ringold’s +jealousy and went cheerfully to work to help +clear up the grounds and the house. Her radio +set was moved back to her room and she restrung +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +the wires and connected up the receiver without +help from anybody.</p> +<p>When Mr. Norwood came home that evening +both she and Momsy noticed at once that he was +grave and apparently much troubled. Perhaps, +if their thought had not been given so entirely +to the bazaar during the last few days, the +lawyer’s wife and daughter would before this +have noticed his worriment of mind.</p> +<p>“Is it that Ellison case, Robert?” Mrs. Norwood +asked, at the dinner table.</p> +<p>“It is the bane of my existence,” declared the +lawyer, with exasperation. “Those women are +determined to obtain a much greater share of the +estate than belongs to them or than the testator +ever intended. Their testimony, I believe, is +false. But as the apportionment of the property +of the deceased Mr. Ellison must be decided by +verbal rather than written evidence, the story +those women tell—and stick to—bears weight +with the Surrogate.”</p> +<p>“Your clients are likely to lose their share, +then?” his wife asked.</p> +<p>“Unless we can get at the truth. I fear that +neither of those women knows what the truth +means. Ha! If we could find the one witness, +the one who was present when the old man dictated +his will at the last! Well!”</p> +<p>“Can’t you find her?” asked Momsy, who had, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +it seemed, known something about the puzzling +case before.</p> +<p>“Not a trace. The old man, Abel Ellison, died +suddenly in Martha Poole’s house. She and the +other woman are cousins and were distantly related +to Ellison. He had a shock or a stroke, +or something, while he was calling on Mrs. Poole. +It did not affect his brain at all. The physicians +are sure of that. Their testimony is clear.</p> +<p>“But neither of them heard what the old man +said to the lawyer that Mrs. Poole sent for. McCracken +is a scaly practitioner. He has been +bought over, body and soul, by the two women. +You see, they are a sporty crowd—race track +habitues, and all that. The other woman—her +name is Bothwell—has driven automobiles in +races. She is a regular speed fiend, they tell me.</p> +<p>“Anyhow, they are all of a kind, the two women +and McCracken. As Ellison had never made a +will that anybody knows of, and this affidavit regarding +his dictated wishes is the only instrument +brought into court, the Surrogate is inclined +to give the thing weight.</p> +<p>“Here comes in our missing witness, a young +girl who worked for Mrs. Poole. She was examined +by my chief clerk and admitted she heard +all that was said in the room where Ellison died. +Her testimony diametrically opposes several +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +items which McCracken has written into the unsigned +testament of the deceased.</p> +<p>“You see what we are up against when I tell +you that the young girl has disappeared. Martha +Poole says she has run away and that she does +not know where she went to. The girl seems +to have no relatives or friends. But I have my +doubts about her having run away. I think she +has been hidden away in some place by the two +women or by the lawyer.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Daddy!” exclaimed Jessie, who had been +listening with interest. “That is just like the girl +I tried to tell you about the other night—little +Henrietta’s cousin. <i>She</i> was carried off by two +women in an automobile. What do you think, +Daddy? Could Bertha be the girl you are looking +for?”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_CAN_IT_BE_POSSIBLE' id='CHAPTER_XV_CAN_IT_BE_POSSIBLE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>CAN IT BE POSSIBLE?</h3> +</div> +<p>“What is this?” Mr. Norwood asked, +staring at his eager daughter. “Have +I heard anything before about a girl +being carried away?”</p> +<p>“Why, don’t you remember, Daddy, about +Henrietta who lives over in Dogtown, and her +cousin, Bertha, and how Bertha has disappeared, +and—and––”</p> +<p>“And Henrietta is the champion snake killer +of all this region?” chuckled Mr. Norwood. “I +certainly have a vivid remembrance of the snakes, +at any rate.”</p> +<p>“Dear me!” cried Momsy. “This is all new to +me. Where are the snakes, Jessie?”</p> +<p>“Gone to that bourne where both good and bad +snakes go,” rejoined her husband. “Come, Jessie! +It is evident I did not get all that you wanted +to tell me the other evening. And, it seems to me, +if I remember rightly, you got so excited over +your radio business before you were through that +you quite forgot the snakes—I mean forgot the +girl you say was run away with.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></p> +<p>“Don’t joke her any more, Robert,” advised +Momsy. “I can see she is in earnest.”</p> +<p>“You just listen here, Daddy Norwood,” Jessie +cried. “Perhaps you’ll be glad to hear about +Bertha. She is little Henrietta Haney’s cousin, +and Henrietta expected Bertha to come to see +her where she lives with the Foleys in Dogtown.</p> +<p>“Well, the day that Bertha was expected, she +didn’t come. That was the day Amy and I first +thought of building our radio. And when we +were walking into town we heard a girl screaming +in Dogtown Lane. So we ran in, and there was +this girl being pulled into an automobile by two +women.”</p> +<p>“What girl was this?” asked Mr. Norwood, +quite in earnest now. “A girl you and Amy +knew?”</p> +<p>“We had never seen her before, Daddy. And +I am not positive, of course, that she was Bertha, +Henrietta’s cousin. But Amy and I thought it +might be. And now you tell about two women +who want to keep a servant girl away from you, +and it might be the same.”</p> +<p>“It might indeed,” admitted Mr. Norwood +thoughtfully. “Tell me what the two women +looked like. Describe them as well as you can.”</p> +<p>Jessie did so. She managed, even after this +length of time, to remember many peculiarities +about the woman who drove the big car and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +fleshy one who had treated the girl so roughly. +Mr. Norwood exclaimed at last:</p> +<p>“I should not be at all surprised if that were +Martha Poole and Mrs. Bothwell. The descriptions +in a general way fit them. And if it is so, +the girl Jessie and Amy saw abused in that way +is surely the maid who worked for Mrs. Poole.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Robert! can it be possible, do you think?” +cried his wife.</p> +<p>“Not alone possible, but probable,” declared +Robert Norwood. “Jessie, I am glad that you +are so observant. I want you to get the little +girl from Dogtown some day soon and let me talk +with her. Perhaps she can tell me something +about her cousin’s looks that will clinch the matter. +At least, she can tell us her cousin’s full +name, I have no doubt.”</p> +<p>“It’s Bertha for a first name,” said Jessie, +eagerly. “And I supposed it was Haney, like +Henrietta’s.”</p> +<p>“The girl I am looking for is not named Haney, +whatever her first name may be. Anyway, it is +a chance, and I mean to get to the bottom of this +mysterious kidnaping if I can, Jessie. Let me +see this little Henrietta who kills snakes with +such admirable vigor,” and he laughed.</p> +<p>It was, however, no inconsiderable matter, as +Jessie well understood. In the morning she hurried +over to the Drew house to tell Amy about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +it. Both had been interested from the very beginning +in the mystery of the strange girl and her two +women captors. There was something wrong +with those women. Amy said this with a serious +shake of her head. You could tell!</p> +<p>And when, on further discussion, Jessie remembered +their names—Poole and Bothwell—this +fact brought out another discovery.</p> +<p>“Bothwell! I never did!” ejaculated Amy +Drew. “Why, no wonder I thought she looked +like somebody I knew. And she drives a fast +car—I’ll say she does. Jess Norwood! where +were our wits? Don’t you remember reading +about Sadie Bothwell, whose husband was one of +the first automobile builders, and she has driven +in professional races, and won a prize—a cup, or +something? And her picture was in the paper.”</p> +<p>“That is the person Daddy refers to,” Jessie +agreed. “I did not like her at all.”</p> +<p>“Ho! I should say not!” scoffed Amy. “And +I wasn’t in love with the fat woman. So she is +a race track follower, is she?” Then Amy giggled. +“I guess she wouldn’t follow ’em far afoot! +She isn’t so lively in moving about.”</p> +<p>“But where do you suppose they took Bertha—if +it was Henrietta’s cousin we saw carried off?”</p> +<p>“Now, dear child, I am neither a seventh +daughter of a seventh daughter nor––”</p> +<p>“Nor one of the Seven Sleepers,” laughed Jessie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +“So you cannot prophesy, can you? We will +go down to Dogtown this afternoon and see if +Mrs. Foley will let us bring Henrietta back to +see Daddy.”</p> +<p>“The child hasn’t been up to see you at all, has +she?” asked Amy.</p> +<p>“Why, no.”</p> +<p>“Maybe the woman won’t want her to come. +Afraid somebody may take little Hen away from +her. Did you see the child’s hands? They have +been well used to hard work. I have an idea +she is a regular little slave.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I hope not. It doesn’t seem to me as +though anybody could treat that child cruelly. +And she doesn’t seem to blame Mrs. Foley for +her condition.”</p> +<p>“Well, Hen knows how to kill snakes, but maybe +she is a poor judge of character,” laughed +Amy. “I’ll go with you and defend you if the +Foley tribe attack in force. But let’s go down +in the canoe. Then we can steal the cheeld, if +necessary. ‘Once aboard the lugger!’ you know, +‘and the gal is mine’.”</p> +<p>“To hear you, one would think you were a real +pirate,” scoffed Jessie.</p> +<p>At lunch time Nell Stanley had an errand in +the neighborhood, and she dropped in at the Drew +house. The three girls, Mrs. Drew being away, +had a gay little meal together, waited on by the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +Drew butler, McTavish, who was a very grave +and solemn man.</p> +<p>“Almost ecclesiastic, I’ll say,” chuckled Nell, +when the old serving man was out of the room. +“He is a lot more ministerial looking than the +Reverend. I expect him, almost any time, to say +grace before meat. Fred convulsed us all at the +table last evening. We take turns, you know, +giving thanks. And at dinner last evening it was +the Reverend’s turn.</p> +<p>“‘Say, Papa,’ Fred asked afterward—he’s +such a solemn little tike you have no idea what’s +coming—‘Say, Papa, why is it you say a so-much +longer prayer than I do?’</p> +<p>“‘Because you’re not old enough to say a long +one,’ Reverend told him.</p> +<p>“‘Oh!’ said Master Freddie, ‘I thought maybe +it was ’cause I wasn’t big enough to be as wicked +as you and I didn’t need so long a one.’ Now! +What can you do with a young one like that?” +she added, as the girls went off into a gale of +laughter.</p> +<p>But she had other news of her young brothers +besides this. Bob and Fred were enamored +of the radio. They were ingenious lads. Nell +said she believed they could rig a radio set with a +hair-pin and a mouse-trap. But she was going to +help them obtain a fairly good set; only, because +of the shortage of funds at the parsonage, Bob +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +and Fred would be obliged themselves to make +every part that was possible.</p> +<p>So she drew from Jessie and from Amy all they +knew about the new science, and Jessie ran across +to her house and got the books she had bought +dealing with radio and the installation of a set.</p> +<p>Jessie and Amy got into their outing clothes +when Nell Stanley had gone and embarked upon +the lake, paddling to the landing at despised Dogtown. +It was not a savory place in appearance, +even from the water-side. As the canoe drew +near the girls saw a wild mob of children, +both boys and girls, racing toward the broken +landing.</p> +<p>“Why! What are they ever doing?” asked +Jessie, in amazement, backing with her paddle.</p> +<p>“Chasing that young one ahead,” said Amy.</p> +<p>They were all dressed most fantastically, and +the child running in advance, an agile and bedrabbled +looking little creature, was more in masquerade +than the others. She wore an old poke +bonnet and carried a crooked stick, and there +seemed to be a hump upon her back.</p> +<p>“Spotted Snake! Spotted Snake! Miss Spotted +Snake!” the girls from Roselawn heard the +children shrieking, and without doubt this opprobrious +epithet referred to the one pursued.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>Spotted Snake, The Witch<br />Broadcasting</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_SPOTTED_SNAKE_THE_WITCH' id='CHAPTER_XVI_SPOTTED_SNAKE_THE_WITCH'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>SPOTTED SNAKE, THE WITCH</h3> +</div> +<p>“What are they trying to do to that poor +child?” repeated Jessie Norwood, as +the crowd swept down to the shore.