ORRESTER
 
 " .
 
 "TOOK A FLEETING LOOK AT HERSELF IN THE LITTLE 
 CRACKED MIRROR"
 
 Rook's Nest 
 
 BY 
 
 1ZOLA L. FORRESTER 
 
 Author of " The Girls of Bonnie Castle," etc. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO 
 
 103-105 SOUTH FIFTEENTH STREET
 
 Copyright, 1901, by 
 GEORGE W. JACOBS & Co
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. A COUNCIL OF STATE .... 
 
 II. THE PKINCESS COMES TO HEK OWN . 
 
 III. TIUNCES IN DISGUISE .... 
 
 IV. THE PALACE OF A THOUSAND DELIGHTS 
 V. THE CIKCUS QUEEN 
 
 VI. DAY 1 M: i ,.\ MS AND AIR CASTLES . 
 
 VII. THE BLACK PIRATE SAILS 
 
 VIII. BREAD AND BERRIES .... 
 
 IX. BILLIE MANAGES THINGS 
 
 X. THE LION'S CAVE 
 
 XI. ALL HALLOWS' EVE .... 
 
 XII. Avis TRIES HEB WINGS 
 
 XIII. A GUEST FROM BOSTON .... 
 
 XIV. BETTY MORGAN, EDITOR 
 
 XV. LETTERS 
 
 XVI. THE THRESHOLD OF FAME . 
 
 XVII. THE CELLAR SPOOK 
 
 XVIII. IN THE FOURTH FLOOR BACK 
 
 XIX. THE PRINCESS' TREASURE 
 
 XX. BETTY ENTERS THE ARENA . 
 
 XXI. KED ROVER TO THE RESCUE . 
 
 XXII. THE BIRDS FLY HOME 
 
 XXIII. FAIRY TALES COME TRUE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 . 7 
 
 20 
 
 . 37 
 58 
 
 . 69 
 
 89 
 
 . 109 
 
 124 
 . 133 
 
 151 
 . 170 
 
 187 
 . 205 
 
 214 
 . 224 
 
 228 
 . 240 
 
 252 
 . 267 
 
 280 
 . 291 
 
 307 
 . 318 
 
 21 29993
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 TOOK A FLEETING LOOK AT HERSELF IN THE 
 
 LITTLE CRACKED MIRROR .... Frontispiece 
 "THE UNICORN WOULDN'T RUN IF YOU SHOT 
 
 OFF FIREWORKS UNDER HIM." . . . Page 81 
 
 THE FRIGHTENED RUNAWAYS . . . . " 164 
 THE PRECIOUS MANUSCRIPT LAY BESIDE HER. " 216 
 HER HEAD ERECT, HER AIR RESOLUTE AND 
 
 DEFIANT " 298
 
 Rook's Nest 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A Council of State 
 
 THERE was no doubt about it ; the crisis had 
 coine. 
 
 Avis caught the solemn gaze of Muggins' brown 
 eyes fixed on her, all during dinner-time, and she 
 knew that the moment had arrived when some one 
 must speak. 
 
 "Girls and Billie," Muggins began, when Molly 
 had left the room, " I want you all to come to the 
 schoolroom after dinner. We have got to face 
 the future." 
 
 This unwonted dignity from Muggins sent a 
 thrill of excitement around the dinner-table, and a 
 dead silence reigned until the time came when 
 they trooped after her to hold the council for 
 the future in the schoolroom. 
 
 They had always called it the schoolroom, be- 
 cause, as Billie said, it was the very last thing in 
 
 7
 
 8 Rook's Nset 
 
 the world it ought to have been called. This rule 
 of nomenclature applied splendidly in the house 
 of Randall, from Muggins down to the Roaring 
 Lion, who, by every law of reason, not to mention 
 baptism, should have been dubbed plain Marjorie 
 and Reginald. But then it made it so much more 
 interesting to mix things up, they all agreed ; so 
 the schoolroom it had been, just because it was a 
 place where discipline was unknown, where each 
 had a pet corner of his own in which he could do 
 exactly as he pleased. 
 
 The broad bay window with its row of flower- 
 pots and hanging vines was Muggins', and she 
 fostered all kinds of growing things there, from 
 prize beauties to little straggly plants, precious 
 only because they were green and alive, and re- 
 paid her care. 
 
 A wondrous paradise was this window wilder- 
 ness to the two canaries, Hop Sing and Cripple, 
 a paradise of sunshine, and a happy hunting- 
 ground of insect tidbits in which their greedy 
 little hearts delighted. Even they could do just 
 as they pleased, too, and Billie said that was the 
 whole secret of happiness. " Every one does as he 
 pleases, so long as it doesn't hurt the next fellow's 
 fun, and if you can help the next fellow to have 
 more fun, why, go ahead and help like sixty.' 
 
 Behind the Japanese screen with its fire-spout-
 
 A Council of State 9 
 
 in^ r dragons, and slant-eyed, waddling ladies, 
 Billie kept a host of treasures. Only the Lamb 
 knew positively all its secrets, and she never told. 
 
 One day after infinite labor and danger, not 
 only to his own precious anatomy, but also to the 
 Owl's back, the Bearing Lion had valorously 
 climlxnl to the top of the screen and stolen a peep 
 at the hidden chamber ; but all he saw was " bugth 
 on pinth," as he told the Owl, scornfully, which 
 opinion simply goes to prove that the only ap- 
 preciative mind in the whole menagerie was the 
 Lamb's. 
 
 Then the piano and the low, stout, bookcase, and 
 the rosewood desk that had been her mother's, 
 belonged to Avis ; " her royal highness," Billie 
 called her, because, he said, " she puts on airs." 
 The corner which held these articles was the only 
 place of unquestioned ownership in the whole 
 schoolroom, for the menagerie held firmly to the 
 doctrine of squatter rights and spread their goods 
 and chattels about with a serene disregard for law 
 and order. 
 
 The spring sunlight shone cheerily into the 
 long room and touched Muggins' brown hair to a 
 ruddy bronze as she stood beside the piano, look- 
 ing slim and girlish in her black dress, in spite of 
 her seventeen years. 
 
 Avis, but a year younger, had crossed to the
 
 io Rook's Nest 
 
 window and was looking dreamily out, her nose 
 pressed against the pane, her fair hair falling be- 
 low her waist in two long braids, her hand resting 
 on the back of the willow rocking-chair. 
 
 The children knew of what she was thinking, 
 and their faces were very sober. The willow 
 chair had always been the favorite seat of the dear 
 mother who had left them but recently, and some 
 way her presence was so closely associated with 
 it that now it lent a strength to the conference as 
 if she herself were smiling on them as of old. 
 
 Billie was sitting cross-legged on the floor, 
 looking like a round-faced, jolly Chinese idol, 
 with the menagerie grouped around as attendant 
 cherubs. 
 
 Dora was the Lamb, and if ever there was a 
 cub wolf dancing about in the fleece of an inno- 
 cent lambkin, it was this same freckled, brown 
 eyed rogue of eleven. She was a second edition 
 of Billie and his trusted confidant. He declared 
 that she was " an out and out brick,'* which was the 
 highest meed of praise he ever bestowed. Only 
 three had ever been deemed worthy to bear it, his 
 mother, Muggins, and the Lamb. The rest of the 
 world, without respect to persons, was classed as 
 "duffers," and that meant more than words can 
 tell to Billie. 
 
 The Owl was Winifred, aged nine, and the look
 
 A Council of State n 
 
 in her solemn hazel eyes seemed to tell of a secret 
 wisdom beyond mortal ken. She was a very gen- 
 tle, dignified little maid, full of dreams and fancies 
 like Avis, and a deep tender love for fairies and 
 beautiful forlorn princesses, and splendid knights 
 \\lio wore coal-black plumes and killed grittius 
 and various other monsters, rescued the beautiful 
 princesses, and made them less forlorn. Wini- 
 fred's world was a wonderful world of make be- 
 lieve that never failed her, and her faithful admirer 
 was the Roaring Lion. 
 
 It is hard to tell just how the six-year-old Lion 
 looked. He w r as blue-eyed, and shy, with yellow 
 curls and the softest, gentlest voice in the world, 
 a voice that might have come from Hop Sing or 
 Cripple if one of them had suddenly tried to talk ; 
 but Billie had named him the Roaring Lion, and 
 he bore the title without a murmur. 
 
 Muggins looked at Billie when she spoke, for 
 he, though not yet fourteen, was the man of the 
 house now, and must be impressed with the grav- 
 ity of the situation. 
 
 "It seems queer for us to have to bother our- 
 selves about such a thing as money," she said, 
 hesitatingly, "but matters have come to a point 
 now where we must face the question boldly, and 
 do something." 
 
 She paused. Billie nodded his head encourag-
 
 12 Rook's Nest 
 
 ingly. So did the Lamb, and feeling that she had 
 sympathetic support, Muggins went on bravely. 
 
