It had never occurred to Ka-kee-ta's frizzled head that Tessie could
leave the royal suite without his knowledge, not while he stood beside
the door. He did not understand that the suite was a corner one with
exits on two corridors, and no one had thought it necessary to tell him.
So when he saw Tessie come in with Mr. Bill, when he thought that she
was with Granny in the room, he gave a howl of surprise and stared at
her as if she were a ghost instead of a flesh-and-blood girl in a white
dinner frock and a rose wrap. Tessie frowned.
"Do be quiet, Ka-kee-ta!" she ordered impatiently. "He always makes me
think of a dog," she said to Mr. Bill. "At night, you know, he just
curls up here beside the door and goes to sleep. He is always here! It's
so tiresome. I do think that queens have to put up with an awful lot of
disagreeable things!" And she sighed.
"They get an awful lot, too," reminded Mr. Bill with a grin. "And as our
wise young friend, Joseph Cary, so truthfully remarks, you have to pay
for everything you get. Having Ka-kee-ta as a doormat isn't much of a
price to pay for all the romance and the luxury and the----"
"Oh, isn't it!" interrupted Tessie, her nose in the air. "I'll lend him
to you, and you can see what fun it is to have him at your heels all the
time."
"He wouldn't be lent!" declared Mr. Bill hastily, for in spite of his
words, he did not want Ka-kee-ta at his heels for a minute. It was all
right for Tessie to have a bodyguard, but it would be far from all right
for the basement floorwalker of the Evergreen to be so attended. "What
was your uncle afraid of in his islands that he trained a man to stand
beside him with an ax in his hand?" he asked curiously.
"The people!" Tessie told him in a whisper. "That's another reason why
I'm not so crazy over this queen business as I was. I never used to be
afraid of anything, and now I'm afraid of almost everything!"
Mr. Bill laughed indulgently because he was not afraid of anything, and
admiringly because Tessie was so adorable when she was afraid of almost
everything. He took her hand and pressed it. Immediately Ka-kee-ta, who
stood in the open door watching them with the wide questioning eyes of a
child, gave another howl. Mr. Bill hastily jumped away from Tessie.
"The dickens!" he exclaimed.
"You see how it is!" Tessie shrugged her shoulders as she clasped the
hand Mr. Bill had squeezed. "He is just impossible! Sometimes," she
lowered her voice as if she would not for the world let Ka-kee-ta hear
what she was going to say, "I have a mind to give the whole thing up!"
Mr. Bill stared at her in horrified astonishment. "Your kingdom?" he
gasped.
She nodded.
"You couldn't do it!"
"Why couldn't I?"
Mr. Bill's reason was not a very good one. "Because," he said vaguely.
But when Tessie showed an impatient dissatisfaction with it he found
another reason. "It isn't done, you know! Kings and queens have to stay
on their thrones as long as the people want them there."
"That's exactly the idea," mourned Tessie. "As long as the people want
them on thrones! But suppose the people don't want them?" She shivered
as she remembered what Mr. Pracht had said happened when the Sunshine
Islanders did not want the king who was on their throne.
Mr. Bill was puzzled. "What is it?" he demanded sharply. "What's
happened? I could see all evening that something was the matter. When we
played hearts you acted as if your mind was miles away. You let dad give
you every heart in the pack. What is it? Has the special representative
come? What makes you talk as if your people didn't want you for their
queen?" He started to go closer and then remembered the watch-dog and
walked to the door and shut it almost on Ka-kee-ta's tattooed nose.
"What is it?" he asked again, and now he was very close to Tessie. He
looked anxiously into her troubled face. He wanted to help her. He had
never wanted to help a girl as he wanted to help Tessie.
Tessie's voice shook as she answered him. "The special representative is
a prisoner in the islands. The Sons of Sunshine--I told you about
them?--have captured him and locked him up. They don't want a white
ruler--a white queen! And I heard to-day that when the Sunshine Islands
people don't like their king, they boil him in oil!" Her lip quivered.
Her eyes were big and frightened as she looked at Mr. Bill.
"I don't believe it!" declared Mr. Bill quickly. "I don't believe a word
of it! Such things aren't done now! Maybe in the Dark Ages, but not now!
Take it from me! It sounds like a rank movie!" he insisted.
Tessie smiled wanly. It was cheering to hear Mr. Bill declare with so
much warm emphasis that he did not believe the Sunshine Islanders kept
up their ancient customs. "It made me want to sell the islands right
away," she faltered.
"Sell the islands!" He was shocked. "You can't do that!" he exclaimed.