</p> +<p>“Spotted snake! Spotted Snake!” yelled the +crowd, and spread out to keep the pursued from +running back. The hump-backed little figure with +poke-bonnet and cane was chased out upon the +broken landing.</p> +<p>“She will go overboard!” shrieked Jessie, and +drove in her paddle again to reach the wharf. +Amy, who was in the bow sheered off, but brought +the side of the canoe skillfully against the rough +planks.</p> +<p>“What are they doing to you, child?” Amy +cried.</p> +<p>“Goin’ to drown the witch! Goin’ to drown +the witch!” shrieked the rabble in the rear. “Spotted +Snake! Spotted Snake!”</p> +<p>“It’s little Henrietta!” screamed Jessie suddenly. +“Oh, Amy!”</p> +<p>Amy, who was strong and quick, reached over +the gunwale of the canoe and seized upon the +crooked figure. She bore it inboard, knocking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +off the old bonnet to reveal Henrietta’s freckled +little face. The cloak and the hump under it +were likewise torn off and went sailing away on +the current.</p> +<p>“For pity’s sake, Henrietta!” gasped Jessie.</p> +<p>“Yes’m,” said the child composedly. “Did you +come to see me?”</p> +<p>“Not expecting to see you in this—this shape,” +hesitated Jessie.</p> +<p>Amy went off into a gale of laughter. She +could not speak for a minute. Jessie demanded:</p> +<p>“Who are those awful children, Henrietta?”</p> +<p>“Part Foleys, some McGuires, two Swansons, +the Costeklo twins, and Montmorency Shannon,” +was the literal reply.</p> +<p>“What were they trying to do to you?”</p> +<p>“Drown me,” said Henrietta composedly. “But +they ain’t ever done it yet. I always manage to get +away. I’m cute, I am. But once they most nearly +burned me, and Mrs. Foley stopped <i>that</i>. So now +they mostly try to drown the witch.”</p> +<p>“‘The witch’?” murmured the amazed Jessie.</p> +<p>“Yep. That’s me. Spotted Snake, the witch. +That’s cause I’m so freckled. It’s a great game.”</p> +<p>“I should say it was,” marveled Jessie, and +immediately Amy began to laugh again. “I don’t +see how you can, Amy,” Jessie complained. “I +think it is really terrible.”</p> +<p>“I don’t mind it,” said Henrietta complacently. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +“It keeps ’em busy and out from under their +mothers’ feet.”</p> +<p>“But they shriek and yell so.”</p> +<p>“That don’t hurt ’em. And there’s plenty of +outdoors here to yell in. Where we moved from +in town, folks complained of the Foleys because +they made so much noise. But nobody ever complains +here in Dogtown.”</p> +<p>As Amy said, when she could keep from laughing, +it was a great introduction to Henrietta’s +home. They went ashore, and Henrietta, who +seemed to have a good deal of influence with the +children, ordered two of the boys to watch the +canoe and allow nobody to touch it. Then she +proudly led the way to one of the largest and certainly +the most decrepit looking of all the hovels +in Dogtown.</p> +<p>Mrs. Foley, however, was a cheerful disappointment. +She was, as Amy whispered, a “bulgy” +person, but her calico wrapper was fairly clean; +and although she sat down and took up her youngest +to rock to sleep while she talked (being too +busy a woman to waste any time visiting) she impressed +the girls from Roselawn rather favorably.</p> +<p>“That child is the best young one in the world,” +Mrs. Foley confessed, referring to “Spotted +Snake, the Witch.” “Sometimes I rant at her +like a good one. But she saves me a good bit, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +and if ever a child earned her keep, Hen earns +hers.”</p> +<p>Jessie asked about the missing cousin, Bertha.</p> +<p>“Bertha Blair. Yes. A good and capable girl. +Was out at service when Hen’s mother died and +left her to me. Something’s wrong with Bertha, +or she surely would have come here to see Hen +before this.”</p> +<p>“Did Bertha Blair work for a woman named +Poole?” Jessie asked.</p> +<p>“That I couldn’t tell you, Miss. But you +take Hen up to see your father, like you say you +want to. The child’s as sharp as a steel knife. +Maybe she’ll think of something that will put +him on the trace of Bertha.”</p> +<p>So they bore Spotted Snake away with them +in the canoe, while the Dogtown gang shrieked +farewells from the old landing. Henrietta had +been dressed in a clean slip and the smartest hair +ribbon she owned. But she had no shoes and +stockings, those being considered unnecessary at +Dogtown.</p> +<p>“I believe Nell could help us find something +better for this child to wear,” Amy observed, with +more thoughtfulness than she usually displayed. +“What do you think, Jess? Folks are always +giving the Stanleys half-worn clothes for little +Sally, more than Sally can ever make use of. And +Hen is just about Sally Stanley’s size.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p> +<p>“That might be arranged,” agreed Jessie. “I +guess you’d like to have a new dress, wouldn’t +you, Henrietta?”</p> +<p>“Oh, my yes! I know just what I would like,” +sighed Henrietta, clasping her clawlike hands. +“You’ve seen them cape-suits that’s come into +fashion this year, ain’t you? <i>That’s</i> what I’d +like.”</p> +<p>“My dear!” gasped Amy explosively.</p> +<p>“I don’t mind going barefooted,” said Henrietta. +“But if I could just have <i>one</i> dress in +style! I expect you two girls wear lots of stylish +things when you ain’t wearing sweaters and overall-pants +like you did the other day. I never had +anything stylish in my life.”</p> +<p>Amy burst into delighted giggles, but Jessie +said:</p> +<p>“The poor little thing! There is a lot in that. +How should we like to wear nothing but second-hand +clothes?”</p> +<p>“‘Hand me downs’,” giggled Amy. “But mind +you! A cape-coat suit! Can you beat it?”</p> +<p>“I saw pictures of ’em in a fashion book Mrs. +McGuire sent for,” went on Henrietta. “They +are awful taking.”</p> +<p>Little Henrietta proved to be an interesting +specimen for the Norwood family that evening. +Momsy took her wonted interest in so appealing +a child. The serving people were curious and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +attentive. Mr. Norwood confessed that he was +much amused by the young visitor.</p> +<p>A big dictionary placed in an armchair, raised +little Henrietta to the proper height at the Norwood +dinner table. Nothing seemed to trouble +or astonish the visitor, either about the food or +the service. And Jessie and Momsy wondered at +the really good manners the child displayed.</p> +<p>Mrs. Foley had not wholly neglected her duty +in Henrietta’s case. And there seemed to be, +too, a natural refinement possessed by the girl that +aided her through what would have seemed a trying +experience.</p> +<p>Best of all, Henrietta could give a good description +of her missing cousin. Her name was Bertha +Blair, and that was the name of the girl Mr. +Norwood’s clerk had interviewed before she had +been whisked away by Martha Poole and Sadie +Bothwell.</p> +<p>In addition, Mr. Norwood had brought home +photographs of the two women, and both Jessie +and Amy identified them as the women they had +seen in Dogtown Lane, forcing the strange girl +into the automobile.</p> +<p>“It is a pretty clear case,” the lawyer admitted. +“We know the date and the place where the missing +witness was. But the thing is now to trace the +movements of those women and their prisoner +after they drove away from Dogtown Lane.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span></p> +<p>Nevertheless, he considered that every discovery, +even a small one, was important. Detectives +would be started on the trail. Jessie and Amy +rode back to Dogtown in the Norwoods’ car with +the excited Henrietta after dinner, leaving her +at the Foleys’ with the promise that they would +see her soon again.</p> +<p>“And if those folks you know have any clothes +to give me,” said Henrietta, longingly, “I hope +they’ll be fashionable.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_BROADCASTING' id='CHAPTER_XVII_BROADCASTING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>BROADCASTING</h3> +</div> +<p>Darry and Burd were planning another +trip on the <i>Marigold</i>, and so had little +time to give to the girl chums of Roselawn. +Burd wickedly declared that Darry Drew +was running away from home to get rid of Belle +Ringold.</p> +<p>“Wherever he goes down town, she pops up +like a jack-in-the-box and tries to pin him. Darry +is so polite he doesn’t know how to get away. +But I know he wishes her mother would lock her +in the nursery.”</p> +<p>“It is her mother’s fault that Belle is such a +silly,” scoffed Amy. “She lets Belle think she is +quite grown up.”</p> +<p>“She’ll never be grown up,” growled out Darry. +“Never saw such a kid. If you acted like her, +Sis, I’d put you back into rompers and feed you +lollipops.”</p> +<p>“You’d have a big chance doing anything like +that to me, Master Darry,” declared his sister, +smartly. “Even Dad—bless his heart!—would +not undertake to turn back the clock on me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></p> +<p>Before the two young fellows left Roselawn +again, they did the girls a favor that Amy and +Jessie highly appreciated. It was done involuntarily +but was nevertheless esteemed. Mark +Stratford drifted up the Bonwit Boulevard in his +big and shiny car and halted it in front of the Norwood +place to hail Darry and Burd.</p> +<p>“Here’s the millionaire kid,” called out Alling. +“Know him, girls? He’s quite the fastest thing +that lingers about old Yale. Zoomed over the German +lines in the war, stoking an airplane, although +at that time he was only a kid. Mark Stratford. +His family are the Stratford Electric Company. +Oodles of money. But Mark is a patient soul.”</p> +<p>“‘Patient’?” repeated Jessie, wonderingly, as +she and Amy accompanied the young fellows down +to the street.</p> +<p>“Sure,” declared Burd. “Most fellows would +be impatient, burdened with so much of the filthy +lucre as Mark has. But not he. He is doing his +little best to spend his share.”</p> +<p>However, and in spite of Burd’s introduction, +Mark Stratford proved to be a very personable +young man and did not look at all the “sport.” +Jessie considered that Burd was very probably +fooling them about Mark. The young folks were +talking like old friends in five minutes. In five +minutes more they had piled into the car for a +ride. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span></p> +<p>Mark’s car “burned up the road” so fast that +in half an hour they came to Stratfordtown where +the huge plant of the Electric Company lay, and on +the border of which was the large Stratford +estate.</p> +<p>Jessie and Amy did not care anything about the +beauties of the show place of the county. While +riding over the girls had discussed one particular +topic. And when Mark asked them where they +wanted to go, or what they preferred to see, Jessie +spoke out:</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Stratford! take us to the plant and +let us go into the radio broadcasting room. Amy +and I are just longing to see how it is done.”</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>that!</i>” exclaimed Mark Stratford.</p> +<p>“We’re crazy about radio, Mr. Stratford,” +agreed Amy.</p> +<p>“Some radio fiends, these two,” said Darry. +And he told his friend to what use the girls had +already put Jessie’s set for the benefit of the +church bazaar.</p> +<p>“If you girls want to see how it’s done, to be +sure I’ll introduce you to the man in charge. Wait +till we drive around there.” Stratford was as +good as his word. It was a time in the afternoon +when the Electric Company’s matinee concert was +being broadcasted. They went up in the passenger +elevator in the main building of the plant to +a sort of glassed-in roof garden. There were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +several rooms, or compartments, with glass partitions, +sound-proof, and hung with curtains to cut +off any echo. The young people could stare +through the windows and see the performers in +front of the broadcasting sets. The girls looked +at each other and clung tightly to each other’s +hand.</p> +<p>“Oh, Amy!” sighed Jessie.</p> +<p>“If we could only get a chance to sing here!” +whispered Amy in return.</p> +<p>It did not mean much to the boys. And Mark +Stratford, of course, had been here time and time +again. A gray-haired man with a bustling manner +and wearing glasses came through the reception +room and Mark stopped him.</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Blair!” the collegian said. “Here +are some friends of mine who are regular radio +bugs. Let me introduce you to Miss Jessie Norwood +and Miss Amy Drew. Likewise,” he added, +as the gentleman smilingly shook hands with the +girls, “allow me to present their comrades in +crime, Darry Drew and Burdwell Alling. These +fellows help me kill time over at Yale, to +which the governor has sentenced me for four +years.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Blair?” repeated Jessie, looking sideways +at her chum.</p> +<p>“Mr. Blair?” whispered Amy, who remembered +the name as well as Jessie did. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></p> +<p>“That is my name, young ladies,” replied the +superintendent, smiling.