Three Little Stones
“Lunch is served,” announced Grandmother Gordon quickly.
As she shooed the Brownies to their places at the long table, she was
hopeful that they would forget her unfinished remark about the Stone
children.
However, everyone wondered what she had intended to say.
Before anyone could ask, Grandfather Gordon came in and began
questioning the Brownies about the fun they had had on Hammer Hill.
“The skating is good on the lake too,” he told them. “Better try out
those skates soon, because if a heavy snow should come along, the
skating might be ruined.”
“Will it snow again, do you think?” Sunny asked anxiously, peering out
at the deep drifts.
“Can’t tell. It might,” replied Grandfather Gordon. “Haven’t seen the
weather prediction, but my bones tell me there’s more snow in the air.”
The coasting expedition had made the Brownies as hungry as polar bears.
After the soup had warmed them, they devoted themselves to the huge
platter of hamburgers. But no matter how many they ate, Grandmother
Gordon always brought in more from the kitchen.
“Let’s tell Grandfather Gordon about our plan to help the Stones!”
suggested Eileen.
Connie shot her a warning glance, but she did not understand its
meaning. Instead, she went on and told again of the plan to buy a
Christmas sled for the three children.
“Well, well, that is a kindly thought,” commented Mr. Gordon.
However, as he spoke, he glanced at his wife. Grandmother Gordon’s thin
lips were drawn into a tight line. She couldn’t hide the fact that she
didn’t approve of the plan at all.
“Don’t you like the idea of the Brownies using their spending money to
help others?” Miss Gordon asked her.
“Why, yes, of course. I heartily approve of charity if the object is
worthy.”
“And you believe that the Stone children are deserving?” Miss Gordon
asked, deliberately pinning her down.
Grandmother Gordon hastily began to gather up the dishes. She would
have liked to avoid answering by escaping to the kitchen.
Miss Gordon smiled and took the dishes from her hands.
“Must I answer?” Grandmother Gordon asked uncomfortably.
“Indeed, you must, for you’ve raised a question in our minds.”
“Well,” said Grandmother Gordon facing the Brownies and choosing
her words carefully, “I honestly must say, I hardly know the Stone
children. Never once have they been in my home. For all I know, they
are deserving enough.”
“And yet for some undisclosed reason, you don’t entirely approve of the
Brownie plan. Come, out with it! Don’t try to hoodwink us!”
From the far end of the table, Grandfather Gordon chuckled at his
wife’s discomfiture.
“You may as well fess up,” he teased her. “Tell ’em the truth about why
you don’t like the Stone family.”
“Oh, dear!” Grandmother Gordon sank back in her chair. She did not
enjoy being cornered. “I suppose I must, or I’ll never hear the last of
it!”
“Tell the girls about the necklace,” urged Grandfather Gordon.
“Necklace?” Sunny repeated in astonishment. She could not imagine what
a necklace might have to do with the Stone children.
“It wasn’t a necklace, but a gold locket,” corrected Grandmother
Gordon. She sighed and added: “My dislike of the Stones simmers down to
this--I’m not convinced they’re honest.”
“The children steal?” gasped Connie.
“Oh, no!” hastily corrected Grandmother Gordon. “I’ll start at the
beginning--then you’ll understand. Three years ago, Mrs. Stone worked
for me at threshing time. She helped out in the kitchen and with the
housework for nearly a month.”
“Mrs. Stone works by the day,” explained Miss Gordon. “Her husband has
a job in the village, but is ill much of the time.”
“I always liked Mrs. Stone, and I’ll give her credit for being a good
worker,” Grandmother Gordon continued. “The poor woman probably was
tempted. Otherwise, I’m sure she wouldn’t have taken anything.”
“You say she stole a gold locket?” asked Connie.
“It was my wedding locket which I set great store by. I foolishly
showed it to Mrs. Stone and she greatly admired it. After that, I never
could find it, though I scoured the house high and low.”
“You’re certain Mrs. Stone took the locket?” inquired Miss Gordon,
deeply troubled.
“I can’t be certain except in my own mind.”
“You didn’t accuse her?”
“No, but I never asked her to work for me again.”
Grandfather Gordon, who had listened to his wife’s story, now said with
a chuckle:
“Suppose I tell you my version of what happened?”
“Yes, do!” urged the Brownies.
“In my opinion, the locket never was stolen. My wife just misplaced it.”
“No such thing!” insisted Grandmother Gordon. “After I missed the
locket, I searched the house high and low.”
“You’ll find it someday,” declared Grandfather Gordon. “When you do,
you’ll be sorry you accused poor Mrs. Stone.”
“I never did accuse her,” corrected Mrs. Gordon. “It was just a feeling
I had. I couldn’t have her working in my home, because I was convinced
beyond a shadow of doubt that she took the locket.”