 " Of course, you all know that we are pretty 
 poor, now. The money that papa left melted away 
 after he died, and when mamma was taken sick 
 last fall she had to mortgage the house. We have 
 been living on the last of that money for six weeks, 
 ever since mamma went away from us, and now, 
 here we are. I have about ten dollars left, and 
 there is Molly to pay, gas bills, coal bills, grocer 
 bills, butcher bills, the interest due on the mort- 
 gage "- 
 
 " Oh, Marjorie, don't ! " exclaimed Avis, in dis- 
 tress, " don't worry them with such things." 
 
 " That's all right, your royal highness," Billie 
 broke in, with a wave of his hand in her direc- 
 tion. "This is a council of state, not just for 
 you two prime ministers. Fire ahead, Muggins. 
 And when the ten dollars are gone you'll have to 
 play Old Mother Hubbard, 
 
 Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard, 
 
 To get her poor dog a bone ; 
 But when she got there the cupboard was bare, 
 
 And so the poor dog had none ! ' " 
 
 " Don't be funny over it, Billie, please," pleaded 
 Muggins. "We are really in serious trouble. 
 Here are six of us, and we simply cannot go on
 
 A Council of State 13 
 
 living as we have been doing. There isn't a soul 
 in the world of whom we can ask help." 
 
 " There are mamma's folks," Dora said, impetu- 
 ously, " I thought they were all so rich." 
 
 Avis and Marjorie exchanged quick glances. 
 
 " Well, so they are," Avis responded ; " but you 
 know how angry they were about mamma's marry- 
 ing a poor man like papa, because they didn't 
 know how clever he was, of course. After 
 Grandma Newell died, none of them ever wrote 
 to her, and if they could be so cruel to her, why, 
 we must show them that the Randalls are too 
 proud to ask help from them ! " 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried Billie. " Hoist your flags, Ran- 
 dalls, and keep step to the music." 
 
 " And as for papa's people," Avis went on, ig- 
 noring his nonsense, "they are all down in Dela- 
 ware or Maryland, I forget which, and we don't 
 know anything about any of them except Uncle 
 Cherrington Randall, and he's dead now. So here 
 we are alone." 
 
 There was a long silence. The Lion's mouth 
 quivered, and the Owl stifled the coming roar 
 in her hasty embrace. Avis' blonde head was 
 bent over the rocker, and her tears fell fast on 
 the faded blue silk head-rest. Billie looked at 
 Muggins, his head on one side like an anxious 
 canary.
 
 14 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Out with it," he said, finally. " What's your 
 scheme, Marjorie Cherrington Randall ? " 
 
 " That's just the key to the whole secret," cried 
 Muggins, eagerly. "It's about Uncle Cherring- 
 ton. You know part of it, anyway, Billie. Don't 
 you remember, nearly five years ago, papa had a 
 letter from uncle ? And papa told us that he was ^/ 
 the queerest old bookworm, and cross as a bear yr 
 but he was my fairy godfather, I guess, for he 
 wanted to adopt me, and take me way out to 
 Montana or some outlandish place with him. I was 
 only twelve then, and, of course, mamma would not 
 let me go. So he went alone, and died out there." 
 
 " I know," Billie said, sagely, " and we thought 
 the jolly old duffer was rich, and he never left us 
 a red cent." 
 
 "Yes, but still he made me his heiress," went 
 on Muggins, earnestly. " It sounds very nice and 
 important, but all in the world he left was a little 
 place down in Illinois. Papa went to see it, and 
 said it was just a few acres of land with a tiny, 
 rattletibang sort of house about large enough for 
 a rook's nest and only fit for spiders and mice. 
 But, anyway, whatever it is, it's our very own, and 
 the only thing I know for us to do is to go down 
 to my kingdom. When papa died, he made Mr. 
 Ellis, his lawyer, our guardian, and he says it will 
 be the best thing for all of us."
 
 A Council of State 15 
 
 "Just so," cried Billie, "Hurrah for Princess 
 Muggins and the halls of her ancestors. Is there 
 any tiling to eat down there, princess ? " 
 
 Muggins laughed. 
 
 " I'm afraid not," she said, with a glance at Avis' 
 bowed head. " We shall have to become farmers." 
 
 " Oh, but Muggins," interposed Dora, anxiously, 
 " what can we do with all the furniture in such a 
 funny little place, and where shall we put Molly ? " 
 
 " We shall have to do with them what Aladdin 
 did with the treasures he couldn't carry away," an- 
 swered Muggins, cheerfully. " Leave them behind." 
 
 " Oh, why ? " cried a chorus of dismay. 
 
 " Because ! " she said firmly, and whenever she 
 said that word, so deep and mysterious in conjec- 
 ture, the children knew that argument was hope- 
 less. This time, however, Avis came to the rescue. 
 
 " Everything will be sold," she explained, " ex- 
 cept some of mamma's things, like her desk, and 
 this chair, and Molly must go because we cannot 
 pay her. Now, do you understand ? " 
 
 Billie nodded, and the heads of the menagerie 
 bobbed in concert. 
 
 "Do say something, Billie," exclaimed Avis. 
 "You are the man of the house, and you must try 
 to 1>t s"iisible and helpful. Muggins and I can't 
 do it all." 
 
 Billie's round face look* d solemn and anxious
 
 1 6 Rook's Nest 
 
 as he rose slowly, and stood with his hands 
 clasped behind him ; but there was a twinkle of 
 fun in his blue eyes. 
 
 " I think the plan is all right," he said, gravely. 
 "We can harness Reggie to the plow with the 
 Owl, and put her royal highness in overalls to 
 look after the crops, and Muggins can be chief 
 cook and bottle washer. Dora and I will attend 
 to the cows for you, and make the butter. We 
 will raise peanuts and mince-meat " 
 
 "Minth-meat don't gwow, Bil-lee," put in the 
 Lion, rebukingly. 
 
 " Pardon, f olkses. I take that back. You can 
 settle the character of our crops yourself, Avis. 
 There is only one thing I want to know. Please 
 may I keep my bug collection, or do they go with 
 the rest of the valuables ? " 
 
 " Well, all I have to say," Marjorie answered, 
 severely, "is this. If you're going to take this 
 matter as a joke, Master William, you'll find your- 
 self greatly mistaken. Avis and I have talked and 
 talked together about it, night after night, wh m 
 you children were in bed, and we have fixed every- 
 thing. Mr. Bonner is coming to-morrow " 
 
 " Who's Mr. Bonner ? " asked Dora, abruptly. 
 
 " He's a a ," Muggins floundered, helplessly, 
 and looked at Avis, who responded to the silent 
 appeal bravely.
 
 A Council of State 17 
 
 "Why, Mr. Bonner is & man who looks after 
 furniture and things, you know " 
 
 "No, ma'am, we don't know," replied Billie, 
 firmly. "That's what burglars do. As man of 
 the house I want to know exactly who Mr. Bonner 
 is." 
 
 " Well, then," answered Muggins, " he buys sec- 
 ond-hand furniture and pictures and pianos for 
 some large company. It's all right, Billie. Mr. 
 Ellis told us to go to him, and you know how 
 mamma trusted Mr. Ellis. This is Monday ; by 
 Thursday we can be all packed up, and on Friday 
 we will go to East Elmore on the 1.25 train, get 
 there at 4.40, and be at the Nest in time for supper. 
 What do you think of the plan ? " she concluded, 
 triumphantly. 
 
 " I think that your old council was a humbug," 
 cried Billie, rising in his wrathful indignation. 
 "You two had the whole arrangement cut and 
 dried between you, and only wanted to show off 
 what a smart pair of prime ministers you are. 
 Now, you can go right ahead. I wash my hands 
 of the whole affair." 
 
 " And so do I," echoed Dora. 
 
 " And I," chimed in Winifred. 
 
 "Me too," said the Lion. 
 
 " You hear the voice of the people ? Very well. 
 You can leave us entirely out of all your hididdle
 
 1 8 Rook's Nest 
 
 plans. Go on with your Bonners and trains, and 
 packing. Only, when you do reach your old 
 Hook's Nest, have supper for six, please. We 
 won't be out of that, will we, polliwogs ? " 
 
 " No, sirree ! " came a fervent chorus, and the 
 whole menagerie formed in line, Reggie leading, 
 with Winnie's hands on his shoulders, Dora's on 
 Winnie's, and Billie's on Dora's. Then wheeling 
 about, they made a spirited circuit of flie room, 
 and marched out with colors flying. 
 
 The girls watched them in silence, Avis with an 
 anxious frown, Muggins with smiling lips and 
 tearful eyes. When the door had closed on 
 Billie's rosy face and merry eyes, Avis sat down, 
 and laid her head on her arms. 
 
 " Oh, don't, don't, Avis," said Marjorie, her face 
 pressed closely to the other's fair hair. " It 
 makes it so hard for me if you give up, dear. 
 Everything will come all right, I know it will, 
 only we must brace up, as Billie says, and be 
 strong and hopeful for their sakes." 
 
