The Merriweather Girls and the Mystery of the Queen's Fan

CHAPTER IX
SHIRLEY'S SHOP

Although Kit made every effort to be friendly with Edith Whalen, she had to acknowledge herself beaten. As Merriweather Girls, the four chums felt that they should be able to win her, but Edith refused to notice any advances made by the girls and while she was not aggressively unpleasant, they felt her smoldering dislike.

"We'll just have to give up and let her alone," advised Bet. "If we appear too anxious, she may break out again and do something else. One can never be sure of Edith."

"It does seem a shame," sighed Kit. "I'd truly love to be friends in spite of what she did. I want everybody to like me."

"And she probably would have liked you, too, if you hadn't been a friend of mine. She has always disliked me."

"Well girls, let us console ourselves with some of Auntie Gibbs' fudge. She just made it on purpose for us," cried Joy, dancing into the big entrance hall where Shirley, Bet and Kit were curled up on the divan. Shirley had brought a box of prints that she had promised to show Kit, and today was a rainy Saturday afternoon and just the time to do it.

The Merriweather Girls were having their weekly meeting at the Manor.

A little later Colonel Baxter joined them and demanded the right to be included in the club.

"Here you are having a good time, and I'm out of it."

"But Dad, you can't be a Merriweather Girl, you know that."

"Well I might be Legal Advisor or something of the sort. Give me a fancy title and I'll be happy."

"All right," exclaimed Kit, clapping her hands. "Legal Advisor it is, and we'll ask your advice right this minute on a very important problem. How do you make people like you? Turn hatred into love or something like that?"

"One way is to shut your eyes to the hatred, forget it's there and everything will come out all right in the end."

"And that's that," said Bet. "Dad knows."

"All right Shirley, he's given us his first valuable legal advice. Now he might be permitted to have some fudge and also look at your snapshots. He's getting impatient," pleaded Kit, as she and Bet wandered away into the drawing room and Joy danced out to the kitchen for more fudge.

The Colonel was always interested in the progress Shirley was making in photography. She seemed to have a decided talent for taking pictures. Every print was looked at carefully and praised and sometimes criticized by the Colonel as they talked of the methods of taking, the style of finish and all the other details of the work.

"Some of these days you'll be having a gallery of your own and hanging out your sign." The Colonel smiled and patted the little hand of Shirley. His daughter's chums were very dear to him.

"I'm afraid I'm not clever enough for that. There is a lot to learn about taking pictures. I've always been glad I had some training with Mr. Colby before he retired. You know I just love photography, I could take pictures from morning till night and never be tired."

"What's that one in the envelope over there? You didn't show me that one."

Shirley flushed. "Well that's an experiment. I had the nerve to try an art print. I wanted to see what I could do."

Colonel Baxter gave a low whistle when Shirley held up the print. "Now you have done something, Miss Fixit. That's very good." He held it at arm's length. "I should say it's very good! And these others are fine, too."

"Now you're teasing me. I know you are."

"No of course I'm not teasing. They're lovely. I don't know which I like best, the gulls, or the Palisades and that tree with the river in the background. They are all very pretty."

Shirley had taken six different views and the Colonel now advised her to make some prints of each and he would send them to an art shop in New York where he was acquainted. "We'll fix them up in a narrow gilt frame and they'll make a very nice gift."

"Oh, do you really think so? Why I'll be so proud just to have them exhibited I'll pretty nearly blow up even if I don't sell any at all."

"I've an idea, Shirley. You are always anxious to earn money and do things, why don't you start a shop of your own?"

"You're funny, Colonel Baxter. How would I start a shop? Bet, come here and listen to your father."

"What's he planning now, Shirley," exclaimed Bet as she threw her arm around her father's neck. "Don't oppose my Dad in anything he wants to do. I found that out years and years ago when I was young. Whatever he says, do it."

"But this is impossible!"

"Not if Dad says it's possible," she laughed. "Oh Dad, you are a most wonderful man!"

"And you are a most wonderful daughter, Bet!"

"And here comes old Smiley Jim for his share," exclaimed Bet patting the dog's head. "Yes Smiley Jim, you are a most wonderful dog!"

"It's a wonderful family!" announced Joy with a dance.

"And if no one else believes it, we do!" said the Colonel. "But come now Merriweather Girls, call a council or a pow-wow or what ever you call it! Blow your horn and get the clan together."

"Toot – toot – t-o-o-o-o-o-t!" Joy blew on an imaginary bugle and at that moment Kit came into the room from the kitchen where she had gone to ask Auntie Gibbs a question.

