TUMBLING IN
“Your sister took it,” said Nicky simply, as the whole party stood in
Miss Davis’ parlor waiting to hear.
“My sister—took it!” Miss Isabel Davis could scarcely articulate; she
was too surprised.
“Yep. She said _you_ wanted to show it and _she_ didn’t. She said it
was hers too, and she gave me five dollars not to tell.” This last
admission caused the boy to flush a little under his dark skin, for
the taking of that “hush money” had worried Nicky considerably.
“And Miss Davis’s sister knew _that_ you knew where we hid it?” Babs
asked in tone, but not exactly in words. “How did she know that?”
“Please sit down,” begged the hostess excitedly. “I am so flustered.
Sister is coming home on this train. There’s the taxi——”
And it rumbled up to the door.
Just what was said after that was pretty hard to keep track of
because, not only was every one talking at once but every one was so
happy each just seemed to bubble up in a perfect torrent of
excitement.
“It was all right, wasn’t it, Sister?” the newly arrived Miss Davis,
the other twin, was asking Miss Isabel Davis, “I was too proud to have
our heirloom shown to a—mob,” she stated. “But I was wrong. You were
right,” she admitted to her sister. “It would have been an honor to
have had our _Santa Maria_ among those other heirlooms. And there was
no common crowd. I’ve read the papers every day and I hope we can get
our ship in before it closes. I’d love to have it there.”
“You can,” said Dr. Hale. “I’ll see about that. I’m on the final
committee.”
“But where did you hide it?” asked the dazed Miss Isabel, addressing
her sister.
“I didn’t hide it at all,” the sister replied. “I put it just where it
belonged, in the cabinet.”
“In the cabinet!” exclaimed Babs. “And they were blaming Nicky——”
“In the cabinet!” repeated Miss Isabel, breathlessly, making straight
for the tall mahogany desk that had a glass compartment at the top.
“You could have found it if you had looked, Sister,” the other twin
told her. “And you didn’t even ask me about it.”
“I didn’t dare to, I was so worried.” Miss Isabel stood looking at the
vague lines of the ship model behind the glass door. “Well! Well! And
that was there all the time! What a foolish old woman I am!”
“But you see, Nicky was wise after all,” put in Babs. “He got that
precious five dollars——”
“And here’s five more.” Miss Isabel ran her hand in her pocket and
soon held out a bill. “He deserves it. I owe it to him. Take it, son,
and you’re a fine little man.” She couldn’t just think of anything
more complimentary to say, and her eyes were swimming.
Five dollars more! That meant a lot to Nicky, and he undertook to fold
the precious bill so carefully that Cara wondered where he was going
to put it. She watched. The others were all talking again, and Nicky
noticed her interest.
“See?” he said, taking from his magic pocket, that never leaked in
spite of his tatters, a carved peach pit. “I did that,” he admitted
shyly, opening the pit and placing the finely folded bill in the
center.
“And I’m just telling sister about your sampler,” piped up Miss Isabel
to Babs. “And how it brought about our relationship. Isn’t this too
wonderful,” she impulsively threw her arms around Babs, “to have
cousins! We are going to be cousins——”
“Sampler cousins,” joked Babs, who was almost as dazed as was Miss
Isabel. But she had never for a moment lost faith in Nicky, so the
establishment of his honesty did not at all surprise her. The idea of
the twins stealing their own boat model! That was funny!
“And just wait until you see mine,” she told the ladies. “You won’t be
the only ones in _our_ family,” she stressed the pronoun, “with a
model of Columbus’ ship. _Our_ artists are making me one.”
“And I’ll have them make me the _Pinta_,” declared Cara. “You know,
the companion ship to the _Santa Maria_.”
“And maybe we can complete the fleet by getting me the Nina,” joined
in Dr. Hale, laughing heartily.
“The _Santa Maria_!” said the twins.
“The _Nina_,” said Dr. Hale.
“And the _Pinta_,” finished Cara.
“The whole float,” chuckled Nicky. “Sure we can make them. Ben’s good
at ship models.”
Cara was thrilled, she admitted.
“I never had so much fun in all my life,” she told Babs,
enthusiastically. “I just can’t wait to see the other girls’ faces
when they hear. Them and their black handers,” she choked, swinging
around toward Nicky who was at the door.
“Here!” called out one of the twins, “you must wait for tea. It won’t
take a minute. Come back here, Nickolas——”
“I gotta go,” sang back the boy who was waiting for nothing, neither
tea, cookies, nor even an auto ride. He was flying back to camp with
the five-dollar bill crammed into the peach pit.
“Talk about society,” whispered Cara to Babs, as a little later they
sipped their tea from the beautiful old china cups, with the deep
garnet gold-rimmed bands, “this beats even a house party. Aren’t the
twinnies lovely?”
