CHAPTER I

BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER INHERITANCE

OR

THE QUEER HOMESTEAD AT CHERRY CORNERS

BY JANET D. WHEELER

1920

BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER INHERITANCE

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. AN ACCIDENT.

II. THAT HUNDRED DOLLARS.

III. CHET HELPS.

IV. THE LAST HOPE.

V. WORSE AND WORSE.

VI. DEBBIE DESERTS.

VII. A STRANGE BURGLAR.

VIII. STARTLING DEVELOPMENTS.

IX. GHOSTS AND THINGS.

X. OLD FURNITURE.

XI. BILLIE WINS OUT.

XII. GREAT PLANS.

XIII. CHERRY CORNERS.

XIV. WEIRD TALES.

XV. A NOISE IN THE DARK.

XVI. SHADOWS AND MYSTERY.

XVII. ONLY A BAT.

XVIII. A FISH STORY.

XIX. IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT.

XX. THE MOTOR AGAIN.

XXI. BOTH AT ONCE.

XXII. A THRILLING DISCOVERY.

XXIII. THE WRECKED AEROPLANE.

XXIV. COINS AND POSTAGE STAMPS.

XXV. "LARGE FORTUNES."

BILLIE BRADLEY AND HER INHERITANCE

CHAPTER I

AN ACCIDENT

"Aren't you glad that we are only going back to school for a little

while?" cried Billie Bradley, as she gave a little exultant skip.

"Suppose it were fall and we were beginning high--"

"Billie, stop it," commanded Laura Jordon, turning a pair of very blue

and very indignant eyes upon her chum. "I thought we were going to forget

school for a little while."

"Well, we're not going back for anything I forgot," Billie was asserting

when Violet Farrington, the third of the trio, interposed:

"If you two are going to quarrel on a day like this, I'm going home."

"Who said we were quarreling?" cried Billie, adding with a chuckle:

"We're just having what Miss Beggs" (Miss Beggs being their English

teacher) "would call an 'amiable discussion.'"

"Listen to the bright child!" cried Laura mockingly. "I don't see how

you ever get that way, Billie."

"Neither do I," replied Billie, adding with a chuckle as they turned to

stare at her: "Just natural talent, I guess."

The three chums--and three brighter, prettier girls it would be hard to

find--were on their way to the grammar school which had just closed the

week before. Laura had forgotten a book which she prized highly and was

in hope that the janitor, a good-natured old fellow, would let her in

long enough to get it. At the last minute she had asked the other girls

to go with her.

The three chums had lived in North Bend, a town of less than twenty

thousand people, practically all their lives. The girls loved it, for it

was a pretty place. Still, being only forty miles by rail from New York

City, they had been taken to the roaring metropolis once in a while as a

treat, and it was only with great difficulty that their parents had

succeeded in luring them home again.

Among other things North Bend boasted a jewelry factory, of which Raymond

Jordon, Laura's father, was the owner.

Billie's father was the prominent Martin Bradley, well known among real

estate and insurance men, and it was from him that Billie, whose real

name was Beatrice, had taken her brown eyes and brown hair and even that

merry, irrepressible imp of mischief that made Billie Bradley the most

popular, best-loved girl in all North Bend.

Her mother, Agnes Bradley, quiet, sincere and beautiful to look upon,

kept just the check on her gay young daughter that the young girl needed.

Billie had a brother, Chetwood Bradley, commonly known as "Chet"--a boy

as different from his sister as night is from day, yet, in his own more

quiet way, extremely attractive.

Laura's brother, Theodore, known to his intimates as Teddy, was a

handsome boy, as full of wild spirits as Billie herself. Teddy had

entertained a lively admiration for Billie Bradley since he was seven and

she was six. Teddy was tall for his fifteen years, and had already made a

name for himself in the field of athletics.

The third of the chums was Violet Farrington, a daughter of Richard

Farrington, a well-known lawyer of North Bend, and Grace Farrington, a

sweet, motherly woman.

Nearly everybody loved Violet, who was tall and dark and sweet-tempered.

She also acted as a sort of perpetual peace-maker between brown-eyed

Billie and blue-eyed Laura.

So now she was acting again on this glorious day in July when the roses

were out and the birds were singing and the sun was shining its

brightest.

"What shall we do if we can't get in?" suggested Billie, waving her hand

to Nellie Bane, another girl in her class, who passed on the opposite

side of the street.

"I suppose we'd have to go home again," answered Laura, adding with a

little worried frown: "Oh, I do hope I can get the book. I wouldn't lose

it for anything."