"Dad wouldn't let you!"
Tessie looked at him quickly, almost suspiciously. "What do you mean?
What has your father and the Evergreen to do with my islands?"
Mr. Bill flushed and stammered. "Nothing of course," he said. "Only he
is awfully interested! He's tried to help you in every way, given you
unlimited credit and advice and everything. And he wouldn't like you to
do anything without his per--I mean without talking to him. I wouldn't
want you to sell your islands, either. I like to think of you as a
queen! You are such a peach! You should be a queen!" And his hand shot
out again, and it would have found her fingers if she had not moved away
from him.
"I think," she said with a quick catch of her breath, "you had better
go. It must be Ka-kee-ta's bedtime!" she insisted, when he showed no
sign of going.
"Darn Ka-kee-ta!" he exclaimed somewhat rudely.
But he had to go away, and when he had reluctantly said good night and
disappeared down the corridor, Tessie turned impatiently to her
bodyguard, who was yawning beside the door.
"You see, Ka-kee-ta," she said slowly and distinctly so that he would be
sure to understand her, "nothing happened to me when I went away without
you. I think I shall leave you at home often."
Ka-kee-ta shook his frizzled head and waved his ax. "The Tear of God!"
he rumbled. "The king's jewel!"
Tessie looked at him, and her eyes widened. "If I leave the Tear of God
with you will it be all right?" she guessed. "You aren't looking after
me, are you, Ka-kee-ta? It's the king's jewel you are taking care of."
And when he said never a word, but just stood and gaped at her, she
plucked courage to ask him in a frightened whisper; "Ka-kee-ta, did you
ever see any one boiled in oil?"
The words were scarcely across her lips before she discovered that she
did not want to hear what Ka-kee-ta had seen. She did not want to know
how savage her people could be. She shut the door and went to her own
room, the most puzzled little queen in the world.
There were many questions to puzzle her, questions concerning the
islands and Joe Cary, who was so anxious for her to abandon the islands,
and Mr. Bill, and old Mr. Kingley, who was so eager for her to keep her
inheritance. What difference did it make to old Mr. Kingley whether she
was a queen or not? She could understand why Joe Cary wanted her to
abdicate. Joe didn't believe in queens nor in kings. But Mr. Kingley--
What business was it of his? And Mr. Bill! He had said he didn't believe
the Sunshine Islanders were savage or cannibal. She would believe Mr.
Bill, she decided with a fluttering heart. Of course he knew. And he was
right! So long as she remained in Waloo the Sunshine Islanders--even the
revolutionary Sons of Sunshine--could not harm her. But she couldn't
remain in Waloo forever and be the queen of the Sunshine Islands, too!
That wouldn't be fair. Joe Cary said it wouldn't be fair. She would ask
Mr. Bill the very first thing in the morning. Mr. Bill really knew more
about kings and queens than Joe Cary anyway. He had seen some of them.
Mr. Bill's own mother had told her that he had seen Queen Mary of
England. Oh, dear! Wouldn't she ever go to sleep?
It was a long time before her busy little brain would let her go to
sleep, and it seemed no time at all after she was asleep before she was
wakened by Granny, who handed her a letter. The sun was streaming
through the open window with a dash and a vigor which made Tessie's
sleepy eyes blink. So she had slept after all, for it was black night
when she had closed her eyes and now it was bright day. She looked at
the letter.
"What is it?" she asked sleepily.
"It was just sent up from the office. And it's marked important." Granny
sounded important as she showed Tessie the word scrawled on the
envelope. "I thought perhaps it might be something about that special
representative. Maybe he has escaped from those rebels!" suggested
Granny, eager to know what was inside the letter which was so important
on the outside. "Really, Tessie, when I think of those Sons of Sunshine
I wish Johnny was here instead of at that Boy Scout camp. I've got more
confidence in a good strong American boy than I have in all the
frizzle-headed, tattooed natives in the world! Even if they do carry
axes in their hand."
Tessie scarcely heard Granny. She had opened the letter, but something
in the black writing made her face turn white.
"What is it, Tessie?" Granny caught her shoulder. "Tell Granny what it
is? Drat that Pete!" she murmured under her breath. "I wish he had run
away with a circus, instead of to sea to be washed up on that island and
make trouble for us all."
"It's--it's from that Mr. Pracht!" gulped Tessie. "And he says I can
have until night to make up my mind to sell the islands. And he says he
forgot to say that sometimes usurpers are sent to live in a leper
colony. I don't want to be a leper, Granny!" And she clung to the strong
hands which had reached out to clasp her.