 " Yes, I know, I know it all," replied Avis, 
 wearily, raising a moist, flushed face, and pushing 
 back her hair from her forehead. " But when I 
 think of how dearly mamma loved the little ones, 
 and of what a life we are taking them to, it nearly 
 breaks my heart." 
 
 " But |it is the only way," Muggins said, slip-
 
 A Council of State 19 
 
 ping her arm lovingly around her sister's neck. 
 "We can only do our level best, and Mr. Ellis 
 says we will get quite a little money from the sale, 
 so we will not be so badly off. And when the 
 time comes, Billie will be sensible, I know he will" 
 
 Just then Billie appeared at the side window, 
 waving a croquet mallet at them invitingly. 
 
 " Come on and be beaten," he called. " Let's 
 eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die, if 
 you two are going to do the cooking at the Nest 
 Hashed spiders, and mouse fricassee ! Whew ! " 
 
 Avis laughed, a queer, unsteady laugh, and rose, 
 wiping her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Billie '11 be sensible," she said. 
 " Hear him." 
 
 Muggins shook her head doubtfully. 
 
 " We'll come," she replied, nodding her head to 
 Billie, then with a comical look of mingled mirth 
 and anxiety in her brown eyes. " The council of 
 state is at an end."
 
 CHAPTER H 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own. 
 
 FROM Monday until Thursday was the busiest 
 time Marjorie ever went through. On Tuesday 
 Mr. Bonner came with a note-book and a lot of 
 little tags, and the girls followed him wistfully 
 about while he placed his price on all that was to 
 be sold. 
 
 "When they reached the schoolroom there was a 
 woeful-faced assembly awaiting their coming. 
 Billie sat before the screen with blood in his eye. 
 Woe betide the man who invaded his treasure 
 house with tags. 
 
 Over near the bay window sat the menagerie in 
 their own special chairs which they had sat in 
 since babyhood, and all around them, heaped high 
 to their knees, were the idols of their hearts which 
 they had resolved to save from the hand of the 
 destroyer. 
 
 A cross-eyed Japanese doll was hugged to the 
 Lion's heart. The girls disdained dolls, but he 
 had love to spare for every poor, maimed beauty 
 they discarded, and now he had them all, little 
 
 20
 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own 21 
 
 wild-eyed penny dolls with long hair, and weak 
 joints, plump bisque darlings in silk and velvet, 
 and rubber dolls galore. Especially did the 
 Lion's heart warm toward the rubber dolls, for in 
 moments of emergency they could be transformed 
 into the handiest weapons of war imaginable, and 
 never showed the scars of battle. There were 
 rag babies, too, brownies, pickaninnies, crazy little 
 cotton pug dogs and cats, all, all were there, and 
 the Lion meant to guard them with his life. 
 
 Dora had Hop Sing and Cripple carefully caged 
 beside her, and the Owl was almost hidden behind 
 her stock of story books, while on each side rose 
 all sorts and conditions of boxes and bundles 
 whose wondrous contents no man knew. 
 
 Avis tried not to laugh when she saw the group, 
 and it was not hard, for the very first thing that 
 Mr. Bonner went to was her piano the dearly 
 loved piano that had been her last gift from her 
 father, and of course that must go with the rest, 
 for it would bring more money than anything else. 
 
 Marjorie slipped her hand comfortingly into 
 hers, but some big tears rolled rebelliously from 
 Avis' eyes, and she looked away when he put on 
 a tag. 
 
 " What else, Miss Randall ? " he asked, briskly, 
 glancing around the room. "That rosewood 
 desk?"
 
 22 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Not much ! " exclaimed Billie, his face redden- 
 ing. " That was mamma's, and it's Avis' now, 
 isn't it, Muggins ? " 
 
 Marjorie met his eyes bravely. She knew just 
 how he felt, in fact, she felt that way herself. 
 
 " The desk is to stay with us, sir," she said, 
 firmly, 
 
 "And the willow chair? Table? Lounge? 
 Screen ? That's a handsome screen." 
 
 "No, sirree bob." Billie looked like a little 
 fighting bantam as he strutted from his seat and 
 faced the spoiler. " Those are all to stay. Mug- 
 gins," with a suspicious solicitude, " you want to 
 show the gentleman that nice big hat-rack out in 
 the hall. There's nothing left for him in here." 
 
 Muggins flashed him a grateful glance, and 
 seized on the hint as a relief from her perplexity. 
 She really wanted to sell all she could, of course, 
 for the sake of the money, but there were things 
 in the dear old schoolroom which seemed so pre- 
 ious that nothing could buy them, so Mr. Bonner 
 took his leave. After the door had closed, the 
 menagerie rose in solemn silence, and joining 
 hands with Billie, they danced a wild barbaric 
 dance from the Feejees, over the downfall of the 
 enemy. 
 
 But even after the packing was started in ear- 
 nest, and everything had been settled about the
 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own 23 
 
 furniture, tears were the order of the day, and 
 skirmishes were frequent between the menagerie 
 and the packers, Avis and Muggins. 
 
 " You're the moistest lot I ever saw," said Billie, 
 scornfully, and then Dora and he went off by their 
 " lonelies " to lament in secret over the sale of 
 their white rats to Tommy Baxter, next door, for 
 a dollar. Billie had laid the money beside Mug- 
 gins' plate carelessly, and only the Lamb guessed 
 the sacrifice. 
 
 Reggie and Winifred were the dauntless con- 
 spirators, though. In the schoolroom stood three 
 packing boxes, and alarums and excursions were 
 frequent between these two and Marjorie. She 
 would catch them stealing in with treasures to 
 smuggle into the boxes, and as all " trash " was 
 strictly forbidden, the paper dolls, marbles, broken 
 china, ribbon ends, and all the rest were promptly 
 thrown out, and the Owl and the Lion wailed in 
 harmonious unison. 
 
 At last all was ready. The boxes and the few 
 pieces of cherished furniture which they had saved 
 had gone in a van to the depot, and the six were 
 marshaled in the front hall, equipped for their 
 journey. Molly had gone early in the morning, 
 with many a kiss for her "darlints," and each 
 room in the house had been visited and been given 
 a fond teary farewell,
 
 24 Rook's Nest 
 
 Mr. Ellis, the old, kindly faced lawyer, liad vol- 
 unteered to see them safely to the depot, and be- 
 fore the train started, he took Marjorie's hand and 
 gave it a hearty clasp. 
 
 " Be brave, little girl," he said, gently, " and if 
 you need help, do not hesitate to write to me. I 
 have three of my own, bless them." 
 
 Marjorie could only smile through her tears and 
 wave her hand as the train moved slowly away, and 
 they started on their journey for East Elmore. 
 Slowly the hours passed. In a short time the 
 windows had lost their attraction and Dora had 
 captured the conductor. When the menagerie had 
 finished with him there was little he did not know 
 about the home they had left, or the one to which 
 they were going. 
 
 After lunch Muggins fell fast asleep from sheer 
 exhaustion, and was sleeping peacefully, when all 
 at once Billie shook her. 
 
 " It's four o'clock," he said, excitedly, " do wake 
 up, Muggins, and see the country. We'll be in 
 pretty quick." 
 
 Six noses were pressed close to the windows as 
 the train swept on, past rolling uplands and low 
 broad sweeps of pasture land, down by rivers and 
 creeks. Then at last the train rounded a curve, 
 and East Elmore came into sight. A quiet little 
 country town on the side of a hill, with a broad
 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own 25 
 
 shallow river at its base. Muggins had turned 
 from the window to collect the scattered bundles 
 whose name was legion, and Billie came to help her. 
 
 " Say, sis," he said, with a trace of anxiety in 
 his voice, " have you any idea how far this place 
 is from town ? " 
 
 Marjorie raised her head in a quick startled way. 
 
 "Why, no," she answered, slowly. "Uncle's 
 letters were always postmarked East Elmore, and 
 pap; i knew all about ii But I haven't the least 
 idea where the house is. Some one will be able 
 to tell us, though." 
 
 " Perhaps," Billie said, dubiously. " I hadn't 
 thought of it before. Wouldn't it be funny if " 
 
 " East Elmore," called the conductor, and the rest 
 WHS all a scramble and bustle until the six stood 
 safely on the platform before the depot, watching 
 the smoke of the vanishing train. 
 
 " Now, then, you girls and the Lion go in there, 
 and sit down while I find out about everything," 
 Billie commanded, and Muggins gave him a grate- 
 ful glance for relieving her of the responsibility. 
 
 First he tried the freight-agent who was busy 
 with their luggage. 
 
 " Say, do you know a little old house around 
 here somewhere ? " he asked, bravely. 
 
 The man looked up at the sturdy little form be- 
 fore him, at the bright anxious eyes, and cap in
 
 26 Rook's Nest 
 
 hand, for Billie never forgot his politeness. The 
 freight agent was interested, and named over all 
 the little old places he could think of, but they all 
 had tenants, so the right one was still missing. 
 Billie felt a trifle excited, and an old farmer, who 
 had been leaning back in a chair on the shady 
 side of the station, strolled forward to listen. He 
 was short and stout, with a smooth shaven face, 
 rosy and wrinkled, the wrinkles deepening around 
 the merry blue eyes. Billie turned to repeat his 
 question to the newcomer. 
 