"There goes Amanda Peabody," cried Violet suddenly, clutching

Billie's arm.

"That makes no difference in my young life," Billie slangily assured her.

"As long as she _goes_, it's all right," added Laura, glancing after the

lanky figure of Amanda Peabody as the girl swung off in the other

direction.

Amanda Peabody was not popular with the girls. Nor was she with anybody,

for that matter. As far as the girls knew, she had not one friend in the

whole school.

Amanda was red-haired and freckled; and while these attributes alone

could not have accounted for her unpopularity, she added to them a

tendency to spy upon the other girls and then run and tell what she had

seen or heard.

It was this last characteristic that no fair-minded girl would tolerate

and so Amanda had lived in practical ostracism ever since she had come to

North Bend two years before.

"I don't think we ought to be too hard on her," said Violet, as they

turned the corner that brought the school into view. "She can't help her

mean disposition, I suppose. And anyway, Miss Beggs says there's always

some good to be found in everybody."

"Maybe," said Billie skeptically, "but hers is so small you would need a

microscope to see it. There's the janitor now, just going out. If we run

we can catch him."

And run they did, presenting themselves a minute later, rather red in the

face and out of breath, before a very much amused janitor.

"Hello," he cried, his twinkling eyes under their shaggy brows lighting

with pleasure as he looked at the girls. "Are you young ladies tryin' to

catch a train, or what?"

"Oh, no, no," cried Violet eagerly. "We were just trying to catch you,

Mr. Heegan."

"Oh-ho! An' it's mighty flattered I am," said Mr. Heegan, his Irish

brogue coming to the fore. "An' what, if I might be askin' you--"

"It's a book we left here," Billie broke in quickly. "Laura wants to know

if you will let us in long enough to get it."

"Sure, an' I will that," Mr. Heegan assured them, leading the way into

the school yard and pulling out his bunch of keys. "It must be a verra

important book," he added, smiling at them as he fitted the key in the

lock, "to be bringing you back to school after school's out."

"It was a gift from Father," Laura explained. "And I wouldn't lose it

for anything."

"All right, there you go," said the good-natured janitor, swinging the

door wide for them. "I'm goin' home, but I'll be comin' back in a few

minutes to lock up. You'd best not be stayin' here then," he added, with

a twinkling backward glance at them, "or it will be locked up for the

night you'll be."

"We won't be more than a minute," Violet assured him, and jubilantly the

girls ran through the empty, echoing hall and stopped before a door at

the farther end.

"It seems so horribly quiet," said Violet, looking around at them with

her hands on the door knob. "It makes you feel like a thief."

"Must be your guilty conscience," said Laura wickedly. "Come on, Vi;

we've got to hurry if we don't want to be 'locked in for the night.'"

"Are you sure you left the book here, Laura?" asked Billie, as

Violet opened the door and they crowded in. "It would be too bad if

it were gone--"

But a cry from Laura interrupted her.

"There it is," she said, running to a desk at the farther end of the room

and picking up from an inner corner a prettily bound book. "Just the very

place I left it, too. My, but I'm glad to get it back again."

"What do you think you're doing, Billie Bradley?" inquired Laura a

minute later, for Billie had seated herself at the teacher's desk and was

looking as severe as she knew how.

"Take your seats," she now commanded, rapping vigorously on the desk and

fixing them with her best school-teacher stare. "Violet Farrington, go to

the board--"

But she got no further, for with an indignant cry the girls had rushed on

her. Dropping both her air of command and her dignity, Billie scurried

wildly around the room, keeping the desks between her and her pursuers.

"You can't catch me! You can't catch me!" she taunted them, as she

dodged nimbly in and out among the desks. "I could keep this up all day,

I could--"

"Oh, you could, could you?" cried Laura, and, making a desperate lunge,

she almost had her hand on Billie's dress. "We'll see about that. Billie!

what are you doing?"

For Billie had suddenly doubled on her tracks, rushed to the back of the

room, put her foot upon a steam radiator pipe and was trying to clamber

to the top of a bookcase.

It was a tall bookcase, and on the top of it stood a marble statue.

"Billie, look out!" screamed Violet as the bookcase shook and the statue

seemed about to topple over by reason of Billie's wild scrambling.

"You won't catch me this time," Billie was defying them, when--the awful

thing happened!

The marble statue toppled once more, trembled as though it were not quite

sure whether to fall or stay where it was, then came tumbling to the

floor with a crash.

The girls cried out, and then stood dumbly looking at the pieces.

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