GIVING AN ATTIC PARTY
PEERING in at them was a hideous yellow face with a nose that in the
light from the room seemed to be fiery red. The face was pressed against
the window pane. Now a long-drawn, dismal groan sounded from the other
side of the window.
"It's a ghost!" cried Grace.
Barbara, however, had seen more than the other girls, and, mustering up
all her courage, ran to the door.
"Come back!" called the girls anxiously. Bab kept on, unheeding their
cries. As she jerked the outside door open, they heard a crash and the
frightful face suddenly disappeared from the window. Ruth and Olive
rushed to the door. Both girls remembered that an old rain barrel had
stood under that window for a long time.
"I've got the spook!" shouted Bab triumphantly. "I picked it out of the
rain barrel." She came in, dragging by an ear the irrepressible Tom.
"Thomas Warrington Presby, what does this mean?" demanded Olive
sternly.
"The--the rain barrel went to pieces," complained Tom.
"Oh! Was it you who scared us out of our wits?" questioned Mollie.
"I knew it was a false face almost the instant I saw it," said Barbara.
"Thomas, I fear I shall have to turn you over to your father. You have
evidently forgotten some things."
Tom wriggled, his face worked anxiously.
"Please don't. Maul me, do anything you want to punish me. I won't
squeal, but don't peach to father."
"Girls, what shall we do with him?" asked Bab.
"I move we make him sit down on the rug and eat marshmallows," suggested
Ruth.
"The very idea," agreed Mollie.
"But we want them ourselves," objected Grace.
"I have another box," admitted Olive. "Your father sent two boxes,
though I did not intend to tell you about the second one just yet."
It was agreed that Tom's punishment should be a sweet one. Tom grinned
broadly.
"Those things are for girls. I can swallow a boxful without winking an
eyelid," he declared. "Gimme the box."
"No, Thomas, you aren't going to eat them that way. We are going to wait
on you and help you to every mouthful," answered Barbara sweetly. "It
isn't every boy who has five nice girls to wait on him when he eats. Is
it, Tommy?"
"No," answered the boy in a doubtful tone. He did not exactly like the
look of things now. Barbara placed a firm hand on his arm and set him
down on a rug in front of the fireplace. Tommy was closer to the fire
than was comfortable, but there seemed to be no escape for him. The five
girls speared as many marshmallows, toasted them and thrust them flaming
at the boy. Tommy gulped down the first one with evident enjoyment. Four
others went down easily. Tommy decided that marshmallows were pretty
good stuff. He called for more, and got them. There was always a stick
with a flaming cube on the end of it ready to be thrust into his mouth.
Tommy rolled his eyes with satisfaction.
"I could take punishment like this for a week at a stretch. More!"
Still the girls fed him. Even Olive was gentle and considerate. Tommy
did not recall ever having seen her more so. All the girls were very
kind to him, but there was a mischievous twinkle in their eyes that
Tommy was not astute enough to read.
[Illustration: "I've Got the Spook," Shouted Bab Triumphantly.]
After a time the marshmallows began to take on a bitter taste. He did
not appear to be eating them with the same relish as before.
"That stuff's no good for men," he jeered.
"Have another, Tommy," answered Bab, thrusting a blue flame into the
boy's face.
"You needn't burn a fellow up," he rebuked, then swallowed the
marshmallow with a gulp.
"Here, Tommy, is a nice, large one," added Mollie.
Tom's eyes were rolling. His face that had appeared very red when he
first sat down before the fire, had grown several shades paler. The
girls continued to feed him with marshmallows, forcing one after another
upon him.
"I won't take another----" Tom did not finish what he had started to
say. Olive thrust a hot marshmallow into the boy's open mouth. Tommy
closed his mouth instantly, but not soon enough. The hot sweet clung to
the roof of his mouth, bringing from Tommy a yell of pain.
"I'll be even with you girls for this," he howled, the tears starting
from his eyes as he bounded for the kitchen for a drink of water. A
shout of merry laughter followed him. Tommy felt very sick and staggered
off to bed, where, half an hour later, his mother found him groaning. In
response to Mrs. Presby's anxious inquiries, Tommy explained that he had
an "awful stomachache."
"He deserved it," declared Olive. "He will learn to let us girls alone,
I hope. Nevertheless, we got even with him this time."
"Yes, revenge is sweet," observed Bab, whereat the girls groaned
dismally.