"Auntie Gibbs says – " Kit started to tell something.

But Bet interrupted: "We don't want to hear what Auntie Gibbs says. The Merriweather Girls are in council. Grave matters are about to be discussed. The Legal Advisor is present and all members are called for an immediate consultation."

Kit dropped into a chair laughing. "Proceed!" she announced.

"The Legal Advisor has the chair!" laughed Shirley.

"The question under consideration," began the Colonel, "is one of very great importance. It is that Shirley Williams should open an art and photographic shop right here in Lynnwood!"

"Whoopee!" shouted Kit, swinging her arm around her head as if she were waving a sombrero.

"Why of course," said Bet. "I'm surprised that we didn't think of that ourselves. I move that the shop be opened at once, immediately! Where is it to be?"

"Well I was thinking," said the Colonel.

"But listen. To run a shop a person must have money and must know how to sell things and I don't know how or anything." The prospect was alluring to Shirley, but the difficulties seemed too great.

"She has to go to school," Joy reminded them.

"You leave it to Dad. He's thinking of something, I can see that."'

"Yes, I have a plan and we will want to talk it over with Shirley's mother before we do anything. Now if you girls will keep quiet, I'll tell you my plan."

"Do let us hear it," cried Joy.

"Hurry, Dad, we can't wait! Please don't be so slow, say it right this minute!"

"Suppose you keep quiet long enough for your father to say a word," suggested Kit. "Let the poor man have a chance!"

"What I was trying to say is that I have that little corner store next to old Peter Gruff's place. Supposing I give that to Shirley for a year and let her open a Saturday Shop; that means that it would only be open on Saturdays."

"Dad, you're a wonder! I'm proud of you!"

Colonel Baxter shook his head at his daughter.

"No interruptions!" Then he continued: "With the Christmas season ahead, I'm sure that Shirley could sell plenty of these art prints alone to make it worth while. I'll get her the frames in New York at a wholesale place where I've dealt for years."

"But Colonel, I haven't any money to start things."

Again the man put up his hand for silence. "Now I believe this is going to be a good business proposition for anyone who goes into it, so I am going to back you. It will not take much money. For furnishings for the shop I would refer you to our attic. Auntie Gibbs hates to throw anything away, or give it away for that matter, and you will find chairs and tables and that sort of thing. You girls can decorate the place to suit yourselves. Now what do you think about it? Don't all speak at once."

For a moment no one spoke. The prospect that spread out before them, leading them on into future joys, left the girls quite overcome. Even the lighthearted Joy, who usually had a song or dance for every occasion, was silent and thoughtful.

"It's too good to be true!" laughed Kit. "I can see all sorts of wonderful adventures in Shirley's Shop." Kit's eyes were sparkling as she thought of all the fun ahead.

"And that's a good name for it," cried Bet. "We'll paint a sign for the window:

'SHIRLEY'S SHOP MARVELOUS PICTURES AT A BIG PRICE.'"

"Oh no, Bet, that won't do! That would frighten people away," exclaimed Shirley.

"Well, we'd get rid of the people who want a picture for two cents, anyway."

The Colonel laughed heartily at his young friends. "Miss Fixit has the right idea. You're developing a real business head already."

"Couldn't we go down and look at the shop this afternoon so we could make plans and have something to dream about next week?"

"I think we might. Let's stop in and see if Mrs. Williams won't come with us. We'll need her advice on lots of things." And thus did Colonel Baxter enlist the co-operation of Shirley's mother.

"The possibilities of this place are simply uncountable," cried Bet enthusiastically.

"And say, Shirley, any time you want a little exhibition dancing for your afternoon callers, I'm at your service," and Joy Evans made a few fancy spins on the tips of her toes, in the center of the room.

"Not a bad idea! Keep that in the back of your heads," advised the Colonel. "In fact, never throw an idea away. Keep it in storage where you can bring it out if needed."

The store contained two rooms. The large one in the rear started a plan in Shirley's head. "Wouldn't this make a dandy place for a photographic studio. And here is a lovely big closet which will be a good dark room. And there is running water in that corner. Why everything is complete."

"It's just made to order, Shirley," exclaimed Kit. "Really you are a lucky girl!"

"There you are, young lady! Appointments made every Saturday morning!"

"The first thing to do is to decide on the color scheme for the shop," said Mrs. Williams who was noted as a good manager.

"Let's have plenty of orange. Gold always means success, doesn't it?"