 "Jest looking for a little old house," he re- 
 peated. "Well," after a moment's thought, "I 
 guess I can suit you to a T. It's that place be- 
 yond the ravine, Jim, where old man Randall 
 lived." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; that's the name," broke in Billie, 
 eagerly. " He was our uncle, and our name's 
 Randall, too." 
 
 *' I'll take you down to see it now, if you want 
 to go, son," said the old man, kindly. 
 
 . " Oh, thanks, but there are six of us," answered 
 Billie. 
 
 The old man looked at him, his eyes twinkling 
 merrily. 
 
 "Well, how you're all going to camp out in 
 that little shanty is more than I can say," he re- 
 marked.
 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own 27 
 
 Billie was distinctly discouraged. It was hard 
 to hear the little home on which they had placed 
 their hopes called a little shanty, but he swal- 
 lowed back the lump in his throat, and asked, 
 
 " How far is it ? " 
 
 " 'Bout two miles, more or less. You can all 
 come with me if you want to. Run, tell your 
 folks, son." 
 
 "There are six of us, I said, sir," explained 
 Billie. " The girls and the Li I mean Reggie, 
 and I." 
 
 " All youngsters ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well," after a pause, " come on," and there 
 was a queer look in old Mr. Rogers' blue eyes as 
 he watched the boy go into the waiting-room. 
 
 Billie was hailed with delight when he told of 
 his success. He did not say anything about the 
 shanty though. It might spoil everything, he 
 thought, and make the girls feel badly. 
 
 " What about the boxes, and furniture, Billie ? " 
 Muggins enquired, anxiously. 
 
 " I don't know," he returned. " Let's ask the 
 old duffer out there." 
 
 Accordingly, Mr. Rogers was interviewed, and 
 after careful deliberation, and a survey of the pile 
 of luggage, he agreed to carry as much of it as 
 would go on the large hay wagon that was backed
 
 28 Rook's Nest 
 
 up to the platform, and it was not long before the 
 whole lot had been transferred. 
 
 " Now, then, you youngsters 11 have to catch on 
 wherever it is handy," said Mr. Kogers, cheerily. 
 " The brown-haired one had better sit up here with 
 me and hold the little shaver on her lap. Son, 
 you tuck the girls behind the lasi box, and swing 
 on yourself at the end. All right, everybody? 
 Get up, Charlie. G'long there, NelL" 
 
 Down the street, over the railroad track, and 
 along the riverside road went the big wagon with 
 its queer load, and the menagerie were uproari- 
 ously jubilant. The heat of the day was past, and 
 the shadows of the tall poplars and maples were 
 lengthening. The grass by the roadside was thick 
 with yellow dandelions, and Billie had to jump 
 down at the Lion's order, and gather some of the 
 tallest ones to make curly wiggles of. Then there 
 were thorn apple-trees clouds of pink and white 
 blossoms here and there beneath the tall forest 
 trees and again it was Billie who accommoda- 
 tingly got his hands well scratched breaking off 
 fragrant branches for her royal highness. 
 
 "What do you reckon doing yonder?" asked 
 Mr. Eogers, when they had left the town far be- 
 hind. 
 
 Marjorie's face was lifted, her eyes soft and 
 dreamy, her lips half parted in a smile of content.
 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own 29 
 
 " Oh, just live and be happy," she said. " It is 
 all so beautiful here." 
 
 " Yes," assented the old man, " it's a right nice 
 place, and it's a pretty place, too, but fruit trees 
 and posy beds aren't going to feed you six chil- 
 dren." 
 
 " Oh, we're going to raise vegetables," Muggins 
 said, hopefully. 
 
 " And peanuth," added the Lion, solemnly. 
 
 Mr. Rogers laughed, a jolly chuckle of a laugh 
 that shook him from head to foot. 
 
 " "Well, I hope you'll like it, and grow fat," he 
 said. " Have you got any farm tools ? " 
 
 Marjorie shook her head, and stopped thinking 
 how lovely it would be to get lost in a great deep 
 ferny ravine like the one they were passing, to 
 wonder what they would do with tools, anyway. 
 
 " Didn't you ever raise anything ? " 
 
 " Nary a 'tater," called Billie, from the end of 
 the wagon. " But we're going to learn how." 
 
 " What are you going to do while the crops are 
 growing ? " 
 
 "Oh, have a good time all around, and eat 
 grass," replied Billie, bravely. He felt that unless 
 he met these practical posers, Marjorie's courage 
 might vanish entirely at the prospect ahead, and 
 that would never do. 
 
 " Well, my place is next to yours," Mr. Rogers
 
 30 Rook's Nest 
 
 said, " and if you get into a hole just call on your 
 neighbor. I'll help you out." 
 
 " Have you got any ? '' asked Dora, her curly 
 head bobbing up from behind a box with startling 
 suddeness. 
 
 "Any what?" 
 
 Children." 
 
 " I've got Rob, that's all. Eob's a likely boy, 
 too." 
 
 " Does he ever call girls names ? " 
 
 " Guess not." 
 
 "Not freckles, or red-head, or or anything 
 horrid like that?" 
 
 Mr. Rogers laughed. 
 
 " If he did, his mother wouldn't own him. No, 
 Rob isn't that kind. He likes dogs and rabbits, 
 and turtles and squirrels, and all that truck. He's 
 got a room full of all kinds of queer stuff that he 
 thinks a sight of. Bird's eggs and such like, only 
 he never takes but one egg from each nest. He 
 wouldn't hurt anything for the world. Why I've 
 seen him walk round an ant hill for fear he'd 
 crush some of the ants. And he's got a fiddle, 
 too ; he can play on it like all get out when he gets 
 started. And he draws pictures fine, too." 
 
 Dora planted her elbows on the top of the box, 
 and leaned her chin on her palms thoughtfully. 
 
 "Is is your boy pretty? ' asked Winifred,
 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own 31 
 
 shyly, a vision of some of her favorite princes 
 coming up before her. 
 
 "Well, no, not exactly," Mr. Rogers answered. 
 " He doesn't look like me a bit No, I don't think 
 Bob will ever set the world afire with his good looks, 
 but he's a good boy ; " and here the old man had 
 another laugh, this time so vigorous that Charlie 
 and Nell pricked up their ears and made a fresh 
 start homeward. 
 
 " I shall like that Rogers boy," Dora whispered, 
 confidentially to the OwL " I shouldn't wonder if 
 he were a brick." 
 
 " But he isn't pretty," said Winnie, shaking her 
 head, doubtfully. " I don't like homely people." 
 
 More ravines, more meadows with glimpses of 
 the river now and then, dim at the margin with 
 wood-green shadow trees, and blue with the re- 
 flection of passing clouds in midstream. The two 
 miles were passed all too quickly, and finally the 
 wagon drew up before a little gate. This and the 
 top of a chimney were all one could see to show 
 that there was a house beyond, for tall lilacs in 
 full bloom stood all along the roadway as far 
 as the fence went, and hid the interior from 
 view like the hedge around the palace of the 
 sleeping beauty. Then there were maples, too, 
 their leaves light gold-green, and lacy above the 
 lilacs, and still farther on, fruit trees like great
 
 32 Rook's Nest 
 
 snowballs of blossoms, making an enchanted garden 
 indeed. 
 
 All except Avis and Muggins were past the gate 
 as soon as they could get there, exploring the new 
 domain with shouts of triumph. The girls waited 
 until Mr. Rogers had lifted out the furniture and 
 set it in the garden with Billie's assistance. Then 
 they thanked him warmly for all his kindness, and 
 went in, feeling, as they shut the gate, a tingle of 
 pride and pleasure. It was all their very own. 
 
 IJp the path they went until they found the 
 house, the funniest dot of a house, gray, in color, 
 with morning glories and rose vines tangled all 
 over the walls, and more lilacs on guard as senti- 
 nels. These could look over the top nearly, and 
 nod a friendly greeting to the grape-vine on the 
 tiny arbor that led to an old moss-grown well at 
 the back. 
 
 The door was locked, and Billie had promptly 
 gone to work in a business-like manner at the 
 kitchen window. 
 
 "In you go," cried Dora, fairly dancing with 
 excitement, as her hero tumbled valiantly in, and 
 drew back the bolt on the kitchen door with the 
 air of a conqueror. 
 
 " Oh, what a cobwebby nest it is," exclaimed 
 Winifred, stepping daintily on the threshold. 
 
 The two windows faced the west, and the room
 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own 33 
 
 was bright with the ruddy sunset glow, which 
 shone on the dim walls and faded paint, with a 
 kindly magic touch that lent them some of its 
 beauty. 
 