</p> +<p>“You don’t know anything about a girl of our +age named Blair, do you, Mr. Blair?” Jessie +asked hesitatingly.</p> +<p>“I have no daughters,” returned the superintendent, +and the expression of his face changed +so swiftly and so strangely that Jessie did not +feel that she could make any further comment +upon the thought that had stabbed her mind. +After all, it seemed like sheer curiosity on her +part to ask the man about his family.</p> +<p>“Just the same,” she told Amy afterward, when +they were in the automobile once more, “Blair is +not such a common name, do you think?”</p> +<p>“But, of course, that Bertha Blair couldn’t be +anything to the superintendent of the broadcasting +station. Oh, Jessie! What a wonderful program +he had arranged for to-day. I am coming +over to-night to listen in on that orchestral concert +and hear Madame Elva sing. I would not +miss it for anything.”</p> +<p>“Suppose we could get a chance to help entertain!” +Jessie sighed. “Not, of course, on the +same program with such performers as these the +Stratford people have. But––”</p> +<p>They happened to be traveling slowly and +Mark overheard this. He twisted around in his +seat to say: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></p> +<p>“Why didn’t you ask Blair about it? You have +no idea how many amateurs offer their services. +And some of them he uses.”</p> +<p>“I’ll say he does!” grumbled Burd. “Some of +the singers and others I have listened in on have +been punk.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll have you know that Jessie and I +wouldn’t sing if we could not sing well,” Amy +said, with spirit.</p> +<p>“Sure,” agreed Burd, grinning. “Madame Elva +wouldn’t be a patch on you two girls singing +the ‘Morning Glories’ Buns’ or the ‘Midnight +Rolls’.”</p> +<p>“Your taste in music is mighty poor, sure +enough, Burd,” commented Darry. “Jessie sings +all right. She’s got a voice like a––”</p> +<p>“Like a bird, I know,” chuckled Alling. “That +is just the way I sing—like a Burd.”</p> +<p>“I’ve heard of a bird called a crow,” put in +Mark Stratford, smiling on the two girl chums. +Jessie thought he had a really nice smile. “That +is what your voice sounds like, Alling. You +couldn’t make the Glee Club in a hundred and +forty years.”</p> +<p>“Don’t say a word!” cried Burd. “I’ll be a +long time past singing before the end of that term. +Ah-ha! Here we are at Roselawn.”</p> +<p>They got out at the Norwood place and the girls +insisted upon Mark coming in to afternoon tea, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +which Amy and Jessie poured on the porch. The +chums liked Mark Stratford and they did not +believe that he was anywhere near as “sporty” +as Burd had intimated. Naturally, a fellow who +had driven a warplane and owned an airship now +and often went up in it, would consider the driving +of a motor-car rather tame. As for his college +record, Jessie and Amy later discovered that +Mark was a hard student and was at or near the +head of his class in most of his studies.</p> +<p>“And he drives that wonderful car of his,” said +Amy, with approval, “like a jockey on the track.”</p> +<p>The girl chums did not forget the concert they +expected to enjoy that evening, but Darry and +Burd left right after dinner for the moorings of +the <i>Marigold</i> at City Island. They took Mark +Stratford and some other college friends with +them for a three days’ trip on the yacht.</p> +<p>Jessie and Amy were eager to see the <i>Marigold</i>; +but their parents had forbidden any mixed +parties on the yacht until either Mr. and Mrs. +Drew, or Mr. and Mrs. Norwood could accompany +the young people. That would come later +in the summer.</p> +<p>Amy ran over to the Norwood place before +half past eight. The concert, Mr. Blair had told +them, was to begin at nine. Jessie had learned a +good deal about tuning in on the ether by this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +time; and there is no other part of radio knowledge +more necessary if the operator would make +full use of his set.</p> +<p>“The bedtime story is just concluded, Amy,” +Jessie said when her chum came in. “Sit down. +I am going to get that talk on ‘Hairpins and Haricots’ +by that extremely funny newspaper man—what +is his name?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. What’s in a name, anyhow?” +answered her chum, lightly.</p> +<p>Amy adjusted the earphones while her friend +manipulated the slides on the tuning coil. They +did not catch the first of the talk, but they heard +considerable of it. Then something happened—just +what it was Amy had no idea. She tore off +the ear-tabs and demanded:</p> +<p>“What <i>are</i> you doing, Jess? That doesn’t +sound like anything I ever heard before. Is it +static interference?”</p> +<p>“It certainly is interference,” admitted Jessie, +trying to tune the set so as to get back upon the +wave that had brought the funny talk about ‘Hairpins +and Haricots.’</p> +<p>But it did not work. Jessie could not get in +touch with the lecture. Instead, out of the ether +came one word, over and over again. And that +word in a voice that Jessie was confident must +come from a woman or a girl:</p> +<p>“Help! He-lp! He-e-lp!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span></p> +<p>Over and over again it was repeated. Amy +who had put on her head harness again, snatched +at her chum’s arm.</p> +<p>“Listen! Do you hear that?” she cried in an +awed tone.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>A Mystery of the Ether</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_A_MYSTERY_OF_THE_ETHER' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_A_MYSTERY_OF_THE_ETHER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>A MYSTERY OF THE ETHER</h3> +</div> +<p>Jessie knew that by carefully moving the +slides on her tuning coil she could get into +touch again with the talk to which she and +Amy had been listening. But now the broadcasted +cry for “Help!” seemed of so much importance +that she wanted to hear more of this +air mystery.</p> +<p>“He-lp!” The word came to their ears over +and over again. Then: “I am a prisoner. They +brought me here and locked me in. There is a +red barn and silo and two fallen trees. He-lp! +Come and find me!”</p> +<p>“For pity’s sake, Jess Norwood!” shrilled +Amy. “Do you hear that?”</p> +<p>“I’m trying to,” her chum replied. “Hush!”</p> +<p>“It must be a hoax.”</p> +<p>“Wait!”</p> +<p>They listened and heard it repeated, almost +word for word. A red barn and a silo and two +fallen trees. These points the strange voice insisted +on with each repetition.</p> +<p>“I can’t believe it!” declared Amy.</p> +<p>“It is a girl. I am sure it is a girl. Oh, Amy!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +gasped Jessie. “Suppose it should be the girl +whom we saw carried off by those two awful +women?”</p> +<p>“Bertha Blair?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Of course, I suppose that is awfully far-fetched––”</p> +<p>“Wait! Here it comes again,” whispered +Amy.</p> +<p>“Come and find me! Help! I am a prisoner! +The red barn and the silo with the two fallen +trees.”</p> +<p>How many times this was repeated the girls did +not know. Suddenly something cluttered up the +airways—some sort of interference—and the +mystery of the ether died away. No matter what +Jessie did to the tuning coil she could not bring +that strangely broadcasted message back to their +ears.</p> +<p>“What do you know about that?” demanded +Amy, breathlessly.</p> +<p>“Why—why,” murmured her chum, “we don’t +know much of anything about it. Only, I am sure +that was a girl calling. It was a youthful voice.”</p> +<p>“And I feel that it is Bertha Blair!” exclaimed +Amy. “Oh, Jessie, we must do something for +her.”</p> +<p>“How can we? How can we find her?”</p> +<p>“A red barn with a silo and two fallen trees. +Think of it! Did you ever see a place like that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +when you have been riding about the country?”</p> +<p>“I—nev-er—did!” and Jessie shook her head +despondently.</p> +<p>“But there must be such a place. It surely is +not a hoax,” said Amy, although at first she had +thought it was a joke. “And there is another +thing to mark, Jess.”</p> +<p>“What is that?”</p> +<p>“The place where this girl is kept a prisoner +has a broadcasting station. You can’t talk into a +radio set like this. There has to be electric power +and a generator, and all that—such as Mark +Stratford showed us there at Stratfordtown.”</p> +<p>“Of course.”</p> +<p>“Then don’t you think, Jessie, the fact that it +is a broadcasting plant where the girl is imprisoned +must narrow the inquiry a good deal?”</p> +<p>“How clever you are, dear,” declared Jessie. +“But a red barn with a silo and two fallen trees! +Why, Amy! we don’t know in which direction to +look. Whether to the north, south, east or west!”</p> +<p>“No-o. I suppose––Oh, wait, Jess!” cried +the excited Amy. “We don’t really know where +those women took that girl we saw carried off. +They drove out the boulevard as far as we could +see them. But, do you remember, we met that +Mrs. Bothwell again in the big French car that +very evening?”</p> +<p>“When we went to Parkville with Nell and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +the Brandons!” Jessie said eagerly. “I remember +she passed us. You pointed her out to me.”</p> +<p>“And she turned out of the very road we took +to go to Parkville,” said Amy, with confidence. +“I believe that red barn with the silo must be +over beyond Parkville.”</p> +<p>“It might be so,” admitted her chum, thoughtfully. +“I have never been through that section of +the state. But Chapman knows every road, I +guess.”</p> +<p>“Doesn’t your father know the roads, too?”</p> +<p>“But Daddy and Momsy have gone to Aunt +Ann’s in New York and will not be back to-night,” +Jessie explained.</p> +<p>“Anyhow we couldn’t go hunting around in the +dark after this broadcasting station, wherever it +is,” Amy observed.</p> +<p>“Of course not,” her chum agreed, taking the +harness off her head. “Come down to the telephone +and I’ll see if Chapman is in the garage.”</p> +<p>They ran downstairs, forgetting all about the +radio concert they were to have heard, and Jessie +called up the garage to which a private wire was +strung.</p> +<p>The chauffeur, who had served the Norwoods +ever since they had had a car, answered Jessie’s +request quickly, and appeared at the side door. +Amy was just as eager as Jessie to cross-question +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +the man about a red barn with a silo. He had to +ask the girls to stop and begin all over again, +and––</p> +<p>“If you please, Miss Jessie,” he added, widely +a-grin, “either let Miss Amy tell me or you tell +me. I can’t seem to get it right when you both +talk.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I am dumb!” announced Amy. “Go +ahead, Jess; you tell him.”</p> +<p>So Jessie tried to put the case as plainly as +possible; but from the look on Chapman’s face +she knew that the chauffeur thought that this was +rather a fantastic matter.</p> +<p>“Why, Chapman!” she cried, “you do not know +much about this radio business, do you?”</p> +<p>“Only what I have seen of it here, Miss Jessie. +I heard the music over your wires. But I did not +suppose that anybody could talk into the thing and +other folks could hear like––”</p> +<p>“Oh! You don’t understand,” Jessie interrupted. +“No ordinary radio set broadcasts. It +merely receives.”</p> +<p>As clearly as she could she explained what sort +of plant there must be from which the strange +girl had sent out her cry for help.</p> +<p>“Of course, you understand, the girl must have +got a chance on the sly to speak into the broadcasting +horn. Now, all the big broadcasting stations +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +are registered with the Government. And +if secret ones are established the Government +agents soon find them out.</p> +<p>“It might be, if the people who imprisoned this +girl are the ones we think, they may have a plant +for the sending out of information that is illegal. +For instance, it might have some connection with +race track gambling. One of the women is interested +in racing and the other in automobile contests. +If the broadcasting plant is near a race +course or an autodrome––”</p> +<p>“Now you give me an idea, Miss Jessie!” exclaimed +Chapman suddenly. “I remember a stock +farm over behind Parkville where the barns are +painted red. And there is a silo or two. Besides, +it is near the Harrimay Race Course. I could +drive over there in the morning, if you want to go. +Mr. Norwood won’t mind, I am sure.”</p> +<p>“Would you go, Amy?” Jessie asked, hesitatingly.</p> +<p>“Sure! It’s a chance. And I am awfully +anxious now to find out what that mysterious voice +means.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>A Puzzling Circumstance<br />Something Doing at the Stanley’s</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_A_PUZZLING_CIRCUMSTANCE' id='CHAPTER_XIX_A_PUZZLING_CIRCUMSTANCE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>A PUZZLING CIRCUMSTANCE</h3> +</div> +<p>Jessie’s parents being away, Amy ran home +and announced her desire to keep her chum +company and was back again before ten +o’clock. There was not much to be heard over +the airways after that hour. They had missed +Madame Elva and the orchestra music broadcasted +from Stratfordtown.