After the rescue of Ravelings, Dorothy hurried back to the hall. As she was met at the door by Tavia and Edna she was too excited and exhausted to proffer any information. In fact she considered it was due the girls that they look around, and hunt up things on their own account. Why should she be their mediator? They should learn a lesson, and it might be just as well to learn it at this time. “Where on earth have you been? Crawling through a knot hole?” asked Tavia, noting Dorothy’s disheveled appearance. “No, I crawled under a knot hole,” she replied, going toward the door. “But what did you tell Jake? You are not going away that way—leaving us in suspense; are you?” asked Edna. “Oh, if you want to see the dog you can just go up to the stables,” replied Dorothy easily. “Jake is giving him his bath.” “No, I am telling no fib. I have just left Ravelings in Jake’s arms!” The two girls were dumbfounded. Dorothy really meant what she was saying, and however could that dog have been found? Edna looked at Tavia, and Tavia glared at Edna. “And,” gasped Tavia, “the five dollars are all spent! Do you suppose the lady with the sticked-glasses will come up to the hall? Ned, we had better flee!” “I can’t believe it, and I’m afraid to go up to find out,” said Edna. “Dorothy, please tell us about it, or we shall die of—a new disease. We might call it rabies junior.” “I can’t tell you anything more,” insisted Dorothy, “but I am sure Jake would be glad to tell you all about it,” this last with a meaning not to be misunderstood. So Dorothy left them, and proceeded to get ready for her school day. “What!” asked Edna, all but speechless. “Which?” gasped Tavia, the one word taking all her breath. “Could we go up, and peek through the hole in the fence?” “We could, but it would be very unwise from my view point,” answered the other. “A better “I don’t feel as if I could live all day, and not know,” Edna insisted. “Couldn’t we bribe someone else to go up? Dick is safe.” “No one is safe with such a secret,” objected Tavia, “though Dick is nearest to it, she loves news, and just fancy that story getting out. Talk about a Gleaner story! This would get in the big city papers. But, though I am a good guesser, I cannot guess how the dog got back. Of course Dorothy had to do with it. I shouldn’t wonder if she went down to the post-office, laid in wait for our benefactress, and told her Jake was dying, and wanted to see the animal just once more. Something like that, you will find.” “Well, we have got to get to business,” said Edna with a sigh. “Jean beat me in algebra yesterday, and I can’t let it happen again. By the way, I wonder where she gets all her money?” “A rich uncle. I heard her tell of him. I don’t believe her own folks are any better off than mine, and land knows where we would have been, if my foreign grandmother did not die, and make it a point to find out where we were before doing so. I cannot never thank her enough,” and Tavia looked heavenward. “Jean is certainly well off with small change,” “And doesn’t she hate Dorothy? I can’t see why, unless it is she sees herself in the mirror of Dorothy’s goodness. There! Wasn’t that lovely? And from me! I hate to see Jean toting that baby Zada around. She is so innocent she would do anything Jean might suggest—when Jean would be too cute to do it herself. She keeps fixing her up with sweets all the time, and Zada thinks she loves her.” “And Cecilia Reynolds is another who would not cry if anything unpleasant should happen to Dorothy. Well, we have got to keep our team close, and stick together,” declared Edna, “and I do hope this dog business will not spoil us again.” “‘Let sleeping dogs lie,’” quoted Tavia. “And, speaking of dogs, there come the Jean set now. They have been to the woods, ostensibly, but really have been down to the lunch cart. Jean never could get along till noon on a Glen breakfast.” “Did you see her white tennis suit?” asked Edna. “Isn’t it a startler? She’s going to wear it at the match. That’s like her. I suppose she will not even have a ‘G’ on her arm. Well, “Oh, we’re not afraid of them at tennis,” replied Tavia. “They might do us at the lunch cart, but tennis? Never!” A few hours later even the returned dog was forgotten in the depths of school work. Dorothy kept her eyes on her books more intently than was necessary, for in doing so she avoided the glances that Tavia was covertly turning on her. She was determined that the two culprits should make their own discoveries, and she was quite correct in her ideas of what Jake would say if they (the girls) happened around the stable again while he was on duty. The morning went quickly, and at lunch hour Cologne tried to rally the Glen forces to prepare for the tennis match. There would be visitors, and as it was the first big match of the season every one was interested. Some of the new girls proved excellent players, and there was considerable rivalry in the “pick.” The short session of afternoon study was hardly given the attention that the teachers wanted, for the girls were anxious to get out to practice. But Dorothy did not seem inclined to take her place. Tavia, always anxious to know her friend’s troubles, asked if there had been any news from home. “No sickness? Nothing really serious?” again questioned Tavia. “Serious it may be, but fortunately not sickness. The girls will have such a time to-day at the practice, making arrangements (most of which will be the others made over), I thought we could get off. You know I don’t like to walk through the woods alone.” “But the trouble?” “Joe—has gone to work,” replied Dorothy choking. “Perhaps he wanted to?” “Oh, no; I know it is that trouble,” and she sighed deeply. “I have written to say that I—shall——” “You shall