 The furniture was meagre, a couple of chairs, a 
 table, and a cupboard. On the dusty floor were 
 two dingy braided rugs, and on a peg by the sink 
 hung a crazy looking mirrow with patches of 
 quicksilver showing in unexpected places. The 
 entry was in the centre of the little house, and ran 
 straight through to the kitchen with a room on 
 either side. One was a sitting-room, and here 
 Uncle Cherrington had left his mark. The arm- 
 chair drawn up beside the open grate with high 
 curved back, and deeply hollowed seat, told of 
 many a cosy, if lonely, evening spent before the 
 wide old-fashioned grate. 
 
 There was a faded carpet on the floor, and the 
 view from the windows on the green garden vistas 
 and blossoming trees was very pretty. 
 
 Marjorie's heart grew lighter the more of her 
 kingdom she saw, and already she had fixed on 
 certain corners that would be just right for the 
 desk or couch or the menagerie's playground. 
 
 The room opposite was a large bedroom with a 
 tall four-posted bed in it that gave the girls the 
 shivers. Last of all came a room that started be- 
 hind the sitting-room, and extended the length of
 
 34 Rook's Nest 
 
 the kitchen, after which it went off a way on its 
 own account, making an " L " at the south corner. 
 
 " "What a funny place," Dora said, as they ran 
 through the rooms, not minding the dust, but 
 laughing and shouting over new discoveries at 
 every step. " There ought to be an old witch to 
 pounce out on us and change us into birds or 
 lizards, and then we'd have to wait until a prince 
 came to break the spell." 
 
 " I wish your old princes would come and bring 
 something to eat," grumbled Billie, dismally. " I 
 could eat fried doormat." 
 
 " Me, too," echoed the Lion, with a gentle sigh 
 of endurance. 
 
 Avis looked at Muggins. Words were not 
 needed between them. Here were six hungry 
 children, and not a mouthful to eat in the nest. 
 
 " Let's go out, and look after our things in the 
 yard," said Muggins, cheerfully. " We must get 
 some of them in before dark, you know, Billie." 
 
 So back they all went to the garden, and piece 
 by piece the treasured bits of furniture were 
 brought into the new house until everything was 
 in except the three boxes. 
 
 "We'll have to camp any old place to-night, 
 girls," Billie said, after it was all done, and they 
 sat cross-legged in a circle under the lilacs. " Say, 
 Muggins, can't you think of a single thing to eat ? "
 
 The Princess Comes to Her Own 35 
 
 Marjorie shook her head dolefully. 
 
 "I never thought about anything except our 
 lunch on the train when we left the other house," 
 she answered. " Whatever can be done ? " 
 
 A gloomy silence fell on the little group. Avis 
 had a spray of apple blossoms and was thought- 
 fully munching the delicate petals, and Billie was 
 solemnly feeding the menagerie by turns with 
 grass, when suddenly Dora's quick brown eyes 
 opened wider, and she bent eagerly forward to look 
 at a tall figure looming up in the shadowy twilight 
 the other side of the gate. 
 
 " Look ! " she whispered, softly, pointing at the 
 sudden apparition. "There's the prince." And 
 before any one could stop her, she sprang up and 
 called out " Whatcher got ? " 
 
 "Doughnuts and milk," came back the ready 
 response. " I'm Hob Rogers. Father said you'd 
 all be hungry. Can I come in ? " 
 
 Could he come in ! 
 
 Billie turned a somersault on the grass and 
 shouted, 
 
 " Well I guess ! Come ahead ! Bring on your 
 doughnuts and milk ; " while there was a general 
 stampede as the tall figure came up the path with 
 a pitcher of milk in one hand, and a big pan 
 filled with rich brown doughnuts in the other. 
 " The honest and truly ones," Dora said, " with a
 
 36 Rook's Nest 
 
 hole in the middle." The stranger was very shj, 
 though, under the volley of questions and the ef- 
 fusive welcome of the menagerie, and even Mug- 
 gins' warm invitation to stay could not keep him. 
 
 " Come back to-morrow," called Dora, between 
 mouthfuls, as he turned to go. " Sure pop." 
 
 " All right," Bob answered, laughingly. " Mother 
 says you are all to come over to our place for 
 breakfast. First house down the road it is. 
 Good-night, all." 
 
 " Good-night. "We'll come," shouted Billie, and 
 Marjorie felt happier than she had since they had 
 come to the nest. 
 
 For an hour after Rob's departure the six Rat- 
 tletibangers cared little about anything else in the 
 world as they made Mrs. Rogers' doughnuts dis- 
 appear, and drained the last drop of sweet country 
 milk ; but at last the feast was finished. As they 
 started to go indoors, the Lion was missed, and 
 after considerable skirmishing Avis found him 
 rolled up like a kitten under the lilacs fast asleep 
 with his little Jap doll clasped loyally in his arms, 
 side by side with a half eaten doughnut. Billie 
 carried him into the house, and so the first night 
 began, and the princess had come to her own.
 
 CHAPTER m 
 Princes in Disguise 
 
 PROMPTLY at six by Marjorie's little silver watch 
 hanging up iu the kitchen for a clock, Billie 
 paraded back and forth through the entry banging 
 on the milk pan with his fist. 
 
 " Everybody get up and hustle," he called, and 
 the rest answered to the call nobly. 
 
 The walk down the road to the Rogers' farm 
 was short, and the warm welcome that awaited the 
 children was so hearty from Mr. Rogers, and so 
 motherly from his wife, that Marjorie knew she 
 had two true friends on whose kindness she could 
 rely. 
 
 " Land, child," said Eob's mother, her rosy face 
 beaming around on the circle of hungry faces 
 about the breakfast table. " You're no better than 
 a brood of goslings without a mother. Who on 
 earth is going to teach you how to swim through 
 life?" 
 
 " Muggins," said Dora, promptly, and although 
 she laughed with the rest over Dora's answer, yet 
 when she looked at Marjorie's steady brown eyes, 
 
 37
 
 38 Rook's Nest 
 
 and loving ways, Mrs. Rogers thought Dora might 
 be right after all. After breakfast, Rob harnessed 
 Sinbad, his own handsome bay, to a light wagon, 
 and Marjorie made a list, with Mrs. Rogers' help, 
 of all the groceries she would need to start house- 
 keeping with, so that the boys could bring them 
 from town for her, and they drove off together, the 
 best of friends. 
 
 " Aren't the Rogerses nice ? " asked Dora, when 
 the girls walked back home. They had a gener- 
 ous basket of eggs and butter, and on top of these 
 a cook-book. 
 
 " You'll need it before you get through," Mrs. 
 Rogers had said, when she laid it there. 
 
 "Mr. Rogers is so little and cunning," Dora 
 went on in her rattling happy-go-lucky way. " He 
 looks just like Santa Glaus, and Rob's a darling. 
 He promised me some pigeons and bantams, and 
 rabbits, and said he'd help me climb up to the 
 crow's nest in that big walnut-tree down by their 
 barn. My, but isn't he tall? Billie says you 
 could tie a knot in him, and then he wouldn't be 
 too short." 
 
 It was great fun in fixing up Rook's Nest, as 
 they all called it The packing cases were opened in 
 the yard, and after the house was cleared of dust 
 and cobwebs, the treasurers from the old home 
 were transferred to the new one. With fresh
 
 Princes in Disguise 39 
 
 white curtains at the windows, and pretty familar 
 pictures hung around on the walls, the place com- 
 menced to wear quite a different aspect A rib- 
 bon tidy here, and a soft dainty pillow there, 
 placed by Avis' tasty fingers, gave quite an attrac- 
 tive air to the bare lonely rooms, and the girls 
 felt wonderfully encouraged when at last they sat 
 down and surveyed their work. 
 
 The long " L " room was to take the place of 
 the schoolroom at home, and already the special 
 corners were arranged. Hop Sing and Cripple 
 hung in their cages at the windows. The three 
 little white beds of the menageries stood around 
 like doll beds, and Avis had set up her little desk 
 and bookcase, trying to forget the piano she loved 
 so welL But best of all, they unanimously de- 
 clared was "mother's corner." That was Avis' 
 idea, and she had carried out her plan with great 
 success. The rosewood desk was there, and a 
 picture of the dear mother hung above it, and then 
 came the willow chair with the stool for her feet, 
 and lastly her work-basket ; the high one of fancy 
 straw and wood with slim prettily carved legs, and 
 queer little hanging bags around the sides for 
 thread and buttons, and all the multitude of odds 
 and ends that found a peaceful resting-place in 
 mother's work-basket 
 
 "I think we have fixed a place for every one
 
 40 Rook's Nest 
 
 now," Marjorie said, counting off the places on her 
 fingers. " Dora, Winnie, and Reggie in the school- 
 room in their own beds ; you and I, Avis, will 
 have the four poster, and Billie will have to sleep 
 on the lounge in the sitting-room." 
 
 "That's all very nice for us," the Lamb re- 
 turned, from her perch on the window-sill, "but 
 Billie won't have any place for his bugs or his 
 books or anything. I think it's mean." 
 
 " No, it is not, dear," said Avis, calmly. "Billie 
 is the man of the house, and must make the best 
 of everything." 
 