"Maybe so," laughed the woman, enjoying the enthusiasm of the girls. The years seemed to slip away when Shirley brought her friends near.

A large bay window covered almost all the front of the store.

"That's a good show window you have there," observed Colonel Baxter. "Already I can see Shirley's photographs on display?"

"And those blue and gold drapes in the attic will just be fine for a back curtain," suggested Bet.

"That is, if they are not dropping apart from age," replied the Colonel.

"They'll probably do us for a while until we make our fortune."

"Our fortune! Since when do you own the shop, Bet Baxter?" teased Joy. "Is this Shirley and company?"

"Of course not. It's Shirley's. But we're all going to help her to get started," promised Bet.

"What is Shirley's good luck is ours. We're all Merriweather Girls," said Kit quietly.

Shirley was in a happy daze and hardly heard her mother's plans. "You can bring down that large blue rug in your room, Shirley, and I'll put something else in there."

"That's just the thing, it has lots of orange in it," exclaimed Bet.

"And as a name for the shop, I'll suggest 'Fixit's Factory,'" teased Colonel Baxter.

"Oh no! That wouldn't sound nice. I don't like factories." Shirley looked troubled.

"Of course it wouldn't and Daddy knows it, too. He's just a big tease!"

Shirley laughed now with the others. She was inclined to be serious and never quite knew when the Colonel was in fun.

"'Shirley's Shop' sounds much nicer. It's aristocratic!"

Suddenly Kit saw two boys coming down the street and she had the door open in a flash: "Come right in, Bob and Phil. The Merriweather Girls are in council and having decided some very important matters, they want your approval."

"Flattery, you mean! You girls just feed on flattery, and you expect us to supply it like boxes of candy."

"Candy makes me think that we might have homemade candy here. Joy could do that and Kit and I will paint some boxes for it! That's the first idea supplied by the Consulting Advisers, Bob and Phil!"

"And where does the boss come in, and what is left for her to do?" laughed Shirley.

"Oh you are to supply the art. We will do the things that appeal to the common people."

"Say, Colonel, what's the matter with these girls? Are they crazy?"

"Not any more than usual I think."

"Why Daddy Baxter, if you talk like that you just won't be allowed to take part in our plans at all. We'll discharge you as Legal Adviser."

"Oh then I'll be good! I'll be good! I could never stand that."

"So it's secrets and things!" suggested Phil.

"Just the opposite of that! It's something we want you to shout from the house tops."

Bob gave a bound to the seat of an old chair and flapping his arms up and down wildly he crowed, "Cock-a-doodle-doo! Don't know what I'm crowing about, but I'm crowing!"

"And that's what we want you to do. The Merriweather Girls are starting in business!" announced Kit.

"You don't say so!"

"It's to be known as Shirley's Shop!" Kit exclaimed.

"Oh you mean Shirley is going into business. That sounds more sane. Shirley has some sense," laughed Bob.

"Out you go, Bob Evans!" and without giving him time to catch his breath the girls shoved him outside the door.

"When you promise to be good, you may come back, Bob, and not until," threatened Joy.

Finally after many promises to be good, they opened the door and let Bob come in. The boys got a somewhat jumbled account of the business venture of the Merriweather Girls and they approved to such an extent that they rolled up their sleeves and wanted to get to work at once.

"Where's a broom and we'll sweep the place out for you," suggested Phil.

Shirley objected, saying that the following Saturday morning would be time enough, then if they wanted to, the girls would be glad of their help.

"And they'll want flattery before they start the work and flattery after it's done just the way Smiley Jim does," said Kit with a laugh.

"Why Kit Patten!" exclaimed Bob. "And we thought you were our friend!"

"Meow, meow! What a kitten to scratch!" teased Phil.

"Deny it, if you can," said Bet.

Colonel Baxter looked from one young face to the other, enjoying the friendly bickering and feeling happy that he was no dampener to their fun, for they accepted him as one of themselves. Mrs. Williams' hearty laugh urged them on to further efforts at cleverness.

"Wish we had a broom, I'd really like to see this place swept out!" Bet was impatient to see results.

"Why not go over and borrow one from your neighbor, Peter Gruff? He's so friendly he'll give you the shop."

As old Peter Gruff was notoriously stingy, everybody laughed at the joke.

"We'll do better than that," exclaimed Bet. "Come on Kit, let's go over and buy a broom. We'll need it!"

In a few minutes Bet and Kit came running back, each with a large broom.

"And here's where we are supposed to shine!" laughed Phil, as each captured a broom and started right in where they were standing.

