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DOROTHY DALE IN
THE CITY
BY
MARGARET PENROSE
AUTHOR OF "DOROTHY DALE: A GIRL OF TO-DAY," "DOROTHY DALE AND
HER CHUMS," "DOROTHY DALE'S CAMPING DAYS," "THE MOTOR GIRLS,"
"THE MOTOR GIRLS THROUGH NEW ENGLAND," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
BOOKS BY MARGARET PENROSE
THE DOROTHY DALE SERIES
12mo. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 60 Cents, postpaid
DOROTHY DALE: A GIRL OF TO-DAY
DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD SCHOOL
DOROTHY DALE'S GREAT SECRET
DOROTHY DALE AND HER CHUMS
DOROTHY DALE'S QUEER HOLIDAYS
DOROTHY DALE'S CAMPING DAYS
DOROTHY DALE'S SCHOOL RIVALS
DOROTHY DALE IN THE CITY
THE MOTOR GIRLS SERIES
12mo. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 60 Cents, postpaid
THE MOTOR GIRLS
THE MOTOR GIRLS ON A TOUR
THE MOTOR GIRLS AT LOOKOUT BEACH
THE MOTOR GIRLS THROUGH NEW ENGLAND
THE MOTOR GIRLS ON CEDAR LAKE
THE MOTOR GIRLS ON THE COAST
_Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York_
Copyright, 1913, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
DOROTHY DALE IN THE CITY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Almost Christmas 1
II. Going Home 10
III. "Get a Horse!" 24
IV. A Real Beauty Bath 35
V. Dorothy's Protege 41
VI. The Night Before Christmas 52
VII. Real Ghosts 61
VIII. The Aftermath 68
IX. Just Dales 76
X. Sixty Miles an Hour 85
XI. A Hold-On in New York 100
XII. Human Freight on the Dummy 108
XIII. The Shopping Tour 118
XIV. The Dress Parade 132
XV. Tea in a Stable 138
XVI. A Startling Discovery 149
XVII. Tavia's Resolve 162
XVIII. Dangerous Ground 170
XIX. Thick Ice and Thin 179
XX. A Thickened Plot 187
XXI. Fright and Courage 192
XXII. Captured By Two Girls 204
XXIII. Pathos and Poverty 213
XXIV. A Young Reformer 222
XXV. The Loving Cup 233
XXVI. A New Collector 242
DOROTHY DALE IN THE CITY
CHAPTER I
ALMOST CHRISTMAS
Neither books, papers nor pencils were to be seen in the confused mass of
articles, piled high, if not dry, in the rooms of the pupils of Glenwood
Hall, who were now packing up to leave the boarding school for the
Christmas holidays.
"Going home is so very different from leaving home," remarked Dorothy
Dale, as she plunged a knot of unfolded ribbons into the tray of her
trunk. "I'm always ashamed to face my things when I unpack."
"Don't," advised Tavia. "I never look at mine until they have been
scattered on the floor for a few days. Then they all look like a fire
sale," and she wound her tennis shoes inside a perfectly helpless
lingerie waist.
"I don't see why we bring parasols in September to take them back in
Christmas snows," went on Dorothy. "I have a mind to give this to Betty,"
and she raised the flowery canopy over her head.
"Oh, don't!" begged Tavia. "Listen! That's bad luck!"
"Which?" asked Dorothy, "the parasol or Betty?"
"Neither," replied Tavia. "But the fact that I hear Ned's voice. Also the
clatter of Cologne's heavy feet. That means the plunge--our very last
racket."
"I hope you take the racket out of this room," said Dorothy, "for I have
some Christmas cards to get off."
"Let us in!" called a voice on the outer side of the door. "We've got
good news."
"Only news?" asked Tavia. "We have lots of that ourselves. Make it
something more substantial."
"Hurry!" begged the voice of Edna Black, otherwise known as Ned Ebony.
"We'll be caught!"
Tavia brought herself to her feet from the Turkish mat as if she were on
springs. Then she opened the door cautiously.
"What is it?" she demanded. "Is it alive?"
"It was once," replied Edna, "but it isn't now."
The giggling at the door was punctuated with a struggle.
"Oh, let us in!" insisted Cologne, and pushed past Tavia.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Dorothy. "Whatever is this?"
The two newcomers were now in a heap on the floor, or rather were in a
heap on a feather bed they had dragged into the room with them. Quick to
scent fun, Tavia turned the key in the door.
"The old darling!" she murmured. "Where did the naughty girls get you?"
and she attempted to caress the feather tick in which Edna and Cologne
nestled.
"That's Miss Mingle's feather bed!" declared Dorothy. "Wherever did you
get it?"
"Mingling with other things getting packed!" replied Edna, "and I haven't
seen a little bundle of the really fluffy-duffy kind since they sent me
to grandma's when I had the measles. Isn't it lovely?"
"No wonder she sleeps well," remarked Tavia, trying to push Cologne off
the heap. "I could take an eternal rest on this."
"But why was it out in the hall?" questioned Dorothy. "I know Miss Mingle
has a weak hip and has to sleep on a soft bed, always."
"Her room was being made over, and she wanted to see it all alone before
she left. She is going to-morrow," said Edna.
"And to-night?" asked Dorothy.
"She must have a change," declared Edna, innocently, "and we thought an
ordinary mattress would be--more sanitary."
