Help for Holly
Farringdon was a much larger town than Roulsville. Actually, it was a
small city and the county seat of a hilly county in northern
Pennsylvania. The courthouse, tall and imposing with its clock tower,
stood at the corner of Main and Grove streets. Just opposite was the
office of the _Farringdon Daily Herald_ where Judy’s brother Horace
worked as a reporter. Farther up Grove Street was Dr. Bolton’s combined
home and office.
“Which way shall we turn?” Judy asked when they came to the corner.
Holly shook her head. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Maybe my typewriter
wasn’t stolen after all.”
“_What?_” Judy was so surprised that she nearly hit the curb as they
turned the corner. “If we aren’t following a typewriter thief, then what
are we doing in Farringdon?”
“We are—I mean we were following that green car, and I think my
typewriter is in it. It’s just that I—I mean I haven’t told you
everything.”
“I should say you haven’t,” Judy agreed. “Maybe Horace would help us for
the sake of the story.”
“I’d be glad to have his help,” declared Holly almost too
enthusiastically. “There he is now, walking down Grove Street. Oh dear!
Is that Honey with him?”
“It usually is,” replied Judy. “They’re practically engaged, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know. Good things happen to everyone but me,” was Holly’s
doleful comment. “I’ll probably be an old maid and live all alone
without even a cat for company.”
“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Judy hailed her brother. He and Peter’s
sister came over to the side of the car.
“Holly thinks her typewriter was stolen,” Judy explained. “On top of all
the other trouble she’s had, this was just too much. Have you seen a
green car?”
“Several of them,” replied Horace. “They’re quite common, or haven’t you
noticed? Come to think of it, a green car did roar up Main Street about
ten minutes ago. The driver was a boy of about sixteen. Dark hair,
striped T-shirt—”
“He’s the one,” Holly interrupted. “Do you think we can still overtake
him?”
“We can try,” replied Judy, “but I’m not making any rash promises.
Didn’t you just tell me you’re not sure he is the thief? You didn’t
actually see him take your typewriter, did you?”
“No, but I did see him running toward that green car, and when I turned
around my desk top was empty. Ruth said maybe Doris took it. You know
the way sisters are, always borrowing things without asking. But I don’t
believe it. Doris knows I need my typewriter. Please drive on, Judy,”
Holly pleaded. “We can’t let that boy get away with it.”
“I’m afraid he did get away with it,” Horace told her. “If he did take
your typewriter, he must be half-way to Ulysses with it by now.”
“That’s the town where we turned off when we visited the Jewell
sisters,” Honey put in, “on our secret quest, didn’t we, Judy?”
“I heard about that. You two girls have all the fun,” Holly complained.
“Fun!” Judy echoed, remembering how frightened she and Honey had been.
“If that’s fun—” She shivered, and her voice trailed off into thoughts
of their latest mystery.
“We were drenched to the skin and that criminal, Joe Mott, was after us.
I’m glad he’s back in prison. I can’t understand it, though,” Honey
continued in a puzzled voice. “Aldin Launt, that artist who works at the
Dean Studios, was never picked up. He works right near me, and every
time he passes my desk I get the shivers. I thought Peter was going to
arrest him.”
“So did I,” agreed Judy, “but maybe he’s being watched in the hope he
will lead the FBI to the rest of the gang. Peter’s work is so secret
that half the time he can’t even discuss it with me.”
“Please don’t discuss it now,” implored Holly. “If we’re going to follow
that green car—”
“You’ll never catch him,” Horace predicted, “and how would you get your
typewriter back if you did? A couple of girls couldn’t handle a thief,
especially if he’s got a gun on him. I don’t suppose you can make a
federal case out of it, but couldn’t you report it to the local police?
I’ll call them right now if you say the word.”
“What do you think, Judy?” Holly asked.
“I’d do it if I were you, Holly,” she advised.
“Okay, then,” Horace said with a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “Just give
me all the details. Then we’ll relax and let the police handle it. Honey
and I were on our way to lunch. How about joining us?”
Judy looked up at the courthouse clock. “Oh dear! The morning’s gone. I
didn’t think it was lunchtime already. I am hungry. Aren’t you, Holly?”
The younger girl insisted that she couldn’t eat a thing, but once they
were inside the restaurant she changed her mind. “I guess I could eat a
hamburger,” she conceded.
While Horace went to telephone, the three girls ordered lunch. Holly was
still jumpy. She kept tossing her mane of thick brown hair like a
restless colt. She wore it perfectly straight in a long pony tail.
Judy’s red curls were cut a little shorter than usual, but Honey had let
her lovely honey-colored hair grow long to please Horace. Today she wore
it loose about her shoulders.
The three girls were very different in appearance, but they had one
thing in common. All three of them adored Judy’s brother, Horace Bolton.
He was a shy-appearing young man. To look at him, no one would suspect
that he had once startled the town of Roulsville out of its complacency
by racing through the streets on Judy’s ginger colt and crying out, “The
dam is breaking! Run for the hills.”
Thinking back, Judy realized that since Horace had become a hero, he had
changed. There wasn’t a note of timidity in his voice as he talked with
the police officer who later came in and quietly seated himself at their
table. It was Holly who was frightened. “I—I didn’t think they’d send a
policeman,” were her first words. “I can’t be sure of anything. Maybe
it’s all a big mistake.”
“We’ll take that chance,” the officer replied, smiling as he wrote out
his report.
“Tell you what, Judy,” Horace suggested as they were leaving the
restaurant. “Why don’t you and Holly drive on a ways? Maybe you’ll see
that green car parked somewhere along the road. I’ll finish up a little
job I’m doing and tell Mr. Lee this looks like a story. He’ll give me
the afternoon off to follow it up.”
“What about you, Honey? Do you have to go back to work?” asked Judy.
“Oh, I guess Mr. Dean would give me the afternoon off if I asked him. I
can’t do any work with all that hammering going on anyway. Where shall
we meet you?” Honey asked.
“At the beaver dam!” exclaimed Judy, suddenly enthusiastic. “Remember,
Honey? Violetta said she’d show it to us. I have my camera in the car.
Maybe we could take pictures of the beavers.”
“It’s a date! Violetta is the younger of the two Jewell sisters,” Honey
explained to Holly, “though neither of them is young. They’re such
dears! They live in one of the oldest houses in this section of
Pennsylvania. It’s like stepping back in time just to visit them.”
“I’ll ask them if they have anything for the library exhibit. I have the
job of choosing the displays for those new cases in the Roulsville
library,” Judy explained. “All right, Horace, we’ll see you and Honey at
the beaver dam.”