"Not that way!" shouted Kit, for a cloud of dust rose about their heads.

"This way!" suggested Shirley and the boys stopped and paid attention to her, as they usually did. "Stand on those old chairs and sweep off the ceilings and walls and in that show window while the brooms are nice and clean; then you can do the floors."

"That tan shade of the walls isn't bad at all. I think we can make that do, don't you, Shirley?" asked Bet.

"Yes. We don't want to do any more than we have to," Shirley answered.

"I don't like those high walls," pouted Bet.

"We'll have them lowered," teased Bob.

"If I may be allowed to suggest, Miss Fixit," said Colonel Baxter, addressing Shirley with great ceremony, "I would say that a band of contrasting color could be painted around the walls just about at the height of your head. That will give the effect of a lower ceiling at once."

"Oh yes, Dad, the way you had it done in your den! And that room always looks so cozy."

"After a while when the shop begins to pay, you could buy burlap and run that around under your border. That would make a backing for displaying your pictures."

Everybody liked that idea.

The girls felt at home in Shirley's Shop even before it was cleaned up. And they closed it reluctantly until Friday afternoon when they were to meet and clean the windows and wood work.

It was hard for the girls to keep their minds on their school work during the next week. Visions of the shop, as it was to look some day, filled their thoughts to the exclusion of history dates and right angle triangles.

Shirley had to be industrious. After her home work was finished she donned her old smock and made her art prints, enough for the gift shop in New York and for her own place as well.

Her mother remonstrated at the late hours, but Shirley said, "Oh Mother, it won't be this way often. And I do want to get started soon."

"It may develop into something worth while," said her mother. "Who knows but this may be the open door that leads to college?"

"Oh, if only it is! How I wish it! I'll be willing to work hard if only I can help you and Dad, and get a good education at the same time."

"The future can always be bright with our hopes and plans for success," replied the mother as she clasped Shirley's hand understandingly.

CHAPTER X
WILLING HELPERS

"Thump, thump, thump!" a thunderous rap at the door of Shirley's shop brought the four girls on the run from the back room, where they had been doing the last of the window cleaning.

"It's Bob and Phil! Good for them!" shouted Bet. "Let them in, you're nearest, Kit!"

The two boys entered the doorway in a very supplicating manner, their hats held humbly in their hands.

"We want work, ladies! Can we get something to eat?" begged Bob without a smile.

"You would, Bob Evans! Thinking of food the first thing!" scolded Joy.

"Been out of a job for two months," added Phil.

"Then I suppose you want something to eat, too?"

"Yes ma'am, I'd like nothing better than a handout."

"You'll earn it first, you lazy things," exclaimed Kit.

"Always taking the joy out of life, isn't she?" Bob pretended to be sad.

"Now what do you boys want to do?" Bet was in her snappiest form, business-like and full of energy. "You can paint that strip around the wall where we've marked it, or you can paint the window, or you can paint chairs or tables. Now just take your choice of work, I don't care what you do, as long as you paint."

"But I wanted to do basketry or clay figures," teased Bob. "Didn't you, Phil?"

"No indeed. I wanted to paint. I'm a noble soul. I'm just dying to paint, in fact I must paint!"

"Then get to work!" cried Kit. "And don't waste so much time! This is our busy day. No parking here!"

"Slave drivers! No hand-out, and not a minute to collect our thoughts!"

"You don't need to worry, Bob, it won't take you that long to collect your thoughts! One second will be enough," retorted Joy.

"And we don't get anything to eat?" asked Phil.

But while the merry nonsense went on the two boys were preparing the paint and getting ready to work. Phil took a step ladder and began on the outside of the store, painting the frame of the window in bright orange.

"There now that stands out, all right," he exclaimed as he finished the job. "You can see that a mile off."

Bob finished the frame on the inside, about the same time and together they started on the broad strip that was marked off around the walls.

"Say lady, it's eleven o'clock. Can't we have that hand-out?" cried Bob Evans.

"Not yet. Why you've only been working an hour!" exclaimed Bet indignantly. "Who ever heard of such a thing!"

"Let's strike!" Phil dropped his paint brush and settled himself in an easy chair. "No hand-out, no more work!"

"That's right!" agreed Bob, capturing another chair.

"Oh you terrible boys! We might as well do it ourselves if we've got to stop every hour and feed you. There's nothing ready yet anyway." Bet frowned on her friends.

But just at that moment Uncle Nat appeared with two very large hampers and Bob and Phil each secured a basket.