"You cannot hide her bed in here," objected Dorothy. "You must take it
back."
"Take back the bed that thou gavest!" sang Tavia, gaily. "How could I
part with thee so soon!"
"We did not intend to hide it here, Doro," said Cologne. "We had no idea
of incriminating you. There is a closet in the hall. But just now there
are also tittle-tattles in the hall. We are only biding a-wee."
"Oh, it's leaking!" exclaimed Edna, as she blew a bunch of feathery down
at Dorothy. "What shall we do?"
"Get it back as soon as you can," advised Dorothy. "Let me peek out!"
Silence fell as Dorothy cautiously put her head out of the door. "No one
in sight," she whispered. "Now is your time."
Quietly the girls gathered themselves up. Tavia took the end of the bed
where the "leak" was. Out in the hall they paused.
"The old feather be--ed!
The de--ar feather be--ed!
The rust-covered be--ed that hung in the hall!"
It was Tavia who sang. Then with one jerk she pushed the bed over the
banister!
"Oh!" gasped Edna and Cologne, simultaneously.
"Mercy!" came a cry from below. "Whatever is----"
They heard no more. Inside the room again the girls scampered.
"Right on the very head of Miss Mingle!" whispered Edna, horror-stricken.
"Now we are in for it!"
"But she needed it," said Tavia, in her absurd way of turning a joke into
kindness. "I was afraid she wouldn't find it."
"Better be afraid she does not find you," said Dorothy. "Miss Mingle is a
dear, but she won't like leaky feather beds dropped on her."
"Well, I suppose we will all have to stand for it," sighed Edna, "though
land knows we never intended to decapitate the little music teacher. And
she has a weak spine! Tavia Travers, how could you?"
"You saw how simple it was," replied Tavia, purposely misunderstanding
the other. "But do you suppose we have killed her? I don't hear a sound!"
"Sounds are always smothered in feathers," said Cologne. "Dorothy, can't
you get the story ready? How did the accident happen?"
"Too busy," answered Dorothy. "Besides, I warned you."
"Now, Doro! And this the last day!"
"Oh, please!" chimed in the others.
"I absolutely refuse to fix it up," declared Dorothy. "I begged you to
relent, and now----"
"Hush! It came to! I hear it coming further to!" exclaimed Cologne.
"Doro, hide me!"
A rush in the outer hall described the approach of more than one girl. In
fact there must have been at least five in the dash that banged the door
of Number Nineteen.
"Come on!"
"Hide!"
"Face it!"
"Feathers!"
"Mingle!"
Some of the words were evidently intended to mean more. Snow was
scattered about from out of door things, rubbers were thrust off hastily,
and the girls, delighted with the prospect of a real row, were radiant
with a mental steam that threatened every human safety valve.
"Girls, do be quiet!" begged Dorothy, "and tell us what happened to that
feather bed."
"Nothing," replied Nita, "it happened to Mingle. She is just now busy
trying to get the quills out of her throat with a bottle brush. Betty
suggested the brush."
"And the hall looks like a feather foundry," imparted Genevieve. "Mrs.
Pangborn is looking for someone's scalp."
"There! I hear the court martial summons!" exclaimed Edna. "Tavia! You
did it."
The footfall in the hall this time was decided and not clattery. It
betokened the coming of a teacher.
A tap at the door came next. Dorothy scrambled over the excited girls,
and finally reached the portal.
"The principal would like to have the young ladies from this room report
in the office at once," said the strident voice of Miss Higley, the
English teacher. "She is very much annoyed at the misconduct that
appeared to come from Room Nineteen."
"Yes," faltered Dorothy, for no one else seemed to know how to find her
tongue. "There was--an accident. The girls will go to the office."
After the teacher left the girls gave full vent to their choking
sensations. Tavia rolled off the couch, Edna covered her own head in
Dorothy's best sofa cushion, Cologne drank a glass of water that Tavia
intended to drink, and altogether things were brisk in Number Nineteen.
"We might as well have it over with," Edna said, patting the sofa cushion
into shape. "I'll confess to the finding of the plaguey thing."
"Come on then," ordered Dorothy, and the others meekly followed her into
the hall.
They were but one flight up, and as they looked over the banister they
saw below Miss Mingle, Mrs. Pangborn and several others.
"Oh!" gasped Tavia, "they are sprouting pin feathers!"
"Young ladies!" cried Mrs. Pangborn. "What does this mean?"
They trooped down. But before they reached the actual scene of the
befeathered hall, a messenger was standing beside Miss Mingle, and the
music teacher was reading a telegram.
"I must leave at once!" she said. "Please, Mrs. Pangborn, excuse the
young ladies! Come with me to the office! I must arrange everything at
once! I have to get the evening train!"
"You must go at once?" queried the head of the school, in some surprise.
"Yes! yes! instantly! Oh, this is awful!" groaned the music teacher.
"Come, please do!" And she hurried off, and Mrs. Pangborn went after her.
"Just luck!" whispered Tavia, as she scampered after the others, who
quickly hurried to more comfortable quarters. "But what do you suppose
ails Mingle?"
"Maybe someone proposed to her," suggested Edna, "and she was afraid he
might relent."
But little did Dorothy and her chums think how important the message to
the teacher would prove to be to themselves, before the close of the
Christmas holidays.