 "Well, I don't care," murmured Dora, rebel- 
 liously, " it isn't fair, and p'raps Billie and I'll go 
 off and build a house all by our ownselve^. Then 
 you'll be sorry you didn't treat him well. We 
 could build a better one than this, any day." 
 
 " Mutiny ! Mutiny ! " cried Marjorie, catching up 
 the rebel in her arms. " Let's lower her down the 
 well until she promises to be good." 
 
 "I won't," screamed Dora. "Let me go." 
 
 " Promise ? " 
 
 " No, sir-ree bob, I'll go with Billie if he goes," 
 gasped the Lamb, in lusty defiance, though she was 
 being borne in disgrace to the well, but all at once 
 there was a sound of wheels, and she screamed, 
 
 "Bil-lee!" 
 
 Whereupon two gallant knights rushed to tho
 
 Princes in Disguise 41 
 
 rescue of beauty in distress, and after a brief, but 
 fiery fray, bore her from the enemy in triumph. 
 
 " Of course we'll build a house," Billie replied 
 to Dora's eager questioning, " and we won't tell a 
 soul where it is, either. That's the way to settle 
 tin -so prime ministers who think that they can 
 make heads of families sleep on common lounges. 
 Not much." 
 
 The prime ministers did not notice the threat 
 They were too busy looking over the bundles of 
 provisions which Bob handed down from the 
 wagon. With their slender store of money they 
 had not dared to indulge in even the mildest 
 luxuries, but still the little stock seemed quite 
 plentiful and tempting when it was all nicely ar- 
 ranged in the small pantry off the kitchen. 
 
 " If you need anything come right over to our 
 place," Bob said to Marjorie. "Mother will do 
 anything for you." 
 
 " Oh, we'll come fast enough," interposed Billie, 
 with suspicious eagerness. " Just wait until we've 
 sampled Miiggins' cooking, then we'll see whether 
 it leaves us dead or alive, and if it kills us, why, 
 we'll begin life over again with you." 
 
 Bob laughed. He was standing by the kitchen 
 door with the Lion on his shoulder, and Marjorie 
 glanced at the two with a quick bright smile. She 
 liked this tall, overgrown boy, with his soft dark
 
 42 Rook's Nest 
 
 eyes, and quiet voice. He held tlie little chap as 
 tenderly as she herself could have done, she 
 thought; and the look in his eyes, a steady, 
 resolute look, and the way he held his head as 
 if he were not afraid of anything in the whole 
 world, made her agree with Mr. Rogers. Bob was 
 certainly a likely boy. 
 
 " Can't you stay to dinner with us, Bob ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 "No, thanks," he said, with a glance at his 
 soiled hands and dusty clothes. " You don't want 
 to begin feeding tramps so soon." 
 
 " Oh, go on," Billie said, in a low tone of en- 
 couragement " Muggins won't care." 
 
 " No," Bob answered, turning away, and setting 
 the Lion down carefully. " But perhaps the other 
 one would. Good-bye." 
 
 Billie looked after him in a puzzled way as he 
 drove of Then he put his hands in his pockets 
 and whistled softly for a few minutes before he 
 got the case clearly in his head. 
 
 " Say, Avis." 
 
 Avis turned from the table she was sitting to 
 look enquiringly at the head pushed through the 
 window. 
 
 " Have you been putting on airs with Bob '? " 
 
 " Certainly not," answered her royal highness, 
 with dignity. " I have not spoken to him at all."
 
 Princes in Disguise 43 
 
 " Oh, that's it, is it ? " groaned Billie. " Been 
 treating him as if he were a walking clothes-pole, 
 or a stray lightning-rod, haven't you? Just a 
 shadow in your royal highness's path, eh ? Avis 
 Randall, do you know you make me tired ? Now, 
 you needn't get huffy, 'cause you do. Can't act 
 with common politeness to a boy 'cause he milks 
 cows and wears overalls. Who was it brought 
 you doughnuts and milk when you were starving 
 on old apple blossoms ? " 
 
 " Billie, if you knew how silly you looked bob- 
 bing your head, and reading the riot act, you'd 
 stop," said Marjorie, laughing heartily at the two. 
 So the matter was let rest, and the first meal they 
 had eaten in the new house was despatched in a 
 general " jollification," as Billie called it 
 
 The days passed on, and Marjorie's heart grew 
 lighter and more hopeful as she saw how happy 
 her little colony was. Bob was a regular visitor 
 at the Nest, and a very welcome one too. It was 
 he who helped Billie clear away the weeds from 
 the yard, and cut the high straggly grass into a 
 semblance of order. It was he, too, who taught 
 them how to begin their gardening; and he and 
 Muggins worked over the slips and cuttings and 
 seeds that Mrs. Rogers sent over, until Marjorie 
 was as brown and as tanned as the boys. 
 
 Avis would not touch gardening. It made her
 
 44 Rook's Nest 
 
 hands so rough and dirty, and besides, one had to 
 touch worms and creeping things, so she would 
 take her sketch-book, or a favorite author from 
 her little library hoard, and go off by herself to 
 the riverside or ravine to dream, and play princess, 
 Billie explained scornfully. 
 
 They were brave dreams, though, for Avis was 
 the genius of the family, the said family had al- 
 ways agreed ever since she was as small as the 
 Lion. While Muggins had been busy as a bee, 
 looking after the sick father and caring for the in- 
 valid mother, Avis had studied and dreamed and 
 lingered now over her piano, now over her sketch- 
 ing, now over her stories, ever looking forward to 
 the great day when she should win fame and for- 
 tune and play fairy godmother to the whole Han- 
 dall brood. But, in the meanwhile, she thought 
 out wonderful plots and scribbled off wonderful 
 tales, and wasted her substance in copy-paper and 
 stamps, and then sat down, and waited and hoped, 
 and spent the money they were sure to bring 
 over and over again in her mind, and then one 
 day, the postman would bring a long envelope with 
 a business head on it, and there would be the dear 
 discarded child of her fancy accompanied by the 
 neat frosty little line of refusal, and Avis would 
 weep a little, storm a little at the wretched taste 
 of editors, and then just take Billie's advice to
 
 Princes in Disguise 45 
 
 grin and bear it, and build new air castles when 
 the old ones faded into cloudland. 
 
 But she was a genius. There was no doubt 
 about that, Muggins would say, and so even if she 
 lacked the world's verdict of fame, she was the 
 laurel-crowned queen of poetry and fiction at 
 home, and never lacked an appreciative audience. 
 The schoolroom had been the shrine of the Muses 
 at the old home, and now at the little Nest, the 
 " L " room took its place. Day after day, Avis 
 spent some time at the desk in the south window, 
 dreaming and writing at stories that were to thrill 
 the world, but, as Billie said, "the world didn't 
 thrill worth a cent," and the practical youth even 
 hinted that he thought it would be a good deal 
 more to her royal highness' s credit if she helped 
 Muggins wash dishes, and mend stockings. 
 However, Avis always gracefully ignored his little 
 hints as beneath her notice, and when they became 
 too pointed, she simply took refuge in the ravines. 
 
 Sometimes the Owl would go, too, but generally 
 she liked to be with Beggie, and Avis said that he 
 was too much trouble to take. 
 
 Billie and Dora were acting in a very strange 
 manner. At the end of the yard, just where the 
 slope .toward the river began, stood a great old 
 ramshackle barn, large enough to hold three or 
 four houses, the size of Hook's Nest
 
 46 Rook's Nest 
 
 Muggins had been too busy to explore it, but 
 Billie and the menagarie had penetrated to its 
 deepest corners, and all at once a mysterious sep- 
 aration had occurred. The rival factions were 
 respectively Billie and the Lamb on the barn side, 
 and Winnie and Reggie on the exiled side. Both 
 had been summarily banished from the new do- 
 main a few days after its occupancy by the other 
 two worthies, and neither threats nor prayers 
 availed to recover their lost estate. 
 
 " Winifred, where is Dora? " asked Marjorie, about 
 two weeks after the kingdom had become inhabited. 
 
 Out in the garden under the apple trees Bob 
 had erected a swing, as a balm for the Owl's 
 wounded spirits, and here she and the Lion spent 
 most of their time. 
 
 "I don't know anything about her," Winnie 
 answered, loftily, poising herself on one foot and 
 swaying back and forth. "She and Billie shut 
 themselves up in that old spidery barn, and that's 
 all we see of them." 
 
 Marjorie laughed at the aggrieved tone and ran 
 down to the barn. The big loose creaky doors 
 were barred from within, and she called several 
 times before it was opened by Billie, dusty, and 
 towsled haired. 
 
 " No fair coming in," he announced, firmly, then 
 called, " it's only Muggins, Dora."
 
 Princes in Disguise 47 
 
 A muffled answer came from the depths beyond, 
 and he continued : 
 
 " What doth the princess of Rattletibang King- 
 dom wish to say unto the lord and lady of the 
 Palace of a Thousand Delights ? " 
 
 " I want to tell the lady to come and chase her 
 bantams out of my garden right away," replied 
 Marjorie, decidedly. 
 