"Now who's to say when?" laughed Bob. "Who's boss now, answer me that?"

"We are in the power of two tyrants who won't work!" said Kit dramatically.

"Take that back, Kit Patten, or you'll not get a bite of lunch. Say you're sorry!" teased Phil.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll take it back!" laughed Kit.

"I'll tell you what, boys." It was Shirley's voice from the rear room, where she was cleaning out the big closet for a dark room. "We do want that strip painted before lunch. It won't take you more than ten minutes. While we are fixing up this table and unpacking the baskets, you finish that."

"Right-O, Shirley!" The boys were on their feet instantly and they went to work without another word.

"Oh girls, doesn't it look perfectly wonderful!" exclaimed Bet, coming into the room just as the two boys laid aside their brushes. "Now you shall eat!"

"A crust of bread and a glass of water, I suppose!"

"You suppose nothing of the sort. You know Auntie Gibbs put it up and therefore it has to be good!" exclaimed Kit. "But you boys won't get a bite to eat until you've washed your faces."

"Now we rebel! This is the limit. The worm turns at last. We're going to eat this way." And they did.

Auntie Gibbs had outdone herself on the lunch. There was fried chicken and apple fritters, still piping hot. There was jelly and hot biscuits. The table was loaded.

"Here Kit, open up that box of marshmallows. And put one in each cup of cocoa."

"One! Why you stingy thing. I'll not drink it unless I have three!" exclaimed Bob.

"All right, give the child what he wants!" Bet agreed.

"Auntie Gibbs must have thought we were going to feed all of Lynnwood. Sending down a lunch this size!" laughed Shirley.

"But that's so much better than not having enough. Wait until we've finished it, there won't be much left. I know what kind of an appetite I have, and when Bob gets to work he'll eat about half of what's here."

"Aren't you going to wash that orange streak off your face, Phil?" asked Bet.

"No. It's a beauty mark."

While the young people were making merry over their lunch, the door of the shop opened and shuffling feet were heard outside in the front room.

Bet jumped up excitedly, "Maybe it's a customer! Oh girls!"

"Oh, I hope it isn't!" exclaimed Shirley. "We haven't got anything for sale yet."

"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Gruff," Bet's voice was heard from the back room. "You are our first visitor."

"What you doing here?" Peter asked abruptly.

"Listen to the old grouch," whispered Joy to Shirley. "One would think he owned this store."

"Ssh! Keep quiet, Joy. Let's hear what he's saying."

Bet answered the old man in her sweetest manner. "We're opening an art shop. We'll be your next door neighbor, Mr. Gruff."

"What are you going to sell? Antiques?"

"Not just at present. Perhaps later we may," answered Bet.

"Don't do it. There's no money in antiques! Not a penny. Of course if you want them, I'll be able to get them for you. I go to all the auctions. I went away out to Connecticut the other day to get some old lamps."

"And did you get them? What were they like?" questioned Bet.

"I didn't get them. They went too high. That's the reason I say there's no money in antiques. It used to be one could pick up things for almost nothing."

"Yes people learned to value their old things."

"Are you Colonel Baxter's girl? I thought so! Now there's a man who knows antiques. Can't get ahead of him on a buy. He knows just what a thing should sell for and half the time he can tell me to a penny what I paid for it."

Bet laughed heartily at this, for she remembered her father telling her how old Peter had tried to sell him some candlesticks at an exorbitant price.

"Seein' as it's you, Colonel Baxter," he had said, "You can have this pair of candlesticks for fifteen dollars."

"Too much, Mr. Gruff," the Colonel answered emphatically.

"Ten dollars then, Colonel Baxter. I won't be making a penny on them, not one."

"No, Peter, I'll be going to an auction myself soon, and I can pick up candlesticks anytime."

"Now Colonel Baxter, bein' as it's you, I don't mind losing a little money on those sticks. Ain't they beauties now? You can have the pair of them for seven dollars. Will you take them with you or shall I send them up to the Manor?"

"That's too much, Peter. You know you got those candlesticks thrown in when you bought that highboy and the gate-leg table."

Peter Gruff had been so thunderstruck at the Colonel's correct guess that he had stood open-mouthed, staring, and without a word he had placed the candlesticks on the shelf and began rubbing his hands together in great agitation.

The old furniture dealer was tricky, and Bet wondered now what he was prying around the shop for.

"You won't need that back room, will you? Maybe you'll let me store some things here." He started toward the rear.