"There, there, my lamb!" crooned Granny. "Of course you don't! And you
shan't be a leper! You leave it to Granny, and get up and get dressed so
you'll be ready for what comes. And that Pracht might as well understand
that he's going the wrong way. He can't scare a Gilfooly. Maybe he can
surprise 'em, but he can't scare 'em! Look at your Uncle Pete! Died a
king! All the rebels in six cannibal islands didn't scare him a mite! If
those Sunshine Islands are worth buying, they're worth holding on to
until we know more about them. You just write this Pracht man a letter
and tell him you aren't selling any islands to-day. Perhaps then he'll
offer more," she added shrewdly.
"I don't care what he offers, he can't buy my islands!" exclaimed
Tessie, gathering courage from Granny's proud boast that a Gilfooly was
not to be frightened. "A queen can't resign her job unless her people
ask her to, and Mr. Pracht isn't one of my people. He's a Pennsylvania
German. He said so."
"That's it! That's it!" declared Granny, delighted to see that Tessie's
white face had turned pink again. "You just put that in the letter! What
we got to do, Tessie Gilfooly, is to find out why he wants to buy those
islands, and then we'll know more about selling them."
Tessie slipped into her gorgeous negligee of pink georgette and lace,
thrust her feet into pink satin mules, and sat at her desk to write to
Mr. Pracht that she would never think of selling her islands to anybody,
that she hoped he would say no more about it. As for leper colonies and
shark's oil, she was not afraid. She was a Gilfooly, of the same blood
as King Pete, and the Gilfoolys were not afraid of anything or anybody.
"That's right!" indorsed Granny, who was looking over Tessie's shoulder.
"They aren't!"
"E-ven reb--" Tessie's hurried pen halted, and Tessie looked at Granny.
"One l or two in rebels, Granny?" she asked uncertainly.
"It don't make any difference," exclaimed Granny, "so long as there's
plenty of courage in the Gilfoolys."
"Perhaps I'd better let Norah Lee write it on the typewriter." Tessie
eyed her letter dubiously.
"Don't you do it, dearie! Just sign your name and put it in this
envelope. There are some letters that secretaries shouldn't write. You
just finish it as good as you begun it, and I guess Mr. Pracht will
understand it, no matter how many l's you put in rebels."
Tessie sighed gently. "I often wish I'd finished high school, Granny,"
she said slowly. "Mr. Bill went to college," she added sadly as she
signed her letter "Queen Teresa of the Sunshine Islands." "There!" she
slipped the letter into an envelope and ran her pink tongue over the
gummed flap. "If you'll give that to Ka-kee-ta and ask him to take it to
Mr. Pracht. To Mr. Pracht himself!" she insisted. "When Mr. Pracht sees
Ka-kee-ta and his ax, perhaps he won't be so free with his words. And
while Ka-kee-ta is out, tell him to buy me some chocolates. He might as
well get a five-pound box, and they can put it on the bill," she said
with a right royal disregard for payment.
As she went back to her room, she passed a long mirror which flashed
her a picture of a slim little girl in a lovely pink negligee, with a
tousled head and a flushed face. She went back and looked in the mirror
again. Suddenly she remembered that a month ago she had no lovely pink
negligee, no pink satin mules, and that at this time of the morning she
would have been selling aluminum in the Evergreen basement for hours.
How wonderful it was! She smiled radiantly and blew a kiss to the girl
in the mirror, who was smiling, too.
"Oh, Granny!" Tessie hugged her Granny. "Can you believe it? Isn't it
great to be a queen?"
Granny hugged her. "I wonder," she said absently, "what Mr. Pracht will
say when he reads your letter?"
Tessie snapped her fingers. She was a Gilfooly, you know, and the
Gilfoolys were a fearless race.
"That for Mr. Pracht!" she exclaimed. "And that for his threats!" She
snapped her fingers again. "Isn't there a law, Granny," she asked
suddenly, "that protects people from threats? I'm going to ask Mr.
Bill!"
"Ask Joe Cary," advised Granny. "He'll know more about law than Mr.
Bill. I wouldn't be surprised if there was such a law, Tessie, and if
there ain't there ought to be. It was like your wise little head to
think of it. Mr. Pracht will feel smart if he finds himself in jail,
won't he? Now what are you going to have for breakfast? I had some
strawberries, some ham and eggs and some hot cakes."
"I'll have some, too," Tessie said, after she had giggled at the
attractive picture Granny had painted of the disturbing Mr. Pracht
tightly locked in jail. "And don't forget the cream! I like a lot of
cream."