STILL THEY CAME
Before the girls could pull their faces straight a young man dashed up
the steps and was in the store.
"Well, this is great!" he declared heartily. "I see by your window card
you carry Mackinaw's goods and I haven't been able to get them nearer
than the city." He was addressing all three who stood together back of
the counter like a trio in a comedy. The young man looked critically at
the show goods in the show counter--the supply left by the travelling
salesman.
"Here they are, sure enough!" he exclaimed. "Just give me a half dozen
of those plugs, and of those dry flies, and a dozen of those bobbers--"
Nancy set out the boxes and the customer helped himself. He knew exactly
what he wanted, and the girls marvelled at his quick selection of the
fancy colored artificial minnows, the little feather flies, used to
decoy the poor fish, and the bobbers, of which article Nancy had as
pretty a selection as might have been in a really large shop.
"You don't know what an accommodation this is," went on the young man,
putting down a twenty dollar bill to pay for his purchases. "No, don't
bother to put paper on the boxes," he objected, as all three attempted
to wrap the goods. "I'll put them right in the car. You see, I'm at the
fishing club over on the lake, and when we want supplies there we _want_
them instantly," he concluded.
And he was gone before the surprised clerks had time to realize that the
sale had almost cleared out all the fancy tackle, and there were coming
in at the door two elderly gentlemen, who looked exactly as if they
would want fancy flies.
One of the gentlemen poked his head in the door so comically, the girls
all giggled.
"Well!" he exclaimed. "So it _is_ a shop. Thought it might be a Sunday
School fair and I'd get roped in," he chuckled, stepping inside
cautiously. "Sorry, but I didn't come to buy. Can you direct me to
Professor Sanders' office?" he asked, while politely removing his hat.
"His office? Why, he hasn't any office that I know of," faltered Nancy,
surprised at the question.
"He has messages sent to the ticket office at the station," volunteered
Ruth.
"Oh, I see," replied the man, seeming to "see" more than the girls did.
"Then, we'll go over to the station--"
So saying the man backed out of the door smiling pleasantly as he
departed.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Nancy. "Our Disappearing Dick is going to
have callers. I wonder if he'll perform for them?"
"Those are important looking men," Isabel commented. "Did you see their
car?"
"Wasn't it fancy?" agreed Ruth. "Perhaps Sibyl will get a ride home."
"I don't think you folks can be very good detectives around here," Nancy
criticized, "or you would have found out what so many people mean by
saying that Mr. Sanders disappears."
"Now, listen," quoth Ruth, in a most confidential tone, "I don't call
myself sensational, and in fact, people at Long Leigh generally have the
name of minding their own business; but there is something mighty queer
about Mr. Sanders." She paused while Nancy waited for further
explanation. "He does _not_ live in the old gray house, for father's men
went through the entire place the other day, he's in real-estate you
know," she explained, "and there wasn't a thing to show that the old
house had been opened since they inspected it last."
"Couldn't he camp in the barn or somewhere outside the house?" queried
Nancy.
"No; the barn was locked up tight as tuppence," insisted Ruth. "But he
seems to hang out somewhere on that hill, just the same," she added.
"I know!" exclaimed Nancy. "He goes up in a tree with the wires and
springs," and she sprang up and down without either. "Some day I'm going
up there and I bet _I'll_ solve the mystery," she promised gaily.
"Let us know when you're going, Nan," suggested Ruth. "We wouldn't want
to have you swallowed up by--the fairies."
"Say," whispered Isabel, her eyes set in what looked like alarm, "do you
know, I saw a little woman come up and down our side steps a half dozen
times this morning--"
"Oh!" and Nancy laughed merrily. "That would be little Miss Manners, the
dressmaker who lives in the tiny bungalow under our window. You see,
Mother wouldn't really let us keep store without some supervision. She's
pretty particular, and declares there is no telling who might pop in--"
"And hold us up for our cash box--!" Ruth added so mirthfully as to
suggest a good time in the danger.
"Well, any how," continued Nancy, "Mother insists that Miss Manners look
in quite often to see that everything is all right. She's as quiet as a
mouse--"
"I should say she is," Isabel confirmed. "In fact, I didn't want to
frighten you or I should have told you someone was sneaking in," she
added, folding up a tape line as she spoke.
"Oh, Miss Manners is so quaint, as Vera would say," Ruth contributed,
"that I think she ought to be a partner, if a silent partner, in the
Whatnot Shop."
"Yes," agreed Nancy, "it does seem as if this shop should belong to
little old people like Miss Townsend, and I guess that's why Miss
Manners is so interested. You see, girls, I'm still a very poor
housekeeper, and our maid, Anna, won't be back until fall. After I get
tired playing store, I suppose," and she sighed heavily, "I'll be
expected to start in playing house."
"But if you run the shop as you have done this morning," Isabel
interposed, "don't you suppose your mother will think you're a real
genius at business?" she inquired.
"You can't fool my mother on geniuses," replied Nancy, who like her
companions was putting away the odds and ends of things that had been
scattered in the morning's adventure. "Mother is an expert, and she sort
of knows--me." This last was said in a way implying a very doubtful
compliment for Nancy. "I've been almost a genius at art, for instance.
When I was five years old I could draw a goose with my eyes shut."
"How about it when your eyes were open?" asked Ruth, quizzically.
"It was usually a little fat pig, then," Nancy admitted, amid an
outburst of girlish laughter.
"Nancy," interrupted Isabel, "here's the ice cream man."
"Ours," declared Nancy. "Now we'll whistle for Ted and his boys and shut
up shop for lunch. Isabel, will you please open the side door? We'll
take a tray over to Miss Manners and then sit down and enjoy ourselves."
"Here's Ted and his friends now," announced Ruth. "They seem to know it
is ice cream time."
"That will save trouble," Nancy remarked. And presently the big sale was
all but forgotten in preparations for the feast of ice cream, with other
suitable summer lunch supplies.
Isabel took an attractive tray over to solicitous and attentive Miss Ada
Manners, while Nancy and Ruth attempted to satisfy the demands of Ted
and his ice cream loving friends. The noon day was much warmer than the
morning had indicated, and this coupled with the sale excitement, went
far to make the little party a tremendous success, just as Mrs. Brandon
had planned it to be.