"Oh, we are going to use all the rooms. Shirley Williams is going to have a photographic shop in the back room. Maybe you'll want your picture taken when we open for business."

The old man started and a look of fear came into his eyes. "What would I want a picture for?" he snarled, watching Bet anxiously, for the last time that Peter Gruff had been photographed was by the police, and that episode he wished forgotten.

"Come in and have a cup of cocoa with us, Mr. Gruff," invited Shirley.

"Oh yes," insisted Bet. "Here take this chair!" The girls had led him into the back room, where the young people greeted the old man joyously.

He took the proffered cup, accepted sandwiches and a good helping of chicken and didn't stop until he had eaten greedily all that was passed him, smacking his lips at each bite.

Joy and Kit got to laughing at the shocking table manners of the old man and had to leave the room.

When he was finally satisfied he began, "Don't think of handling antiques. No money in them. Once upon a time," the old man started again, "one could buy a wagon load of them for a dollar and sell maybe one old chair for fifty dollars. Then it was worth while to handle antiques. Why many a time I've started out with my wagon full of pots and pans and dishes, and exchanged a new platter that cost me twenty-five cents for a dish that I finally sold for twenty-five dollars."

No one spoke for a moment. They felt shocked at the old man's method of working. But he did not notice and went on.

"All the old farmers' wives wanted things up to date and so they just gave away the old things that had been in the family for a hundred years and got some shiny new stuff."

Joy and Kit interrupted the conversation by exclaiming: "Oh Bet I think that paint is dry enough so we can put the covering in the show window. Come and see!"

And old Peter Gruff rose with the others, after helping himself to three more sandwiches which he put in his pocket.

Bet and Shirley decided to frame some of the prints in the narrow gilt frames that Colonel Baxter had purchased for them. And in a few minutes they had them in the window.

"Let's go outside and see what it looks like!" exclaimed Bet excitedly.

The girls walked up and down in front of the store.

"Let's pretend we're just walking by on our way down town. Would it attract your eye?" asked Shirley, seriously.

"Not exactly attract," laughed Bet. "I should say it hits the eye. You can't pass up that orange window."

The girls placed their window display very carefully, putting only a few prints in so that they would show up.

"What we should have is a pretty vase or a vanity box or something of that sort to put in with these prints."

It looked to the girls as if old Peter had come to stay. As Shirley was going through her prints, he noticed the picture of the queen's fan and became quite excited. "That's an antique, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, it is a fan that belongs to my father," answered Bet, annoyed at the old man for interrupting their work.

"Let's see the fan," he begged, as if the girls had refused.

"We haven't got it here; it belongs to Colonel Baxter," Shirley answered.

But the old man didn't seem to believe them, for he poked his way into every corner of the shop, and in the dark-room he made a careful search, much to the amusement of the girls.

Then he sat down near Shirley and Bet as they framed more art prints.

"Now what's them for?" he asked. "Them pictures of birds?"

"Oh we expect to sell them to someone. Don't you think they're pretty?"

"Maybe," said old Pete. "That is somebody might like them. It's funny what people will buy."

But Peter Gruff was restless. He had hoped to find the fan and as he saw another print he picked it up and studied it carefully.

"Where did Colonel Baxter get the fan?" he asked.

"I don't know," answered Bet. "He has it, that's all I know."

Old Peter arose and once more started in a search of the rooms, unwilling to believe that the fan was not hidden in the shop. Wherever the girls wanted to work they stumbled into him.

At last Kit had an idea. "See this lovely picture, Mr. Gruff. It's only five dollars. Don't you think you'd like to buy it?"

The old man stammered, "No, no!" but Kit interrupted:

"And even if you don't want it for yourself, it would make a splendid Christmas present for some of your friends."

"Pay five dollars for a picture! Why there ain't a soul in the world that I care five dollars for!"

Peter Gruff left in a hurry. "Five dollars for one little picture!" he muttered to himself. "And such a skimpy frame. Why it's not worth fifty cents. Such prices! Such robbery!" The old man disappeared into the depths of his musty shop muttering:

"Just because I went in to see what they were up to and ate a little morsel of their lunch, they thought I was going to buy one of their pictures for five dollars! – And me with my shop full of the finest colored pictures, handpainted too!" And in his excitement he actually dusted off the top of a table.

"That was a mean trick, Kit Patten, to scare the poor fellow like that. How would you like it?" exclaimed Bob Evans with a serious face.

"Well I tried to be polite at first. I told him it was our busy day and he didn't pay any attention. And he wouldn't move: just kept on talking."