“But wasn’t that a wonderful surprise? To find the model just where it
belonged, and to think that any one could ever suspect——”
“Your Nicky,” finished Cara. “That was mean. But we knew, didn’t we?”
she insisted loyally, glancing around her happily, for the scene with
the old ladies and the doctor was what Ruth would have called
“quaint.”
And speaking of Ruth, it was she who led the cheering squad next day
at the Community House when first prize was awarded to the Misses
Davis’ entry, the ship model of the famous old Columbus boat, the
_Santa Maria_.
Nicky was there but no one saw him. He was perched on the piece of
lattice where the vines were so thick he had to tear them apart to
peek into the room. And if he had stirred suddenly he might have
spilled himself in, for the queer window was built high in the side
wall of the room, and it was wide open. No one could possibly have
seen Nicky—he had a grandstand seat, only he had to stand up.
It took a long time to settle all the prizes for quilts and cushions
and lamp shades, and as Cara said, it was a real blessing they had not
thought of nightgowns. Or maybe it was Ruth who said that, but at any
rate, the girls’ department had a good laugh over the idea, for such a
show would indeed have been too funny for words. Imagine the big
muslin high-necked, long-sleeved gowns in these days of dainty silks
and cobwebby lingerie.
“There comes your sampler,” Esther told Barbara, as one of the ladies
stepped forward with the framed sampler in her hand.
The chairwoman, Mrs. Winters, took it and made quite a speech about
its wonderful handwork. She declared it was a magnificent sample of
early American needlework, and that it was well worthy of a first
prize. This she then awarded the blushing Barbara, and just as Barbara
turned again towards the audience a cheer, a boyish cheer, came in
through the window.
“Hurrah!” shouted Nicky, and every one turned around.
The next moment a boy came tumbling down! For Nicky, in his enthusiasm
had put his head in too far!
“Land sakes!”
“Mercy me!”
“What’s that!”
“A boy!” came in a succession of exclamations from the astonished
women. They scurried around as if a mouse had crawled into the room.
“Nicky!” screamed Barbara, “look out for Mrs. Brownell’s table.”
“I’m in me bare feet,” answered the embarrassed boy, “an’ they can’t
scratch.”
Then Dr. Hale dragged Nicky forward—he had to drag him literally, for
the boy wanted very much to escape. He told the astonished crowd
something of the recent history of the Marcusi family and Nicky’s
brilliant prospects.
“And you know his father,” Barbara reminded the speaker so that every
one in the room could hear her. “The Washington authorities have
promised to release Nicky’s father,” she managed to say. “They have
found him innocent,” she declared indignantly. “He never should have
been—have been taken from his family,” she insisted, as she always had
done when jail or prison might have been the word to choose.
“Hump!” grunted Nicky, “nobody never would have knowed that if it
hadn’t a-been for you!”
“Nicky!” Barbara tried to hush him.
“He’s right,” sang out Cara’s voice. “Barbara Hale has been working
all summer to help this Marcusi family and we girls were so stupid we
didn’t even——”
“You did as much as I did,” interrupted Babs, insisting upon paying
the compliment to Cara, in about the way girls insist upon paying each
other’s carfare while the conductor waits.
But the ladies didn’t wait; they clapped.
END
This Isn’t All!
Would you like to know what became of the good friends you
have made in this book?
Would you like to read other stories continuing their
adventures and experiences, or other books quite as
entertaining by the same author?
On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this
book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you
can buy at the same store where you got this book.
Don’t throw away the Wrapper
Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day
to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the
Publishers for a complete catalog.
THE LILIAN GARIS BOOKS
Illustrated. Every volume complete in itself.
Among her “fan” letters Lilian Garis receives some
flattering testimonials of her girl readers’ interest in
her stories. From a class of thirty comes a vote of
twenty-five naming her as their favorite author. Perhaps
it is the element of live mystery that Mrs. Garis always
builds her stories upon, or perhaps it is because the
girls easily can translate her own sincere interest in
themselves from the stories. At any rate her books prosper
through the changing conditions of these times, giving
pleasure, satisfaction, and, incidentally, that tactful
word of inspiration, so important in literature for young
girls. Mrs. Garis prefers to call her books “juvenile
novels” and in them romance is never lacking.
SALLY FOR SHORT
SALLY FOUND OUT
A GIRL CALLED TED
TED AND TONY, TWO GIRLS OF TODAY
CLEO’S MISTY RAINBOW
CLEO’S CONQUEST
BARBARA HALE
BARBARA HALE’S MYSTERY FRIEND
(Formerly Barbara Hale and Cozette)
NANCY BRANDON
NANCY BRANDON’S MYSTERY
CONNIE LORING
(Formerly Connie Loring’s Dilemma)
CONNIE LORING’S GYPSY FRIEND
(Formerly Connie Loring’s Ambition)
JOAN: JUST GIRL
JOAN’S GARDEN OF ADVENTURE
GLORIA: A GIRL AND HER DAD
GLORIA AT BOARDING SCHOOL
GROSSET & DUNLAP Publishers NEW YORK