</p> +<p>“Nothing to do but to go to bed,” Amy declared. +“The sooner we are asleep the sooner +we can get up and go looking for the mysterious +broadcasting station. Do you believe that cry +for help was from little Hen’s cousin?”</p> +<p>“I have a feeling that it is,” Jessie admitted.</p> +<p>“Maybe we ought to take Spotted Snake, the +Witch, with us,” chuckled her chum. “What do +you say?”</p> +<p>“I think not, honey. We might only raise hopes +in the child’s mind that will not be fulfilled. I +think she loves her cousin Bertha very much; and +of course we do not know that this is that girl +whose cry for help we heard.”</p> +<p>“We don’t really know anything about it. Maybe +it is all a joke or a mistake.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p> +<p>“Do you think that girl sounded as though she +were joking?” was Jessie’s scornful reply. “Anyway, +we will look into it alone first. If Chapman +can find the stock farm with the red barn––”</p> +<p>“And there are two fallen trees and a silo near +it,” put in Amy, smiling. “Goodness me, Jess! +I am afraid the boys would say we had another +crazy notion.”</p> +<p>“I like that!” cried Jessie Norwood. “What is +there crazy about trying to help somebody who +certainly must be in trouble? Besides,” she added +very sensibly, “Daddy Norwood will be very +thankful to us if we should manage to find that +Bertha Blair. He needs her to witness for his +clients, and Momsy says the hearing before the +Surrogate cannot be postponed again. The matter +must soon be decided, and without Bertha +Blair’s testimony Daddy’s clients may lose hundreds +of thousands of dollars.”</p> +<p>“We’ll be off to the rescue of the prisoner in +the morning, then,” said Amy, cuddling down into +one of her chum’s twin beds. “Good-night! +Sweet dreams! And if you have a nightmare +don’t expect me to get up and tie it to the bed-post.”</p> +<p>The next morning Chapman brought around +the car as early as half past eight, when the girls +were just finishing breakfast.</p> +<p>“Don’t eat any more, Amy,” begged Jessie. “Do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +get up for once from the table feeling that you +could eat more. The doctors say that is the +proper way.”</p> +<p>“Pooh! What do the doctors know about eating?” +scoffed Amy. “Their job is to tend to you +when you can’t eat. Why? honey! I feel lots better +morally with a full stomach than when I am +hungry.”</p> +<p>They climbed into the car and Chapman drove +out the boulevard and turned into the Parkville +road. It was a lovely morning, not too hot and +with only a wind made by their passage, so that the +dust only drifted behind the car. They passed +the home of Mr. and Mrs. Brandon’s daughter +and saw the aerials strung between the house and +the flagpole on the garage.</p> +<p>“Keep your eyes open for aerials anywhere, +Amy,” said Jessie. “Of course wherever that +broadcasting station is, the aerials must be observable.”</p> +<p>“They’ll be longer and more important than the +antenna for the usual receiving set, won’t they?” +eagerly asked Amy.</p> +<p>“Of course.” Then Jessie leaned forward to +speak to Chapman, for they were in the open car. +“When you approach the stock farm you spoke +of, please drive slowly. We want to look over +all the surroundings.”</p> +<p>“Very well, Miss Jessie,” the chauffeur said. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span></p> +<p>Passing through Parkville, they struck a road +called a turnpike, although there were no ticket-houses, +as there are at the ferries. It was an old +highway sweeping between great farms, and the +country was rolling, partly wooded, and not so +far off the railroad line that the latter did not +touch the race-track Chapman had spoken of.</p> +<p>The car skirted the high fence of the Harrimay +enclosure and then they ran past a long string +of barns in which the racing horses were housed +and trained for a part of the year. There was +no meet here at this time, and consequently few +horses were in evidence.</p> +<p>“I like to see horses race,” remarked Amy. +“And they are such lovely, intelligent looking +creatures. But so many people who have anything +to do with horses and racing are such hard-faced +people and so—so impossible! Think of +the looks of that Martha Poole. She’s the limit, +Jessie.”</p> +<p>“Neither she nor Mrs. Bothwell is nice, I admit. +But don’t blame it on the poor horses,” +Jessie observed, smiling. “I am sure it is not their +fault. Mrs. Poole would be objectionable if she +was interested in cows—or—or Pekingese pups.”</p> +<p>Chapman turned up a hilly road and they came +out on a ridge overlooking the fenced-in track. +The chauffeur shifted his position so as to glance +behind him at the girls, the car running slowly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></p> +<p>“Now look out, Miss Jessie,” he advised. “We +are coming to the old Gandy stock farm. That’s +the roof of the house just ahead. Yonder is the +tower they built to house the electric lighting plant +like what your father used to have. See it?”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes!” exclaimed Jessie. “But—but I +don’t see any aerials. No, I don’t! And the red +barn––”</p> +<p>“There it is!” cried Amy, grabbing at her +chum’s arm. “With the silo at the end.”</p> +<p>The car turned a corner in the road and the +entrance gate to the estate came into view. Up +the well kept lane, beyond the rambling house of +weathered shingles, stood a long, low barn and +a silo, both of a dull red color. And on either side +of the entrance gate were two broken willow trees, +their tall tops partly removed, but most of the +trunks still lying upon the ground where they had +fallen.</p> +<p>“Ha!” ejaculated the chauffeur. “Those trees +broke down since I was past here last.”</p> +<p>“Do drive slower, Chapman,” Jessie cried.</p> +<p>But she drew Amy down when the girl stood +up to stare at the barn and the tower.</p> +<p>“There may be somebody on watch,” Jessie +hissed. “They will suspect us. And if it is either +of those women, they will recognize you.”</p> +<p>“Cat’s foot!” ejaculated Amy. “I don’t see +any signs of occupancy about the house. Nor is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +there anybody working around the place. It +looks abandoned.”</p> +<p>“We don’t know. If the poor girl is shut up +here––”</p> +<p>“Where?” snapped Amy.</p> +<p>“Perhaps in the house.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps in the barn,” scoffed her chum. “Anyway, +every window of that tower, both the lower +and the upper stories, is shuttered on the +outside.”</p> +<p>“Maybe that is where Bertha is confined—if it +is Bertha.”</p> +<p>“But, honey! Where is the radio? There is +nothing but a telephone wire in sight. There is +no wireless plant here.”</p> +<p>“Dear me, Amy! don’t you suppose we have +come to the right place?”</p> +<p>The car was now getting away from the Gandy +premises. Jessie had to confess that there was +no suspicious looking wiring anywhere about the +house or outbuildings.</p> +<p>“It does not seem as though that could be the +place after all. What do you think, Chapman?” +she added, leaning forward again. “Don’t you +think that place looked deserted?”</p> +<p>“It often does between racing seasons, Miss +Jessie,” the man said. “Whoever owns it now +does not occupy it all the year.”</p> +<p>Suddenly Jessie sat up very straight and her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +face flamed again with excitement. She cried +aloud:</p> +<p>“Chapman! Isn’t there a village near? And +a real estate office?”</p> +<p>“Harrimay is right over the hills, Miss Jessie,” +said the chauffeur.</p> +<p>“Drive there at once, please,” said the girl. +“And stop at the office of the first real estate +agent whose sign you see.”</p> +<p>“For goodness sake, Jess!” drawled Amy, her +eyes twinkling, “you don’t mean to buy the Gandy +farm, do you?”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_SOMETHING_DOING_AT_THE_STANLEYS' id='CHAPTER_XX_SOMETHING_DOING_AT_THE_STANLEYS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>SOMETHING DOING AT THE STANLEYS’</h3> +</div> +<p>Chapman drove the automobile down into +Harrimay only ten minutes later. It +was a pretty but rather somnolent place, +just a string of white-painted, green-blinded houses +and two or three stores along both sides of an +oiled highway. It was a long ten-minute jitney +ride from the railway station.</p> +<p>“Perkins, Real Estate” faced the travelers +from a signboard as they drove into the village. +Chapman stopped before the office door, and the +eager Jessie hopped out.</p> +<p>“I’m coming, too! I’m coming, too!” squealed +Amy, running across the walk after her.</p> +<p>“Do be quiet,” begged her chum. “And for +once let me do the talking.”</p> +<p>“Oui, oui, Mademoiselle! As I haven’t the +least idea what the topic of the conversation will +be, I can easily promise that,” whispered Amy.</p> +<p>A high-collared man with eyeglasses and an +ingratiating smile arose from behind a flat-topped +desk facing the door and rubbed his hands as he +addressed the two girls. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></p> +<p>“What can I do for you, young ladies?”</p> +<p>“Why, why––Oh, I want to ask you—” +Jessie stammered. “Do you know who owns the +farm over there by the track? The Gandy +place?”</p> +<p>“The old Gandy stock farm, Miss?” asked the +real estate man with a distinct lowering of tone. +“It is not in the market. The Gandy place never +has been in the market.”</p> +<p>“I just wish to know who owns it,” repeated +Jessie, while Amy stared.</p> +<p>“The Gandys still own it. At least old man +Gandy’s daughter is in possession I believe. Horse +people, all of them. This woman––”</p> +<p>“Please tell me her name?”</p> +<p>“Poole, Martha Poole, is her name.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” cried Amy, seeing now what Jessie +wanted.</p> +<p>But Jessie shook her head at her chum warningly, +and asked the man:</p> +<p>“Do you know if Mrs. Poole is at the place +now?”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t say. She comes and goes. She is +always there when the racing is going on. It is +supposed that some things that go on there at the +Gandy place are not entirely regular,” said the +real estate man stiffly. “If you are a friend of +Mrs. Poole––”</p> +<p>“I am Jessie Norwood. My father, Mr. Robert +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +Norwood, is a lawyer, and we live in the Roselawn +section of New Melford.”</p> +<p>“Oh, ah, indeed!” murmured the real estate +man. “Then I guess it is safe to tell you that the +people around here do not approve of Mrs. Poole +and what goes on at the Gandy place during the +racing season. It is whispered that people there +are interested in pool rooms in the city. You +know, where betting on the races is conducted.”</p> +<p>“I do not know anything about that,” replied +Jessie, in some excitement. “But I thank you for +telling me about Martha Poole.”</p> +<p>She seized Amy by the arm and hurried back to +the automobile.</p> +<p>“What do you think of that?” gasped Amy, +quite as much amazed as was her chum.</p> +<p>“I do wish Daddy was coming home to-day. +But he isn’t. Not until dinner time, anyway. I +do believe, Amy Drew, that poor Bertha is hidden +away somewhere at that farm.”</p> +<p>“But—but––how could she get at any sending +station to tell her troubles to—to the air?” +and Amy suddenly giggled.</p> +<p>“Don’t laugh. It is a very serious matter, I +feel sure. If the poor girl actually isn’t being +abused, those women are hiding her away so that +they can cheat Daddy’s clients out of a lot of +money.”</p> +<p>“Again I ask,” repeated Amy, more earnestly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +“<i>how</i> could that girl, whoever she is, get to a sending +station? We did not see the first sign of an +aerial anywhere near that house and barn, or +above the tower, either.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know what it means. It is a mystery,” +confessed Jessie. “But I just <i>feel</i> that what we +heard over the radio had to do with that missing +girl—that it was Bertha Blair calling for help, +and that in some way she is connected with that +red barn and the silo and the two fallen trees. We +traced the place from her description.”</p> +<p>“So we did!”</p> +<p>“And unless it is all a big hoax, somewhere +near that place Bertha is held a prisoner. If that +Martha Poole is in with some crooked people +who break the state gambling law by radio, sending +news of the races to city gambling rooms, +she would commit other things against the law.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” cried Amy. “Both she and that Mrs. +Bothwell look like hard characters. But there +were no aerials in sight!”