BELLE RINGOLD
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.
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.
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.
"I am sure they are going to use my idea," Belle Ringold said, with a
toss of her bobbed curls.
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
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.
"They couldn't throw out my idea," repeated Belle.
"What is it, Belle, honey?" asked one of her chums.
"She can't tell," put in Amy, who was present. "That is one of the
rules."
"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."
"Dear me," drawled Amy, laughing. "You're just as sure as sure, aren't
you?"
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.
"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?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Chip, who was a snub-nosed boy whose chums declared
"all his brains were in his head."
"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."
"Cricky, Chip! how did you come to think of that?" demanded one of the
boys in an undertone.
"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."
Amid the muffled explosion of laughter following this statement, Miss
Seymour began speaking again:
"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."
At this announcement Belle Ringold actually cried out: "What's that?"
"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 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."
"Well, isn't that the meanest thing!" ejaculated Belle Ringold.
"Did I hear you say something, Belle?" demanded Miss Seymour, in her
very sternest way.
"Well, I want to say----"
"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.
"Well, isn't she the mean thing!" exclaimed one of those girls who
liked to stand well with Belle Ringold.
"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."
"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."
"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."
"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.
"As usual," commented Amy. "Why should we care?"
"I hate to have unpleasant things happen."
"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."
"How can they, when wireless telegraphy has been known so long?"
"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."
"Ha, ha!" giggled her chum. "All the spooks you know anything about
personally are blacksnakes. Don't forget that."
"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."
"I was trying to get daddy interested in her and in her lost
cousin--if that was her cousin whom we 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."
"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?"
"Scrumptious. By the way, who is going to pay for it?"
"Oh, my! Haven't you any money?" demanded Amy.
"We-ell, you suggested this treat."
"But you should stand it. You won the prize coat," giggled Amy.
"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?"
"But haven't you any money?" cried Amy.
"Not one cent. I shall have to hurry back to the parish house and beg
some of Momsy."
"And leave me here?" demanded Amy. "Never!"
"How will you fix it, then?" asked Jessie, who was really disturbed
and could not enjoy her sundae.
"Oh, don't let that nice treat go to waste, Jess."
"It does not taste nice to me if we can't pay for it."
"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."
"Amy Drew! Behave!"
"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."
"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----"
"Oh, you won't have to," interrupted Amy. "Here come some of the
girls. We can borrow----"
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.