 " Aha ! " and Billie knit his lordly brow in deep 
 abstraction. " So the imperial birds have wan- 
 dered, have they? 'Tis well. "We will reclaim 
 them, Princess." 
 
 "Hurry up, Dora," called Marjorie, as she 
 turned away, and she fired a parting shot at the 
 Palace of a Thousand Delights. "If your im- 
 perial birds do any more damage to my pansy 
 beds I shall make potpie of them." 
 
 "Do you believe she means that, honest and 
 true ? " asked Dora, anxiously, scrambling out 
 from a pile of hay up in the loft 
 
 Billie shook his head, and seated himself on a 
 meal box. 
 
 " We're going to have a mighty hard time of it 
 to keep this a secret," he said, gravely, " the girls 
 are just hopping wild to see what we've got in 
 here, and Winnie " 
 
 " Winnie, indeed ! " and the valiant Lamb gave 
 a sniff of disdain. " If you're afraid of children^
 
 48 Rook's Nest 
 
 Billie, you can leave the whole thing, and I'll ask 
 Rob to help me. I don't care what you do." 
 
 Billie glowered at her in high dudgeon. 
 
 " I do believe for a fact, Dora Randall, that you 
 think Bob's smarter'n I am." 
 
 Dora sat on the edge of the loft and dangled her 
 feet carelessly down, while she pegged corn kernels 
 at the gloomy lord of the palace. 
 
 " I like him because he never gets huffy like you 
 do," she replied, teasingly. " What if they do try 
 to find out our secret? Can't we draw up the 
 ladder here, and beat them all to pieces just the 
 same as if it were a real palace with a drawbridge, 
 and everything ? Billie, you're a duffer." 
 
 " I'm not," blustered Billie. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you are, too, William," Dora replied, 
 calmly, " the dufferest duffer I ever saw " 
 
 Such imputations were unbearable. Billie sprang 
 up and made a frantic dive for the ladder, thirsting 
 for vengeance, but before he could touch it, it rose 
 in the air above his head, hoisted by the Lamb, 
 who thereupon sat calmly down on her draw- 
 bridge, and smiled at him pityingly. 
 
 " Never touched me ! " 
 
 " You're afraid," taunted Billie, but she shook 
 her head. 
 
 "I only wanted to show you how easy it is to 
 keep any one from coming up here," she said.
 
 Princes in Disguise 49 
 
 " Yes, but we could starve if Muggins thought 
 of a seige," began Billie, dubiously, when all at 
 once Marjorie put her head in the doorway. 
 
 " Bantam potpie for dinner ! " she called, and, 
 taking the hint, the lord and lady of the Palace of 
 a Thousand Delights hastened to the rescue of the 
 imperial birds, and shut them up in their coop. 
 
 " We're going to have an understanding on this 
 matter," Avis said, at dinner time when Billie and 
 Dora rushed in late as usuaL " You two go oflj 
 day after day " 
 
 "In that old spidery barn," added Winnie. 
 
 " An' chathe uth out," came the Lion's plaintive 
 tones. 
 
 "And forget to do your share of the work," 
 Marjorie concluded, trying to look severa The 
 culprits exchanged glances, but did not reply to 
 the charge, and after dinner they strolled back to 
 the barn arm in arm. 
 
 " I wish that we could find out what they are 
 doing up there," the Owl said, regretfully. 
 
 Two days had passed by, and still the mystery 
 of the Palace remained unsolved. The lord and 
 lady were brimful of some great secret, and missed 
 the call to dinner and supper regularly. It was 
 after dinner, and the girls were washing up the 
 dishes. Since the desertion of the Lamb, Avis 
 had assisted at this latter function.
 
 50 Rook's Nest 
 
 " So do I," replied Marjorie. " I'm afraid that 
 Dora will fall from those high beams and hurt her- 
 self, you know, Avis." 
 
 " Small danger, I guess," Avis returned, rolling 
 her sleeves up daintly. "She climbs trees and 
 fences like a cat. You should have seen that 
 Rogers' boy and she up in the walnut-tree yester- 
 day. He makes a worse tomboy of her than Billie 
 does. I don't believe they can get into much 
 mischief." 
 
 But Muggins looked anxious. 
 
 "I am going to find out this afternoon," she 
 said, slowly. " We'll all break into the barn and 
 capture it." 
 
 "It's too warm to get excited over nothing," 
 Avis said, idly. 
 
 " Oh, won't you help us, please, Avie," and the 
 Owl's face was all puckered for a cry. 
 
 "No, dear," replied her royal highness, decid- 
 edly. ' " I don't care about racing all over that old 
 barn, and besides, I want to finish my chapter." 
 
 " You've always got an old chapter to finish," 
 Winnie murmured, wistfully. 
 
 " Well, I want to let down the hem of my white 
 dress, too," added Avis. 
 
 Marjorie's face sobered in a moment, and she 
 sighed. 
 
 "It's a shame, Avis," she said, impetuously,
 
 Princes in Disguise 51 
 
 "when you are BO pretty and nice and different 
 from the rest of us, for you to have to bother over 
 such things." 
 
 Avis laughed in her low gentle way, and took a 
 fleeting look at herself in the little cracked mirror. 
 Fair, long hair that was never rumpled or untidy, 
 but fell in two even braids down her back. A 
 sweet, refined face, " just like mamma's," Marjorie 
 always said, and soft blue eyes that were ever 
 ready to gaze off at day dreams or air castles. 
 She was tall, too, tall, and graceful as a princess 
 ou^ r ht to be in all reason, whereas Muggins was 
 small and slender, without an atom of dignity 
 about her. Someway, no matter how much house 
 work Avis did, she was just the same, cool and 
 fresh, and sweet But with Muggins it was ever 
 short brown ciirls flying helter-skelter, the big all 
 enveloping apron which she would insist upon 
 wearing, seemed especially devised *to catch every 
 speck of dust and grime from the whole castle, and 
 her arms and hands and face were tanned like a 
 gypsy's from working in the garden. And the 
 only untidy thing about her royal highness 
 was the second finger on her right hand. This 
 Billie gloried in for it always wore a fine, largely 
 developed blot, a sign manual of her trade, he 
 said. 
 
 She looked at Marjorie now, and there was a
 
 52 Rook's Nest 
 
 shade of grateful tenderness in her voice as she 
 answered : 
 
 " You have to bother about a hundred and one 
 things, Marjorie, of much more importance than a 
 white dress. Why shouldn't I ? You don't want 
 to keep me around for an ornament, do you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, no, it isn't that," Marjorie answered, 
 vigorously, as she paused to talk, a plate elevated 
 in one hand, and the dish-cloth in the other. " I 
 mean that you ought to have been born some one 
 who only had to look lovely all the time, just born 
 to float around in a star-ship " 
 
 " What's that ? " asked Avis, laughingly. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know exactly, only it would look 
 like a star and sail through the sky with cute lit- 
 tle slaves fanning you, and flowers all piled around 
 for you to lie on. Then there would be a prince 
 in disguise "- 
 
 "How would I know that he was a prince if he 
 were in disguise ? " 
 
 " Well, you would just know because you couldn't 
 help knowing, and that's all," replied Marjorie, em- 
 phatically. " Princes are princes no matter whether 
 they're in velvet or rags. He would love you for 
 your golden hair, and something wonderful would 
 happen, of course, probably a griffin would carry 
 you off, and then the prince would have to rescue 
 you and bear you to a palace of pearl and crystal
 
 Princes in Disguise 53 
 
 where you could live on ice-cream and chocolate 
 caramels all the time, and be happy ever after. 
 And I would be the fairy godmother and say, 
 ' bless you, my children.' " 
 
 " It would be better than a Rook's Nest, anyway," 
 said Avis, thoughtfully, looking out of the low 
 window at the wilderness of trees and tangle of 
 wild flowers and climbing vines. "I wish the 
 prince would come." 
 
 " Here's Rob ! " called Winifred, poking her head 
 in for a second at the kitchen door before she 
 scampered down the path after the fleeing form 
 of the Lion. 
 
 Muggins laughed as Avis turned from the 
 window. 
 
 " It's only that Rogers' boy," she said, sedately, 
 picking up the dish-towel to wipe the rest of the 
 dishes. 
 
 " But he may be a prince in disguise, all the 
 same," laughed Marjorie ; then to Rob as he came 
 into sight : " Hello, stranger. Where have you 
 been for two whole days ? " 
 
 Rob leaned over the window-sill with Reggie 
 clinging to his neck, and nodded pleasantly. 
 
 "We've been pretty busy," he answered, "on 
 account of mother's boarder. It's the new min- 
 ister over at the chapel, Mr. Keith. I only 
 stopjxHl to-day on my way to town, to say hello."
 
 54 Rook's Nest 
 
 "Billie is sure to want to see you," replied 
 Muggins, " can't you come in ? " 
 
 "No, thanks. Let go my neck, old gentle- 
 man." 
 