</p> +<p>Jessie thought for a moment. Then she flashed +at her chum:</p> +<p>“Well, that might be, too. Some people string +their aerials indoors. I don’t know if that can +be done at a sending station. But it may be. +They are inventing new things about radio all +the time. You know that, dear.”</p> +<p>“I know it,” agreed Amy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></p> +<p>“And if that broadcasting station up there at +the Gandy farm is used for the sending of private +racing information, in all probability the people +who set it up would want to keep it secret.”</p> +<p>“I see! So they would.”</p> +<p>“It is not registered, you can make up your +mind. And as it is only used much when the +racing season is on at the Harrimay track, the +Government has probably given it little attention.”</p> +<p>“Could they find it, do you think, Jessie?” +asked her chum.</p> +<p>“I have read that the Government has wonderful +means of locating any ‘squeak-box’, as they +call it, that is not registered and which litters up +the airways with either unimportant or absolutely +evil communications. These methods of tracing +unregistered sending stations were discovered during +the war and were proved thoroughly before +the Government allowed any small stations to be +established since.”</p> +<p>“Do you suppose the police knew that that +woman was sending racing news to gambling +rooms from up there at her farm?”</p> +<p>“We don’t know that she is. Mr. Perkins was +only repeating gossip. And we did not see aerials +up there.”</p> +<p>“But you say that maybe they could have rigging +for the station without any aerials in the +open?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></p> +<p>“It might be. I am all confused. There certainly +is a mystery about it, and Daddy Norwood +ought to know at once. Oh, Chapman! That +was thunder. We must hurry home.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Miss Jessie,” said the chauffeur, looking +up at the clouds that had been gathering. “I +think I can get you home before it rains.”</p> +<p>He increased the speed of the car. They had +circled around by another way than the Parkville +road, and they came through the edge of New +Melford. When the automobile shot into Bonwit +Boulevard and headed toward Roselawn +the first flash of lightning made the girls jump.</p> +<p>Chapman stepped on the accelerator and the +car shot up the oiled way. The thunder seemed +to explode right overhead. Before the first peal +rolled away there was another sharp flash. Although +the rain still held off, the tempest was +near.</p> +<p>“Oh!” gasped Jessie, covering her eyes.</p> +<p>“There’s the church,” said Amy. “We’ll soon +be home now.”</p> +<p>Even as she spoke another crackling stroke +burst overhead. The green glare of it almost +blinded them. The thunder shook the air. Jessie +screamed.</p> +<p>“See! See! Look at the parsonage!” she +cried in Amy’s ear.</p> +<p>“Why, the boys must have already strung their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +wires and got a radio set established,” said Amy.</p> +<p>“Look at the window—that attic window!” +Jessie exclaimed. “Don’t you see what I see, +Amy Drew?”</p> +<p>“It’s smoke!” said the other girl, amazed.</p> +<p>“The house is afire! In the attic! That lightning +must have struck there. It must have been +led in by the wires, just as Momsy feared.”</p> +<p>“Then the boys never closed their switch!” +cried Amy. “Oh! I wonder if Doctor Stanley +or Nell knows that the house is on fire?”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>A Great To-Do<br />Silk<br />Darry’s Big Idea</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_A_GREAT_TODO' id='CHAPTER_XXI_A_GREAT_TODO'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>A GREAT TO-DO</h3> +</div> +<p>“Chapman! Stop!” shouted Jessie. “We +must tell them!”</p> +<p>The chauffeur wheeled the car in toward +the curb and stopped as quickly as he could. +But it was some distance past the church and the +parsonage.</p> +<p>The girls jumped out and ran back. They saw +Dr. Stanley come out on the porch from his study. +He was in his house gown and wore a little +black cap to cover his bald spot. It was a little +on one side and gave the good clergyman a +decidedly rakish appearance.</p> +<p>“Come in here, children! Hurry! It is going +to rain,” he called in his full and mellow voice.</p> +<p>“Oh, Doctor! Doctor!” Jessie gasped. “The +fire! The fire!”</p> +<p>“Why, you are not wet. Here come the first +drops. You don’t need a fire.”</p> +<p>“Nor you don’t need one, Doctor,” and Amy +began to laugh. “But you’ve got one just the +same.”</p> +<p>“In the kitchen stove. Is it a joke or a conundrum?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +asked the smiling minister, as the two +chums came up under the porch roof just as the +first big drops came thudding down.</p> +<p>“Upstairs! The radio!” declared the earnest +Jessie. “Don’t you know it’s afire?”</p> +<p>“The radio afire?”</p> +<p>“The lightning struck it. Didn’t you feel and +hear it? The boys must have left the switch to +the receiver open, and the lightning came right +in––”</p> +<p>“Come on!” broke in Amy, who knew the way +about the parsonage as well as she did about her +own house. “We saw the smoke pouring out of +the window,” and she darted in and started up +the front stairway.</p> +<p>“Why, why!” gasped the good doctor. “I can +hardly believe Nell would be so careless.”</p> +<p>“Oh, it isn’t Nell,” Jessie said, following her +chum. “It is the boys.”</p> +<p>“But she always knows what the boys are up +to, and Sally, too,” declared the minister, confident +of his capable daughter’s oversight of the +family.</p> +<p>The girls raced up the two flights. They +smelled the smoke strongly as they mounted the +second stairway to the garret. Then they heard +voices.</p> +<p>“They’ve got it right in the old lumber room, +Jess!” panted Amy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></p> +<p>“But why don’t they give the alarm?”</p> +<p>“Trying to put it out themselves. We ought +to have brought buckets!”</p> +<p>“There is no water on this floor!”</p> +<p>Amy banged open the door of the big room in +which they knew, by the arrangement of the outside +wires, Bob and Fred must have set up the +radio set. Amy plunged in, with Jessie right behind +her. The room was unpleasantly filled with +smoke.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you put it out?” shrieked Amy, +and then began to cough.</p> +<p>“Hullo!” Bob Stanley exclaimed out of the +smother. “We want to put it in, not out. Hullo, +Jess. You here, too?”</p> +<p>“The fire! The smoke!” gasped Jessie.</p> +<p>“Shucks,” said Fred, who was down on his +knees poking at something. “We can’t have the +windows open, for the rain is beating this way. +We’ve got to solder this thing. Did you have +trouble with yours, Jess?”</p> +<p>“Sweetness and daylight!” groaned a voice behind +them.</p> +<p>Dr. Stanley stood in the doorway. He was a +heavy man, and mounting the stairs at such a +pace tried his temper as well as his wind.</p> +<p>“Is <i>this</i> what started you girls off at such a +tearing pace? Why, the boys borrowed that soldering +outfit from the plumber. It’s all right.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></p> +<p>“I am so sorry we annoyed you,” said Jessie, +contritely.</p> +<p>But Amy had begun to laugh and could say +nothing. Only waved her hands weakly and +looked at the clergyman, whose cap was much +more over his ear than before.</p> +<p>“Right in the middle of Sunday’s sermon, young +ladies,” said the minister, with apparent sternness. +“If that sermon is a failure, Amy and Jessie, +I shall call on one of you girls—perhaps both of +you—to step up into the pulpit and take my place. +Remember that, now!” and he marched away in +apparent dudgeon; but they heard him singing +“Onward Christian Soldiers” before he got to the +bottom of the upper flight of stairs.</p> +<p>“But it certainly was a great to-do,” murmured +Jessie, as she tried to see what the boys were +doing.</p> +<p>She was able to advise them after a minute. +But Amy insisted upon opening one of the windows +and so getting more of the smoke out of the +long room.</p> +<p>“You boys don’t even know how to make a fire +in a fire-pot without creating a disturbance,” she +said.</p> +<p>Nell came up from the kitchen where she had +been consulting the cook about the meals, and +Sally came tagging after her; of course, with a +cookie in one hand and a rag doll in the other. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span></p> +<p>“This Sally is nothing but a yawning cavity +walking on hollow stilts,” declared Nell, who +“fussed” good-naturedly, just as her father did. +“She is constantly begging from the cook between +meals, and her eyes are the biggest things about +her when she comes to the table.”</p> +<p>“Ain’t,” said Sally, shaking her curls in +denial.</p> +<p>“Ain’t what?” asked Jessie.</p> +<p>“Ain’t—ain’t <i>if you please</i>,” declared the little +girl, revealing the fact that her sister had tried to +train her in politeness.</p> +<p>When the girls stopped laughing—and Sally +had finished the cookie—Nell added:</p> +<p>“Aunt Freda came last night to dinner and we +had strawberry fool. Cook makes a delicious +one. And Sally could eat her weight of that +delicacy. When I came to serve the dessert Sally +was watching me with her eagle eye and her +mouth watering. I spooned out an ordinary dishful, +and Sally whispered:</p> +<p>“‘Oh, sister! is <i>that</i> all I get?’</p> +<p>“So I told her it was for Aunt Freda, and she +gasped:</p> +<p>“‘What! All <i>that</i>?’”</p> +<p>The boys got the thing they wanted soldered +completed about this time, and Bob ran down the +back way with the fire-pot. The rain began to +lift. As Nell cheerfully said, a patch of blue sky +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +soon appeared in the west big enough to make a +Scotchman a kilt, so they could be sure that it +would clear.</p> +<p>Jessie and Amy walked home after seeing the +Stanley boys’ radio set completed. Their minds +then naturally reverted to the adventures of the +morning and what they had heard so mysteriously +out of the ether the evening before. Jessie had +warned her chum to say nothing to anybody about +the mysterious prisoner and the stock farm over +by Harrimay or of their suspicions until she had +talked again with Mr. Norwood.</p> +<p>Momsy came home that afternoon from Aunt +Ann’s, but Mr. Norwood did not appear. The +Court was sitting, and he had several cases which +needed his entire attention. He often remained +away from home several days in succession at +such times.</p> +<p>“And one of the most important cases is that +one he told us about,” Momsy explained. “He is +greatly worried about that. If he cannot find +that girl who lived with Mrs. Poole––”</p> +<p>“Oh, Momsy!” exclaimed Jessie, “let us find +Daddy and tell him about what Amy and I heard +over the radio. I believe we learned something +about Bertha Blair, only we could not find her +this morning.”</p> +<p>She proceeded to explain the adventure which +included the automobile trip to Harrimay and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +the Gandy farm. Momsy became excited. It did +not really seem to her to be so; but she agreed +that Daddy Norwood ought to hear about it.</p> +<p>When they tried to get him on the long distance +telephone, however, the Court had closed for the +day and so had the Norwood law office. He was +not at his club, and Momsy did not know at which +hotel he was to spend the night. There +really seemed to be nothing more Jessie could do +about the lost witness. And yet she feared that +this delay in getting her father’s attention would +be irreparable.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII_SILK' id='CHAPTER_XXII_SILK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>SILK!</h3> +</div> +<p>Belle Ringold and Sally Moon came +up to the Norwood place the next forenoon +and found Jessie and Amy in a porch +hammock, their heads together, writing a letter +to Jessie’s father. Jessie had tried to get Robert +Norwood at his office right after breakfast, but a +clerk had informed her that Mr. Norwood was +not expected there until later. He would go +direct to court from his hotel.</p> +<p>“And they have no more idea where he went +to sleep than Momsy had,” Jessie had explained +to her chum when Amy appeared, eager and curious. +“He is so busy with his court work that +he does not want to be disturbed, I know. But it +seems to me that what we heard over the radio +ought to be told to him.”</p> +<p>It was Amy who had suggested the writing of +the letter and having it taken into town by Chapman, +the chauffeur. The coming of Belle and +Sally disturbed the chums in the middle of the +letter. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></p> +<p>“Glad we found you here, Amy,” said Belle. +“You never are at home, are you?”</p> +<p>“Only to sleep,” confessed Amy Drew. “What +seems to be the trouble, ladies? Am I not to be +allowed to go calling?”</p> +<p>“Oh, we know you are always gadding over +here,” said Sally, laughing. “You are Jessie’s +shadow.”</p> +<p>“Ha, ha! and likewise ho, ho!” rejoined Amy. +“In this case then, the shadow is greater than the +substance. I weigh fifteen pounds more than +Jess. We’ll have to see about that.”