not. It is much easier for a boy to go in an office, even in an emergency, than for you to leave this year,” declared Tavia. “Could I see your letter?” “Of course,” and Dorothy took a slip of paper from her pocket. “Of course you know dad. He would not tell me more than he had to.” Tavia glanced over the note. “Why,” she exclaimed, “that’s nothing. Joe had a good chance to get in the bank, and he wanted to try it. I can’t see the need of you taking that so seriously.” “Yes, you might pose as a beauty. I believe there is a great demand for the sylph,” Tavia said facetiously. Dorothy did not reply. She stood there in her pretty white linen dress, with her unruly hair getting into ringlets in spite of the braids that tried to restrain it. “Don’t mail your letter,” begged Tavia. “Come over to the court. I expect trouble between Cologne and Cecilia, and if there is anyone in a scrap, I would hate to miss it.” “All right, you run along. I’ll join you later,” Dorothy conceded, and Tavia left her. “She may be right,” thought Dorothy, “but I must tell the folks that I am willing to do all I can. I have to mail the letter.” The girls on the tennis court were all too busy to notice her as she walked out of the grounds, and made her way to the post-office. Through the woods, she was so occupied with the thoughts of home, that she reached the office before she realized the lonely part of her walk had been covered. At the window, waiting for stamps were a number of persons, and taking her place Dorothy looked about at the written notices, such as usually One, written differently from the others, attracted her. It was this:
Dorothy read in wonderment! That was surely Ravelings! And Jake would get that reward! She dropped her letter in the box, and hurried away never stopping to speak to the girls, who were now well on in their tennis game, but going straight up to the stables to tell Jake. “One hundred dollars!” he gasped. “If I get that miss, I’ll go halves with you, for it was you who found him.” “Oh, I don’t want any share,” said Dorothy. “But you had better take the dog right down to the post-office, for as soon as people read of that reward they will fetch all sorts of dogs to make claims. Likely the woman will come to enquire just about mail time.” Jake was a man of few words, and he turned Dorothy called “good luck,” as she left him, and said she hoped her news would not be disappointing. But even the excitement of this did not cause her to forget her worries of home, and when Tavia came in from the tennis court, she found Dorothy sitting dejectedly in her room. “I knew there would be trouble,” cried Tavia. “Dick and Cecilia almost came to blows. Sissy declared the ball had not bounded, and every one could see that it had, and it was our score——” She stopped suddenly. Edna was calling her. “I have to go I suppose,” she said finally. “Dear me. I am all ashake,” and without any further explanation she ran off again. A half hour later she returned, with a very broad smile on her flushed face. “Dorothy Dale!” she exclaimed. “How ever could you have played such a trick on us. There is no more white dog in the barn than there is in this room!” “Isn’t there?” asked Dorothy, realizing that Jake had taken Ravelings off before the girls had a chance to see him. “Then he must have been spirited away. That dog has had a great time of it.” “Spirited away, indeed!” said Tavia indignantly. “Mistake,” finished Dorothy for her. “Well, then you feel better I suppose,” and she determined not to tell the story of the dog’s second return to its owner. It was too good a joke to spoil now. “Well, at any rate, I’ll sleep to-night,” Tavia went on. “I have been expecting to go to jail for that five dollars.” “And you won’t be afraid to go to the post-office?” Dorothy asked. “I am glad of that, for I hate to go alone.” “And I’m going to the Gleaner office first chance I get, and see if I can’t clear up the picture mystery. I have a faint suspicion, now, how that got off my dresser. But don’t ask me about it, for it is the very merest suspicion.” “Just as you like, but I would love to know,” Dorothy said. “If I go away——” “You are not going away! I’d do the whole of Glenwood darning to save you that.” “Thank you, my dear,” Dorothy said, “but I am afraid I will have to do your darning. I noticed quite a bunch of something very like stockings in your bag.” “Say, Doro, you have got to cheer up. Really, everything in the club is going to pieces, and Cologne “Oh, I’ll do all I can,” Dorothy agreed, “but don’t ask me just yet.” “And Jean Faval is flaunting around, as if she owned the earth and Mars. Even some of her own friends are getting too much of it. Zada won’t look at her.” “Poor little Zada! She is such a baby. I have noticed her eyes very red, lately,” Dorothy remarked. “Yes, but I don’t believe it’s homesickness altogether,” Tavia said. “I think it’s something on her mind.” “What could she be worrying about?” Dorothy questioned. “Why don’t you ask her? She thinks a lot of you,” suggested Tavia. “I will,” replied the other, “the first chance I get. Mrs. Pangborn wants her to be happy. She’s a friend of her family’s, you know.” Tavia pulled out her dresser drawer in search of something, and there dropped to the floor a torn envelope. She picked it up quickly. “There!” she exclaimed, “that’s the piece of paper I lost the day my picture went. Do you want to see it?” handing it to Dorothy. “The Marsall Investment Company!” Dorothy “That’s the company your father has his money in; isn’t it?” Tavia questioned. “Yes,” Dorothy replied, her eyes still on the envelope. “Well, my dear I found that in the memorable box of poisoned chocolates, that Jean Faval wasted her hair tonic on the day we arrived,” Tavia said. |