“Ah, a shadow of doubt!” teased Grandfather Gordon. “If my memory does
not fail me, you have made slight errors before. Now the time your
glasses were lost--”
“That was entirely different. To be sure, I have misplaced articles.
But not the locket!”
“You say you recall showing it to Mrs. Stone?” questioned Miss Gordon
thoughtfully.
“Distinctly. She had been working for me during threshing time.
Then Grandfather Gordon and I planned a little wedding anniversary
celebration--nothing elaborate--only a few guests.
“For the occasion, I put on my old lavender silk wedding gown.”
“And the gold locket?” asked Connie, who was deeply interested in the
story.
“No, the chain was broken, so I could not wear it. But I recall showing
the locket to Mrs. Stone.”
“You were in the kitchen at the time,” said Grandfather Gordon, who had
heard the tale so many times he knew it from memory.
“That’s right. Mrs. Stone admired it and remarked that it was the most
beautiful locket she had ever seen. She took it to the kitchen mirror
and held it to her own neck a moment.”
“A very natural reaction,” commented Miss Gordon. “But it hardly
proves--”
“The guests began to arrive then,” Grandmother Gordon interrupted. “I
left the locket lying on the kitchen table and entered the living room.
Not until much later did I give the matter another thought.”
“You surely asked Mrs. Stone about the locket?” inquired Miss Gordon.
“Only casually, for at first I thought surely I would find it. And how
could I accuse her without proof?”
“So you thought you would find it?” teased her husband. “That reveals
to me that deep down in your mind, you knew you might have misplaced it
yourself.”
“Nothing of the sort! I recall leaving it on the kitchen table. While
I entertained my guests, it disappeared. I’ve never seen it since, and
never will.”
“Couldn’t anyone except Mrs. Stone have taken it?” asked Jane. “One of
the guests perhaps?”
“Only Mrs. Stone was in the kitchen.”
“Maybe the locket was thrown out with the garbage,” speculated Eileen.
“Once my mother lost a silver spoon that way.”
“I don’t see how such a thing could have occurred,” declared
Grandmother Gordon. “If the locket were lost, Mrs. Stone would be
responsible, because she did all the kitchen work that day.”
“Your mind is dead set against the woman,” said her husband. “Poor Mrs.
Stone and those children the Brownies want to help!”
“I feel very sorry for the three children. If they need toys, I see no
harm in the Brownies helping out. I shouldn’t have said a word about
the locket.”
“On the contrary, it’s well to know the truth about the family,”
returned Miss Gordon. “However, since no one can be certain Mrs. Stone
actually took the locket, I believe in giving her the benefit of the
doubt. How about it, Brownies?”
“Let’s buy the sled just as we planned,” proposed Connie.
“I say so too!” cried Veve, forgetting that she was not a Brownie.
All the members of the troop agreed with Connie and Miss Gordon that
their plan should not be abandoned.
“I truly am sorry I told you anything about it,” apologized Grandmother
Gordon. “I should regret it deeply if this story ever were repeated
outside the family.”
“Brownies know how to keep secrets,” Miss Gordon assured her.
“I wish we could find the locket and prove that Mrs. Stone didn’t take
it,” said Connie soberly.
“My dear, I wish you could too,” smiled Grandmother Gordon.
“Unfortunately, one can’t alter facts.”
No more was said about the matter just then. The Brownies cleared the
table and did the dishes.
After that, some of the girls rode to the village with Grandfather
Gordon. Connie, Veve, and Rosemary remained behind to write letters
home. Later, they played with Fluff and pressed their Brownie uniforms
which had become mussed on the trip.
“Now what shall we do?” Rosemary asked when the task had been finished.
She liked to keep busy all the time.
“Have you any work you would like to have us do, Mrs. Gordon?” inquired
Connie politely.
“Not a thing,” the woman replied. “Just amuse yourselves.”
“May we do anything we like?” Connie asked, a mischievous twinkle in
her eyes.
“Well, almost anything, dear.”
“Then I have a very special request. You wont be annoyed?”
“Certainly not. What is your request, Connie?”
“While we’re here, may the Brownies search for the missing locket?”
“Here in the kitchen?”
“Yes, and everywhere in the house.”
Now the request had taken Grandmother Gordon quite by surprise. She
could visualize the Brownies scurrying through the house, opening
bureau drawers and peeping into every nook and cranny of the old
dwelling.
“We’ll be very careful,” promised Connie eagerly. “We won’t disturb
anything.”
“Then by all means search for the locket,” Grandmother Gordon
encouraged the girls. She smiled confidently. “You won’t find the
trinket, but you’ll have fun.”