</p> +<p>“And I suppose your brother, Darrington, is +over here, too?” asked Belle, her sharp eyes glancing +all about the big veranda.</p> +<p>“Wrong again,” rejoined Amy, cheerfully. +“But if you have any message for Darry you can +trust me to deliver it to him.”</p> +<p>“Where is he?”</p> +<p>“Just about off Barnegat, if his plans matured,” +said Amy composedly.</p> +<p>“Oh!” cried Belle. “Did he go out on that +yacht? And without taking any of us girls?” and +she began to pout.</p> +<p>“No mixed parties until the family can go +along,” Amy said promptly. “Jess and I, even, +haven’t been aboard the <i>Marigold</i>.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you children!” scoffed Belle. “I shouldn’t +think that Darry and Burd Alling and that Mark +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +Stratford would want little girls tagging them. +Why, they are in college.”</p> +<p>Belle really was a year older than the chums; +but she acted, and seemed to feel, as though she +were grown up. Amy stared at her with wide +eyes.</p> +<p>“Well, I like your nerve!” said she. “Darry’s +my brother. And I’ve known Burd Alling since +he and Darry went to primary school. And so +has Jess. I guess they are not likely to take +strangers off on that yacht with them before they +take Jess and me.”</p> +<p>Belle tossed her head and laughed just as +though she considered Amy’s heated reply quite +childish.</p> +<p>“Oh, dear me,” she proclaimed. “To hear +you, one would think you were still playmates, all +making mud pies together. I don’t know that you +and Jess, Amy Drew, ever will be grown up.”</p> +<p>“Hope not, if we have to grow into anything +that looks and acts like you,” grumbled Amy.</p> +<p>But Jessie tried to pour oil on the troubled +waters. “Just what did you come for, Belle?” she +asked. After all, she must play hostess. “Is it +anything I can do for you?”</p> +<p>“Some of us older girls are going to have a box +party down at the Carter Landing on Lake +Monenset the first moonlight night. Sally and I +are on the committee of arrangements. We want +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +to talk it over with Darrington and Burd and +get them to invite Mark Stratford.”</p> +<p>“Humph! You’ll have to use long distance +or radio,” chuckled Amy.</p> +<p>“Now, don’t interfere, Amy!” said Belle +sharply.</p> +<p>“Wait,” Jessie said, in her quiet way. “Don’t +let us argue over nothing. The boys really are +off on their boat. We do not know just when +they are coming back. Why don’t you write +Darry a note and leave it at the house?”</p> +<p>“Humph! I wonder if he’d get it?” snapped +Belle, with her face screwed up as though she had +bitten into something awfully sour.</p> +<p>“Well! I like her impudence,” muttered Amy, +as Belle and Sally disappeared. “I don’t see how +her mother ever let her grow up.”</p> +<p>“It is not as bad as all that,” her chum said +gravely. “But it is awfully silly for Belle and +those girls who go with her to be thinking of the +boys all the time, and trying to get the older boys +to show an interest in them. That is perfectly +ridiculous.”</p> +<p>“You’re right,” said Amy, bluntly. “And +Darry and Burd think that Belle is foolish.”</p> +<p>“Now, let’s finish this letter to Daddy,” Jessie +said, hastily. “And then, oh, Amy Drew, I have +an idea!”</p> +<p>“Another idea?” cried her friend. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></p> +<p>“I don’t know whether there is anything in it +or not. But listen. Don’t you think we might +get Henrietta, take her over to the Gandy place, +and look around again for Bertha?”</p> +<p>“We-ell, I admit that kid has got sharp eyes. +But how could she see into those buildings that +are all shut up any better than we could when we +were over there?”</p> +<p>“You don’t just get my idea, honey. If the +girl who radioed her message, and which we +heard, is Henrietta’s cousin, she will know Henrietta’s +voice. And if Henrietta calls her from +outside, maybe she can shout and we will hear +her.”</p> +<p>“That is an idea!” exclaimed Amy. “It might +work, at that.” Then she laughed. “Anyway, +we can give Hen a ride. Hen certainly likes riding +in an automobile.”</p> +<p>“And Nell has got an almost new dress and +other things for her. Let us go down to the +parsonage and get them. And while Chapman +goes to town with this letter we’ll paddle around +to Dogtown and get Henrietta.”</p> +<p>“Fine!” cried Amy, and ran home for her hat.</p> +<p>A little later, when she had returned from the +parsonage with the bundle and the chums were +embarked upon the lake, Jessie said:</p> +<p>“I hope the poor little thing will like this dress +that Nell was so kind as to find for her. But, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +to tell the truth, Amy, it seems a little old for +Henrietta.”</p> +<p>“Is it a cape-coat suit?” giggled her friend.</p> +<p>“It is a little taffeta silk, and Nell said it was +cut in a style so disgracefully freakish that she +would not let Sally wear it. It was bought at one +of those ultra-shops on Fifth Avenue where they +have styles for children that ape the frocks their +big sisters wear.”</p> +<p>“Let’s see it,” urged Amy, with curiosity.</p> +<p>“Wait till you see it on Henrietta. There are +undies, too, and stockings and a pair of shoes that +I hope will fit her. But consider! Taffeta silk +for a child like Henrietta.”</p> +<p>There could be no doubt that the girls from +Roselawn were welcome when they landed at +Dogtown and came to the Foley house. The +greater number of the village children seemed to +have swarmed elsewhere; but little Henrietta was +sitting on the steps of the house holding the next-to-the-youngest +Foley in her arms.</p> +<p>“Hush!” she hissed, holding up an admonishing +finger. “He’s ’most gone. When he goes I’ll +lay him in that soap-box and cover him with the +mosquito netting. Then I can tend to you.”</p> +<p>“The little, old-fashioned thing,” murmured +Amy. “It isn’t right, Jess.”</p> +<p>Jessie understood and nodded. She was glad +that Amy showed a certain amount of sympathy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +for Henrietta and appreciation of her. In a few +moments the child was utterly relaxed and Henrietta +got up and staggered over to the soap-box +on wheels and laid the sleeper down upon a +pillow.</p> +<p>“He ought to sleep an hour,” said little Henrietta, +covering Billy Foley carefully so that the +flies could not bite his fat, red legs. “I ain’t got +nothing to do now but to sweep out the house, +wash the dishes in the sink, clean the clinkers out +of the stove, hang out a line for clothes, and make +the beds before Mrs. Foley and the baby get back. +I can talk to you girls while I’m doing them +things.”</p> +<p>“Landy’s sake!” gasped Amy, horrified.</p> +<p>But Jessie determined to take matters in her +own hands for the time being, Mrs. Foley not +being present. She immediately unrolled the bundle +of things she had brought, and Henrietta +halted on the step of the house, poised as though +for flight, her pale eyes gradually growing rounder +and rounder.</p> +<p>“Them ain’t for <i>me</i>?”</p> +<p>“If they fit you, or can be made to fit you, +honey,” said Jessie.</p> +<p>“Oh, the poor child!” exclaimed Amy softly, +taking care that Henrietta should not hear her.</p> +<p>“Silk!” murmured Henrietta, and sat down +on the step again, put her arms out widely and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +squeezed the silk dress up to her flat little body as +though the garment was another baby.</p> +<p>“Silk!” repeated the poor little thing. “Miss +Jessie! How good you are to me! I never did +have a thing made of silk before, ’cepting a +hair-ribbon. And I never had any too many of +them.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII_DARRYS_BIG_IDEA' id='CHAPTER_XXIII_DARRYS_BIG_IDEA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>DARRY’S BIG IDEA</h3> +</div> +<p>When Mrs. Foley and the baby arrived +home there stood upon the platform at +the back door of the house a most amazing +figure. She knew every child in Dogtown, +and none of them had ever made such an appearance. +She almost dropped the baby through +amazement.</p> +<p>“For love of John Thomas McGuire!” burst +forth the “bulgy” woman, finally finding her voice. +“What’s happened to that child? Is it an angel +she’s turned into? Or is she an heiress, I dunno? +Hen Haney! what’s the meaning of this parade? +And have you washed the dishes like I told you?”</p> +<p>“You must forgive her, Mrs. Foley,” Jessie +said, coming down to meet the woman and taking +the baby from her. “Go and see and speak to the +child,” she whispered. “She is so delighted that +she has not been able to talk for ten minutes.”</p> +<p>“Then,” said Mrs. Foley solemnly, “the +wor-r-rld has come to an end. When Hen Haney +can’t talk––”</p> +<p>But she mounted heavily to the platform. Little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +Henrietta stood there like a wax figure. She +dared not move for fear something would happen +to her finery.</p> +<p>Every individual freckle on her thin, sharp face +seemed to shine as though there was some radiance +behind it. Absurd as that taffeta dress was for a +child of her age, it seemed to her an armor against +all disaster. Nothing bad (she had already acclaimed +it to Amy and Jessie) could happen to +her with that frock on. And those silk stockings! +And the patent-toed shoes! And a hat that +almost hid the child’s features from view!</p> +<p>“Well, well, well!” muttered the amazed Mrs. +Foley. “If anybody had ever told me that you’d +have been dressed up like—like a millionaire’s +kid! When I took you away from your poor +dead mother and brought you out here, Hen +Haney, to be a playfellow of me little Charlie, +and Billy, and—and—Well, anyway, to be a playmate +to them. Ha! You never cleaned out the +stove-grate, did you?”</p> +<p>She had looked into the kitchen and saw the +dishes in the sink and the gaping stove hearth, and +shook her head. Jessie thought it time to intercede +for the little girl.</p> +<p>“You must forgive her, Mrs. Foley, and blame +me. I made her dress up in the things we +brought. I was sure you would want to see her +in her Sunday clothes.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p> +<p>A deep sigh welled up from Henrietta’s chest. +“Am I going to sure-enough keep ’em to wear +Sundays?” she asked.</p> +<p>“If Mrs. Foley will let you,” said the politic +Jessie. “You can keep them very carefully. It is +really wonderful how well they fit.”</p> +<p>“Sure,” sighed Mrs. Foley, “she’s better +dressed than me own children.”</p> +<p>“But you told us your children were all boys,” +Amy put in quickly.</p> +<p>“Aw, but a time like this I wish’t I had a daughter,” +declared the woman, gazing at Henrietta +almost tenderly. “What a sweet little colleen she +might be if she had some flesh on her bones and +something besides freckles to color her face. Yes, +yes!”</p> +<p>“I am awfully glad, Mrs. Foley,” said Jessie +quickly, “to see how much you approve of what +we have tried to do for Henrietta. So I am bold +enough to ask you to let us take her up to my +house for over night. Momsy wants to see her +in these new clothes, and––”</p> +<p>“Well, if Mrs. Momsy—Or is it Mr. Momsy, +I dunno?”</p> +<p>“Why, Momsy is my mother!”</p> +<p>“The like o’ that now! And she lets you call +her out o’ name? Well, there is no understanding +you rich folks. Ha! So you want to take little +Hen away from me?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></p> +<p>“Only for over night. It would be a little +vacation for her, you know.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Foley looked back into the kitchen and +shook her head. “By the looks o’ things,” she +said, “she’s been having a vacation right here. +Well, she’ll be no good for a while anyway, I can +see that. Why, she can’t much more than speak +with them glad rags on her.”</p> +<p>“Come on,” said Henrietta, and walked down +the steps, heading toward the lake.</p> +<p>Amy burst into laughter again, and even Mrs. +Foley began to grin.</p> +<p>“She’s as ready to go as though you two young +ladies was her fairy god-mothers. Sure, and +maybe ’tis me own fault. I’ve been telling her for +years about the Good Little People that me +grandmother knew in Ireland—or said she knew, +God rest her soul!—and she has always been +looking for banshees and ha’nts and fairies to +appear and whisk her away. She is a princess in +disguise that’s been char-r-rmed by a wicked witch. +All them stories and beliefs has kept her contented. +She’s a good little thing,” Mrs. Foley +ended, wiping her eyes. “Go along with her and +tell your Mrs. Momsy to be good to her.”</p> +<p>So they got away from Dogtown with flying +colors. Henrietta sat, a little silk-clad figure, in +the bottom of the canoe and shivered whenever +she thought a drop of water might come inboard. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span></p> +<p>“She ought to have worn her old clothes in the +canoe,” Amy suggested, but with dancing eyes.</p> +<p>“O-o-oh!” gasped Henrietta, pleadingly.