* * * * *
It had been decided that the "Automobile Girls" and Olive were to drive
into Chicago on the following morning to bring Miss Sallie and Mr.
Stuart also to Treasureholme, if he could be induced to return with
them. Ruth felt too that Mr. A. Bubble had not been getting enough
exercise of late. Her companions agreed with her. But the next morning
dawned most disappointingly. A great gale was blowing in from Lake
Michigan, accompanied by blinding flurries of snow. It was not a
cheerful outlook. The day was dark and the wind bitter cold.
Ruth was for starting out just the same, but a telephone call from Miss
Sallie while the girls were at breakfast was to the effect that Mr.
Stuart had absolutely forbidden their starting out in such a storm.
"I am sorry, girls, but when dad puts it that way he means what he says.
I speak from long experience," declared Ruth. "We shall have to wait
until to-morrow."
"This storm is likely to last for some days," announced Mr. Presby.
Ruth made a wry face.
"We will explore for the treasure if we have to stay in the house all
the time," said Bab. "A day like this makes one feel mysterious."
"And creepy," added Mollie. "Why, good morning, Tommy. How are you
to-day?" she smiled, as Master Thomas Presby took his place at the
breakfast table. Tommy grunted out some unintelligible reply. For some
reason he was not in the best of humor that morning.
In the meantime Olive was trying to think up some entertainment that
would amuse the girls on a stormy day.
"I have it," she cried. "How would you girls like an attic party?"
They did not quite understand, never having heard of an attic party.
"What do we do at an attic party?" asked Mollie. "Do we have luncheon in
the attic?"
"No. It is an entirely new idea with me. My idea is that we go to the
attic and rummage. There are old chests and trunks up there, together
with all sorts of odds and ends, as is usual with a family garret."
The girls beamed on her.
"That will be perfectly splendid," cried Mollie. "Remember, Bab, how we
used to rummage in our garret on rainy days?"
"It will be a great fun," answered Bab.
"As we fear we may have to leave the old place," continued Olive, "we
wish to overhaul everything up there, burning such stuff as we have no
use for, saving anything that may be of use in the future. You girls can
help me clear out the place."
"Am I in on this game?" interrupted Tom.
"Yes, if you will behave yourself," replied Olive, giving him a severe
look.
"I can carry out the stuff that you want burned," he suggested.
Such willingness on the part of Tommy was unusual. Olive gave him a
smile of approval.
"You shall have some more marshmallows for that," declared Ruth.
A pained look appeared on the boy's face.
"I don't want any marshmallows," he growled. "No more girls' food for
me."
The "Automobile Girls" giggled. Mr. and Mrs. Presby paid no attention to
this conversation. They were not in possession of the secret. The girls
were eager for the attic party. There is always an element of mystery in
an old family garret. This was especially so at Treasureholme.
Everything about the old place savored of mystery. Then there was the
buried treasure, which, even though it might be a myth, lent an
atmosphere of greater mystery than all the rest.
Little time was lost in getting to the garret, the girls first, however,
putting on the oldest skirts they possessed. Olive explained that the
place was full of dust and cobwebs.
Tom hurried upstairs ahead of them. They followed a winding, narrow
stairway to the upper floor. To their surprise, the ceiling was high,
the side walls were heavily wainscoted, an unusual condition for a
garret. A broad chimney passing up through the centre of the big room
took the edge off the chill atmosphere of the morning, although they
could hear the wind whistle and wail about the gables. There were
shadowy corners holding old-fashioned trunks. Here and there were old
family pictures in faded, chipped frames, old clothes, curtains, books,
broken and old-fashioned furniture, in short, a varied and ancient
collection of odds and ends that almost filled the place.
"Oh, girls, isn't this jolly!" exclaimed Bab, halting at the head of the
stairs, taking in the scene eagerly. "I know we shall have a perfectly
splendid time up here, and who knows but that we may unearth some of
your ancestors' family skeletons, Olive?"
"Tom will dispose of them promptly if you find any," answered Olive.
"I'll make their old bones rattle. You just watch me," announced Tom.
"Now, girls, go ahead and browse to your heart's content. We are going
to empty every trunk and chest and box in the place. We may find
something exciting before we get through up here."
Olive's prophecy was a true one. They were going to meet with exciting
experiences in the old garret, even more exciting than any of them had
dreamed possible. They began eagerly to turn out the contents of trunks
and boxes upon the garret floor, first dragging the receptacles up where
the light from one or another of the windows would shine down on their
work.