</p> +<p>“It is going to take dentist’s forceps to ever get +the child out of that dress,” chuckled Jessie. “I +can see that.”</p> +<p>They got back to Roselawn in good season for +dinner. Chapman had returned from town, but +had not brought Mr. Norwood home. Jessie’s +father, it seemed, had left the courtroom early +in the afternoon and had gone out of town on +some matter connected with the Ellison case. +That case, as Jessie and her mother feared, was +already in the court. A jury had been decided +upon, as the defendants, Mrs. Poole and Mrs. +Bothwell, had been advised by McCracken, their +lawyer, to demand a jury trial.</p> +<p>The plaintiffs would have to get in their witnesses +the next day. If Bertha Blair was ever +to aid the side of right and truth in this matter, +she must be found and brought to court.</p> +<p>“And we don’t know how to find her. If she is +hidden away over there at that Gandy farm, how +shall we ever find it out for sure?” wailed Jessie. +“I hoped Daddy would get my letter and come +and take charge of the search himself.”</p> +<p>“Your idea of taking Henrietta over there and +letting her call Bertha is a good one,” declared +Amy stubbornly. “Aren’t you going to do it?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></p> +<p>“Yes. We’ll drive over early. But it is only +a chance.”</p> +<p>They could not interest Henrietta in her Cousin +Bertha that evening, save that she said she hoped +Bertha would come and see her before she had +to take off the silk dress and the other articles of +her gay apparel.</p> +<p>She scarcely had appetite for dinner, although +Momsy and Jessie tried their very best to interest +Henrietta in several dishes that were supposed +to appeal to a child’s palate. Henrietta was +polite and thanked them, but was not enthusiastic.</p> +<p>She found a tall mirror in the drawing room +and every time they missed her, Jessie tip-toed +into that long apartment to see Henrietta +posing before the glass. The child certainly did +enjoy her finery.</p> +<p>The suggestion of bedtime only annoyed Henrietta. +But finally Jessie took her upstairs and +showed her the twin beds in her own room, one +of which the visitor was to occupy, and so gradually +Henrietta came to the idea that some time +she would have to remove the new clothes.</p> +<p>They listened in on the radio that evening until +late, using the amplifier and horn that Mr. Norwood +had bought. Henrietta could not understand +how the voices could come into the room +over the outside wires.</p> +<p>“I’ll tell Charlie Foley and Montmorency +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +Shannon about this,” she confided to Jessie and +Amy. “I guess you don’t know them. But they +are smart. They can rig one of these wireless +things with wires, I bet. And then the whole of +Dogtown will listen in.”</p> +<p>“Or, say! Maybe they won’t let poor folks +like those in Dogtown have radios? Will they?”</p> +<p>“This is for the rich and poor alike,” Jessie +assured her.</p> +<p>“Provided,” added Amy, “that the poor are +not too poor.”</p> +<p>They finally got Henrietta to bed. She went to +sleep with the silk dress hanging over a chair +within reach. After Amy had gone home Jessie +retired with much more worriment upon her +mind than little Henrietta had upon hers.</p> +<p>Everybody was astir early about the Norwood +and Drew places in Roselawn that next morning. +At the former house Jessie and Henrietta aroused +everybody. At the Drew place “two old salts,” as +Amy sleepily called them from her bedroom window, +came rambling in from a taxi-cab and disturbed +the repose of the family.</p> +<p>“Where did you leave that <i>Marigold</i>?” the +sister demanded from her window. “You boys +go off on that yacht, supposedly to stay a year, +and get back in forty-eight hours. You turn up +like a couple of bad pennies. You––”</p> +<p>“Chop it, Sis,” Darry advised. “See if you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +can get a bite fixed for a couple of started castaways. +The engine went dead on us and we sailed +into Barnegat last night and all hands came home +by train. Mark has the laugh on us.”</p> +<p>Fortunately the cook was already downstairs +and Amy put on a negligee and ran down to sit +with the boys in the breakfast room and listen +to the tale of their adventures.</p> +<p>“Oh! But,” she said, after a while, “there’s +been something doing in this neighborhood, too. +At least, our neighbors have been doing something. +Do you know, Darry, Jess is bound to find +that lost girl we were telling you about? Mr. +Norwood goes into court to-day on that Ellison +case, and he admits himself that he has very little +chance of winning without the testimony of Bertha +Blair.”</p> +<p>“Fine name,” drawled Darry. “Sounds like a +movie actress.”</p> +<p>“Let me tell you,” Amy said eagerly.</p> +<p>She related how she and Jessie had tried to find +Bertha after hearing what they believed to be the +lost girl’s voice out of the air. Darry and Burd +listened with increasing wonder.</p> +<p>“What won’t you kids do next?” gasped Darry.</p> +<p>“I wish you wouldn’t call us kids. You are as +bad as Belle Ringold,” complained his sister.</p> +<p>“Is she hanging around here yet?” demanded +Darry. “I don’t want to see that girl. I know +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +I’m going to say something unpleasant to her +yet.”</p> +<p>“She is right after you, just the same,” Amy +said, suddenly giggling. She told about the coming +moonlight box-party down the lake.</p> +<p>“We’ll go right back to the <i>Marigold</i>, Burd,” +said Darry promptly. “Home is no place for us. +But tell us what else you did, Sis.”</p> +<p>When Amy had finished her tale her brother +was quite serious. Particularly was he anxious to +help Jessie, for he thought a good deal of his +sister’s chum.</p> +<p>“Tell you what,” he said, looking at Burd, +“we’ll hang around long enough to ride over to +the stock farm with the girls, sha’n’t we?”</p> +<p>“What do you think you can do more than they +have done?” asked Burd, with some scorn.</p> +<p>“I have an idea,” said Darry Drew slowly. “I +think it is a good one. It even beats using that +little Hen Haney for a bait. Listen here.”</p> +<p>And he proceeded to tell them.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>A Radio Trick</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV_A_RADIO_TRICK' id='CHAPTER_XXIV_A_RADIO_TRICK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>A RADIO TRICK</h3> +</div> +<p>Jessie was of course delighted to see Darry +and Burd in Amy’s company when her chum +appeared on the Norwood premises after +breakfast. Jessie had dressed Henrietta, and the +child was preening herself in the sun like a peacock. +The boys scarcely recognized her.</p> +<p>At once Burd Alling called her the Enchanted +Princess. That disturbed little Henrietta but +slightly.</p> +<p>“I expect I am a ‘chanted princess,’” she admitted +gravely. “I expect I am like Cinderella. +I know all about her. And the pumpkin and rats +and mice was charmed, too. I hope I won’t get +charmed back again into my old clothes.”</p> +<p>“You could not very well help Mrs. Foley in +that dress, Henrietta,” Jessie suggested.</p> +<p>“No. I suppose not. But if I could just find +my cousin Bertha maybe I would not have to help +Mrs. Foley any more. Maybe Bertha is rich, +and we could hire somebody to take care of Billy +Foley and to clean out the kitchen stove.”</p> +<p>She was more than eager to ride along with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +others to look for Bertha Blair. As it chanced, +Jessie did not have to call for Chapman and the +Norwood car when the time to go came. For +who should drive up to the house but Mark +Stratford, who had come home with Darry and +Burd from the yacht cruise and had driven over +from Stratfordtown in his powerful car?</p> +<p>It was a tight fit for the six in the racing car, +but they squeezed in and drove out through the +Parkville road while it was still early morning. +Meanwhile Darry had explained his idea to the +others, and they were all eager to view the surroundings +of the Gandy stock farm.</p> +<p>“If Bertha is there she’ll know me if I holler; +of course, she will,” agreed little Henrietta. +“But she never will know me by looking at me. +Never!”</p> +<p>“So she’ll have to shut her eyes if she wants to +know you, will she, kid?” chuckled Burd.</p> +<p>There really did not seem to be any need for +the child to call when the party stopped before +the closed gate, for there was not any sign of occupancy +of either the house or surrounding buildings. +The shingled old house offered blank windows to +the road, like so many sightless eyes. There were +no horses in the stables, for the windows over the +box-stalls were all closed. And the tower the +girls had marked before seemed deserted as well.</p> +<p>“Just the same, the voice spoke of the red barn +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +and that silo and those two fallen trees there. +Chapman says the trees must have fallen lately. +And yet there isn’t an aerial in sight, as we told +you,” said Jessie.</p> +<p>“Let’s look around,” Darry said, jumping out, +and Burd and Amy went with him. Mark turned +around in the driver’s seat to talk with Jessie.</p> +<p>“You know, it’s a funny thing that the girl’s +name should be Bertha Blair,” the young man +said. “I heard you folks talking about her before, +and I said something about it to our Mr. +Blair at the factory. He’s had a lot of trouble +in his family. Never had any children, he and his +wife, but always wanted ’em.”</p> +<p>“His younger brother married a girl of whom +the Blair family did not approve. Guess she was +all right, but came from poor kind of folks. And +when the younger Blair died they lost trace of his +wife and a baby girl they had. Funny thing,” +added Mark. “That baby’s name was Bertha—Bertha +Blair. When I told the superintendent +something about your looking for such a girl because +of a law case, he was much interested. If +you go over there again to the sending station, +tell the superintendent all about her, Miss Jessie.”</p> +<p>“I certainly will,” promised the Roselawn girl. +“But we haven’t even found Bertha yet, and we +are not sure she is here.”</p> +<p>Darry and the others had entered the grounds +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +surrounding the stock farm buildings and they +were gone some time. When they came back even +Amy seemed despondent.</p> +<p>“I guess we were fooled, Jess,” she said. +“There is nobody here—not even a caretaker. I +guess what we heard over the radio that time was +a hoax.”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe it!” declared Jessie. “I just +<i>feel</i> that Bertha Blair, little Henrietta’s cousin, +is somewhere here.”</p> +<p>“And maybe she can’t get away,” said Henrietta. +“I’d like to help Bertha run away from +that fat woman.”</p> +<p>“Let’s take the kid in and let her call,” suggested +Burd.</p> +<p>“Sure you didn’t see any aerial, Darry?” +Mark asked, showing increased interest in the +matter.</p> +<p>“Not a sign,” said Drew, shaking his head.</p> +<p>“That tower––”</p> +<p>“Yes. It would make an ideal station. But I +went all around it. I can’t see the roof, for it is +practically flat. And if what I suggested was +there, we will have to get above the level of the +roof to see it.”</p> +<p>Mark suddenly got out and opened his toolbox. +He brought forth a pair of lineman’s +climbers.</p> +<p>“Thought I had ’em here. I’ll go up that telegraph +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +pole and see what I can see,” and he began +to strap them on.</p> +<p>“Good as gold!” cried Burd admiringly. “You +have a head on you, young fellow.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Mark dryly. “I was born with it.”</p> +<p>He proceeded to the tall telegraph pole and +swarmed quickly up it. The others waited, watching +him as he surveyed the apparently deserted +place from the cross-piece of the pole. By and +by he came down.</p> +<p>“It’s there, Darry,” he said confidently. “Your +big idea was all to the good. That folding wireless +staff you use on the <i>Marigold</i> is repeated right +on the top of that tower. When they use the +sending set they raise the staff with the antenna +and—there you have it.”</p> +<p>“Oh! Then she’s in the tower!” cried Amy.</p> +<p>“At least, she was in the tower if she sent her +message from this station,” agreed Darry.</p> +<p>“How shall we find out—how shall we?” cried +Amy, excitedly.</p> +<p>“If Mr. Stratford is quite sure that he sees the +aerials upon that roof, then I am going to get +the tower door open somehow,” declared Jessie, +with her usual determination.</p> +<p>“It is there, Miss Jessie,” Mark assured her.</p> +<p>“Come on, Henrietta,” said Jessie, helping the +little girl to jump down from the car. “We are +going to find your Cousin Bertha if she is here.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></p> +<p>“You are real nice to be so int’rusted in +Bertha,” said Henrietta.</p> +<p>“I am interested in her particularly because +Daddy Norwood needs her,” admitted the older +girl. “Come on now, honey. We’ll go up to that +tower building and you shout for Bertha just as +hard as you can shout. She will know your voice +if she doesn’t know you in your new dress,” and +she smiled down at the little girl clinging to her +hand.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<p class='chgrp'>Just in Time</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXV_JUST_IN_TIME' id='CHAPTER_XXV_JUST_IN_TIME'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<h3>JUST IN TIME</h3> +</div> +<p>It seemed as though if there really was anybody +left in charge of the Gandy house and +premises, such a caretaker would have appeared +before this to demand of the party of +young folks from Roselawn what they wanted. +As Jessie Norwood walked up the lane, with little +Henrietta by the hand and followed by Darrington +Drew, she saw no person at any window or +door.</p> +<p>The tower might have been abandoned years +before, as far as appearance went. But Mark +Stratford’s discovery seemed to make it plain that +the tower was sometimes in use.</p> +<p>Jessie noted that the tower stood on a knoll +behind the house from which vantage the race +track some quarter of a mile away might be seen. +With good field glasses one might stand in the +second story of the tower and see the horses +running on the track. Then, if there was a sending +radio set in the tower, the reports of races +could be broadcasted in secret code to sets tuned +to the one in the tower. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></p> +<p>Of course, if the radio instrument was so illegally +used, it was only so used while the races +were being held at the Harrimay Track. Then the +folding aerials were raised and made use of. The +cry for help that had been broadcasted and which +Jessie and Amy had heard might have been sent +out from this station some night when Martha +Poole or her friends had neglected to shut off the +aerial by dropping it flat upon the roof of the +tower.</p> +<p>The question now was, had Bertha stolen her +way into the tower at that time, or was she held +prisoner there? Evidently Martha Poole and +Sadie Bothwell were determined to hold the girl +until after the court had settled in their favor +the Ellison will case.</p> +<p>Jessie and those with her came to the foot of +the tower. All the lower windows were boarded +up and the door was tightly closed. There were +shades at the upper windows, and they fitted +tightly.</p> +<p>“You call Bertha, honey,” said Jessie. “Tell +her we’ve come to let her out. Did you try that +door, Darry?”</p> +<p>“Not much! We don’t want to be arrested for +trying to commit burglary.”</p> +<p>“Shout for Bertha, Henrietta,” commanded +Jessie.</p> +<p>Immediately the little girl set up a yell that, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +as Burd declared, could have scarcely been +equaled by a steam calliope.</p> +<p>“Bertha! Bertha Haney! Come out and see +my new dress!”</p> +<p>That invitation certainly delighted Amy and +Burd. They sat in the car and clung to each other +while they laughed. Little Henrietta’s face got +rosy red while she shouted, and she was very +much in earnest.</p> +<p>“Bertha! Bertha Haney! Don’t you hear me? +I got a new dress! And we’ve come to take you +home. Bertha!”</p> +<p>Suddenly the lower door of the tower opened +a crack. An old, old woman, and not at all a +pleasant looking woman, appeared at the crack.</p> +<p>“What you want?” she demanded. “Go ’way! +Martha Poole didn’t send you here.”</p> +<p>Jessie spoke up briskly. “We’ve come to see +Bertha. This is her little cousin. You won’t refuse +to let her see Bertha, will you?”</p> +<p>“There ain’t nobody here but a sick girl. She +ain’t to be let out. She ain’t right in her head.”</p> +<p>“I guess that is what is the matter with you,” +said Darry Drew, sternly. He had come nearer, +and now, before the woman could shut the door, +he thrust his foot between it and the jamb. +“We’re going to see Bertha Blair. Out of the +way!”</p> +<p>He thrust back the door and the old woman +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +with it. They heard a muffled voice calling from +upstairs. Little Henrietta flashed by the guardian +of the tower and darted upstairs.</p> +<p>“Bertha! Bertha! I’m coming, Bertha! I got +a new dress!”</p> +<p>“You better go up and see what’s doing, Jess,” +said Darry. “I’ll hold this woman down here.”</p> +<p>Jessie was giggling, although it was from +nervousness.</p> +<p>“And I thought you did not want to be considered +a burglar?” she said as she passed hastily +in at the door.</p> +<p>“Oh, well, we’re in for it now,” Darry called +after her. “Be as quick as you can.”</p> +<p>Jessie found a door open at the top of the +flight. Henrietta was chattering at top speed +somewhere ahead. The rooms were dark, but +when Jessie found the room in which Henrietta +was, she likewise found a girl bound to a chair in +which she sat, with a towel tied across her mouth +which muffled her speech.</p> +<p>“Here’s Bertha! Here’s Bertha!” cried Henrietta +eagerly.</p> +<p>Jessie had the girl free and the towel off in +half a minute. She saw then that the prisoner +was the girl she and Amy had seen carried away +by Martha Poole and Sadie Bothwell, out of Dogtown +Lane. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></p> +<p>“Oh, Miss! is this little Hennie? And have +you come to take me away?” gasped Bertha.</p> +<p>“Surely. Are you Bertha Blair?”</p> +<p>“Yes, ma’am. Hennie calls me Bertha Haney. +For I lived with her mom after my mother died. +But my name’s Blair.”</p> +<p>“My father is Robert Norwood, the lawyer,” +said Jessie swiftly. “He wants you to testify in +court about what you heard when that old man +made his will at Mrs. Poole’s house.”</p> +<p>“Oh! You mean Mr. Abel Ellison? A gentleman +came and asked me about that once, and +then Mrs. Poole said I’d got to keep my mouth +shut about it or she’d put me away somewhere so +that I’d never get away.”</p> +<p>“So I ran away from her,” said Bertha, “and +tried to go to Dogtown and see Hennie and the +Foleys. Why! wasn’t you one of the girls, Miss, +that saw Mrs. Poole putting me into that car?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” sighed Jessie. “I saw it, but couldn’t +stop it.”</p> +<p>“Well, they brought me right out here, and +I’ve been here ever since. When Mrs. Poole isn’t +here that old woman comes and keeps me from +running away.”</p> +<p>“But once,” Jessie suggested, “you had a chance +to try to send out a cry for help?”</p> +<p>“There’s a radio here. They used it one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +night. Then I tried to call for help over it. But +they heard me and stopped it at once.”</p> +<p>“Just the same, that attempt of yours is what +has brought us here to-day. I will tell you all +about it later. Come, Bertha! We will get you +away from here before Mrs. Poole comes. And +we must take you to the city to see my father at +once.”</p> +<p>As they left the tower and the ugly old woman, +they heard the latter calling a number into the +telephone receiver. She was probably trying to +report the outrage to Mrs. Poole.</p> +<p>“But the woman will never dare call the police,” +Darry assured Jessie. “You tell your father all +about it, and he’ll know what to do.”</p> +<p>“And we must see Daddy Norwood as soon as +possible,” the girl said. “I must take Bertha to +him. The case is already in court.”</p> +<p>“I’ll fix that for you, Miss Jessie,” Mark +Stratford said. “I can get you to town just as +quickly as the traffic cops will let me—and they +are all my friends.”</p> +<p>Darry considered that he should go, too. So +they dropped Amy and little Henrietta, with Burd +Alling, at Roselawn, and after a word to Momsy, +started like the flight of an arrow in Mark’s +powerful car for New York.</p> +<p>Jessie and Bertha Blair had never ridden so +fast before. Mark Stratford knew his car well, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +and coaxed it along over the well-oiled roads of +Westchester at a speed to make anybody gasp.</p> +<p>But haste was necessary. They knew where +the court was, and they arrived there just after +the noon recess. Mrs. Norwood had reached her +husband’s chief clerk by telephone, and he had +communicated the news to the lawyer. Mr. Norwood +had dragged along the prosecution until the +missing witness arrived. Then he introduced +Bertha Blair into the witness chair most unexpectedly +to McCracken and his clients.</p> +<p>If Mr. Norwood’s side of the argument needed +any bolstering, this was supplied when Bertha was +allowed to tell her story. The judge even advised +the girl, or her guardians if she had any, that she +had a perfectly good civil case against Martha +Poole for imprisoning her in the tower on the +Gandy farm.</p> +<p>These matters, however, did not interest Jessie +Norwood and her friends much. They had been +able to assist Mr. Norwood in an important legal +case, and naturally everybody, both old and +young, was interested in Bertha Blair, the +girl who had been imprisoned. Momsy said she +would put on her thinking cap about Bertha’s +future.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Bertha and little Henrietta went +back to the Foleys for a while. Henrietta was +bound to be the most important person of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +age in all of Dogtown. No other little girl there +was the possessor of such finery as she had.</p> +<p>What Mark Stratford had said to Jessie about +Superintendent Blair kept recurring to the Roselawn +girl, and she felt that she should tell the man +who had charge of the Stratford Electric Corporation +radio program about the girl who had been +rescued from the horsewoman. As we meet Jessie +and Amy and Bertha and all their friends in another +volume, called “The Radio Girls on the +Program; Or, Singing and Reciting at the Sending +Station,” in all probability Jessie Norwood will do +just that.</p> +<p>“You girls,” Darry Drew said to Jessie and +Amy, “have got more radio stuff in your heads +than most fellows I know. Why, you are as good +as boys at it.”</p> +<p>“I like that!” exclaimed his sister. “Is there +anything, I’d like to know, that girls can’t beat +boys at?”</p> +<p>“One thing,” put in Burd Alling solemnly.</p> +<p>“What’s that?”</p> +<p>“Killing snakes,” said Burd.</p> +<p>“Wrong! Wrong!” cried Jessie, laughing. +“You ought to see little Henrietta attack a flock +of snakes. She takes the palm.”</p> +<p>“Think of it, a little girl like that going after +snakes!” murmured Burd. “She must have +nerve!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></p> +<p>“She has,” declared Jessie. “And she is as +clever as can be, too, in spite of her odd way of +expressing herself.”</p> +<p>“I wonder what they’ll do about Bertha Blair,” +came from Darry.</p> +<p>“She certainly had an adventure,” observed +Burd. “Maybe the movie people will want her—or +the vaudeville managers. They often pick +up people like that, who have been in the limelight.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think Momsy will allow anything of +that sort,” returned Jessie. “I’m sure she and +Daddy will think up something better.”</p> +<p>Suddenly Amy, who was resting comfortably +in the porch hammock, leaped to her feet.</p> +<p>“I declare! I forgot!” she cried.</p> +<p>“Forgot what?” came in a chorus from the +others.</p> +<p>“Forgot that special concert to-day—that one +to be given over the radio by that noted French +soprano. You know who I mean—the one with +the unpronounceable name.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes!” ejaculated Jessie. “Let me see—what +time was it?” She consulted her wrist +watch. “I declare! it starts in five minutes.”</p> +<p>“Then come on and tune in. I’ve been thinking +of that concert ever since it was advertised. +Miss Gress, the music teacher, heard her sing in +Paris and she says she’s wonderful. Come on. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +Will you boys come along?”</p> +<p>“Might as well,” answered Darry. “We +haven’t anything else to do.”</p> +<p>“And I like a good singer,” added Burd.</p> +<p>In another moment all were trooping up to +Jessie’s pretty room where she had her receiving +set. The necessary tuning in was soon accomplished +and in a minute more all were listening +to a song from one of the favorite operas, rendered +as only a great singer can render it. And +here, for the time being we will say good-bye to +the Radio Girls of Roselawn.</p> +<p style='text-align:center; font-size:smaller; margin: 1.5em auto;'>THE END</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad1.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad2.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad3.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad4.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 0.21a --> +<!-- timestamp: Sun Mar 29 12:29:14 -0600 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Campfire Girls of Roselawn, by Margaret Penrose + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMPFIRE GIRLS OF ROSELAWN *** + +***** This file should be named 28448-h.htm or 28448-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/4/28448/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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