 "Tickle him, Bob. Hard, under his arms," 
 Winnie advised, wisely, and upon the advice being 
 followed, the Lion surrendered unconditionally. 
 
 "I wonder if he is very old," Avis said, after 
 Bob had gone. 
 
 "About eighteen, Billie told me, eighteen or 
 nineteen." 
 
 " Who ? The new minister ? " 
 
 Marjorie looked up at Avis' startled face, and 
 burst out laughing. 
 
 " Oh, no, no, I mean Bob," she said, when she 
 could speak. 
 
 " I believe that Bob Bogers has turned every 
 head in the castle except mine," returned Avis. 
 
 "You show him that pretty well," and there 
 was a decided rebuke implied in Marjorie's tone. 
 
 Avis shut her lips in a close firm line, and hung 
 the towels on the line outside the door with great 
 deliberateness. It was not until she had taken 
 off her apron and was about to leave the room 
 that she spoke. 
 
 " I don't care whether he knows it or not. He's 
 just a big, common awkward country boy, and I 
 don't think boys like that are nice. I'm not a
 
 Princes in Disguise 55 
 
 tomboy liko Dora, or a dear good angel like yon, 
 Marjorie, and I don't liko folks for friends who 
 have cows and things to look after, and and 
 aren't neat So there." 
 
 Marjorie stood speechless during the outburst, 
 and after Avis was gone, she turned to the door 
 at a slight noise there. It was Bob. 
 
 "I forgot to tell you that mother says you 
 can have a couple of quarts of milk every night 
 just as well as not," ho said, looking with the 
 same pleasant steady smile at her flushed shamed 
 face. 
 
 "Oh, Rob, I'm so sorry," Muggins cried, ex- 
 truding her hands, impulsively, "I know that she 
 did not moan " 
 
 "That's all right, Margie," answered Rob, 
 cheerfully. " I guess probably she's right" 
 
 " But it isn't so " 
 
 " Oh, yes, it is," laughed Rob, as he turned to 
 go. "I'm not as neat as one of your princes. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 Marjorie sat down on the door-step to think 
 hard. She was deeply, truly sorry that Rob 
 should have heard Avis' words, and she felt as if 
 she would like to shake some of the "airs," as 
 Billie called them, out of her. Avis was so queer 
 about some things. She had said once that peo- 
 ple who were really nice at heart could not help
 
 56 Rook's Nest 
 
 being nice in their manners, and nice to Avis 
 meant looking as if you had just been touched 
 with Cinderella's wand, and were perfect from 
 head to foot. 
 
 That way of looking at the case troubled Mar- 
 jorie. She had known so many people whom she 
 had thought extremely nice, and yet who did not 
 faint if their hands weren't always lily-white like 
 Avis' ; then again it seemed to her that there had 
 been something lacking in some of those whom 
 Avis declared so " nice, and neat, and well bred." 
 It may have been the free-hearted kindliness, the 
 unfailing readiness to lend a helping hand, the 
 frank, cheery good-will that they lacked; she 
 could not tell quite all she missed, but they made 
 her think of bubbles floating in the sunshine, all 
 beautiful, changing colors, and glittering lights, 
 and then, pouf ! there was nothing to them but 
 light and air which a breath blew away. 
 
 Now Bob Rogers was really a very nice boy ; 
 she had thought so from the first evening when 
 he had come with the milk and doughnuts, and 
 she still thought so, in spite of Avis. 
 
 " When are you going to the barn, Muggins ? " 
 called Winnie from the swing. 
 
 Marjorie gave a last sigh over Avis' queerness, 
 and rose from the step. 
 
 "Eight away," she returned, and started to
 
 Princes in Disguise 57 
 
 rally her forces, for this charge of the Rattleti- 
 bangers against the Palace of the Thousand De- 
 lights was to be an event in the history of Book's 
 
 Nest
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 The Palace of a Thousand Delights 
 
 IT was a warm, bright afternoon, and the lilacs 
 along the wall afforded safe ambush for the at- 
 tacking party. No weapons were allowed. It 
 was to be a bloodless victory of right against 
 might. 
 
 The three bold warriors crept in single file De- 
 hind the lilacs' friendly shelter to the shady side 
 of the barn. Here stood an old empty water 
 trough, moss-grown and rickety, just under the 
 windows of the stall, and one by one Muggins 
 dropped her army through a window while she 
 stood on the trough, and then the gallant com- 
 mander herself squeezed through. When all three 
 stood at last in the barn, they clasped each other's 
 hands for mutual support, and listened for sounds 
 of the enemy. 
 
 A good many shingles were missing from the 
 roof, and the sunshine sifted down through broad 
 cracks here and there, making highways of golden 
 dust motes from roof to floor. 
 
 Against the loft stood the ladder, and Dora's 
 58
 
 The Palace of a Thousand Delights 59 
 
 hat Lung on the top. While Winnie and Reggie 
 hiel iii the stall, Muggins removed her shoes, and 
 slipped on a pair of rubbers she had brought 
 Noiselessly she stole around past the feed boxes, 
 and harness corner, through the little gate which 
 led from the stalls to the broad space under the 
 loft, and so to the foot of the ladder, when just as 
 she raised it, the hat tumbled, and at the sound, a 
 shrill cry of alarm came from the loft. 
 
 There was a rush of feet overhead, a series of 
 thrilling warwhoops from the lord of the Palace, 
 and the ladder was seized from above. 
 
 " Winifred, come help me quick 1 " cried Mug- 
 gin*, laughing, and clinging to the ladder, and the 
 reserves responded nobly. 
 
 There was a brief but wildly exciting struggle 
 for possession. Billie hung on like grim death, 
 his feet braced against a board in the floor of the 
 loft, while the Lamb lent her strength to the cause 
 by tying a rope around the defender, and secur- 
 ing the other end to a side beam, so that, should 
 his powers prove unavailing, he would not be car- 
 ried over the Palace walls with the fall of the 
 drawbridge, and thus fall a prey to the enemy. 
 
 The Roaring Lion became utterly unmanageable 
 in his headstrong zeal, for while the girls were 
 holding down the strategic key to the stronghold, 
 \ie valiantly attempted the scaling of the walls
 
 60 Rook's Nest 
 
 alone, and was only deterred from ascending the 
 ladder while the latter was swaying in mid air by 
 prompt and strenuous action on the part of 
 Muggins. 
 
 At last, however, the citadel fell, the ladder was 
 borne in triumph to the stalls, and the lord and 
 lady of the Palace retired, uncrushed by defeat, 
 and vowing untold vengeance. 
 
 " We've got you now ! " cried the Lion, fairly 
 dancing with joy. " You can't come down." 
 
 " Well, just you try coming up," Billie retorted, 
 defiantly ; then to Dora in a hushed undertone : 
 "That's what we've got to do, keep them from 
 coming up." 
 
 " They've got the ladder," answered the Lamb, 
 gloomily. 
 
 "Never mind. Help to pile a lot of hay over 
 there near the edge, and get some corn to peg at 
 them, and say, let's set the Enchanted Goblin 
 free?" 
 
 There was a confidence expressed in the last 
 suggestion that instantly reassured Dora, and 
 preparations for the defense began at once. 
 When all was ready, the two sat still and awaited 
 developments. 
 
 A subdued giggle came now and then from the 
 stalls, but at last even these ceased, and it was 
 evident that a new surprise was being planned.
 
 The Palace of a Thousand Delights 61 
 
 When the ladder disappeared, Billie pondered and 
 Dora looked worried. They heard the back door 
 swing open, then came a smothered sound ot 
 scuffling, and all was still again. 
 
 " I wonder what they will do next," whispered 
 the Lamb, lying at full length to try to peer 
 through the cracks, but Billie's attention was fixed 
 on the big front doors. They were being pushed 
 and shaken as though some one were trying to 
 get in. 
 
 " There they are ! " he said, excitedly, " they're 
 trying to get in that way." 
 
 All at once there was the sound of quiet foot- 
 steps under the loft coming from the back entrance. 
 
 "Here they come," whispered Billie. "Give 
 them the whole thing now." 
 
 Just as the steps came beneath he pushed over 
 the stack of hay. Immediately Dora followed 
 with a shower of corn, and then more hay from 
 Billie, and then more corn, and lastly, Billie set 
 free the great white owl which he and Bob had 
 caught one day in the barn, and with big fright- 
 ened eyes, and flapping wings, it fluttered help- 
 lessly after the hay and corn, and the two bold 
 defenders danced in howling glee about the loft, 
 at the frantic scrambling and muffled cries for 
 help that rose from below. All at once the giv.-it 
 window at the side of the loft was bunged open,
 
 62 Rook's Nest 
 
 and there on the ladder were Muggins, the Lion 
 and Winifred, all ready to make a grand onslaught 
 
 The noise below went on. 
 
 Billie and Dora looked at each other in horri- 
 fied dismay. 
 
 If the enemy were there on the ladder, whom 
 had they smotherd under the hay ? 
 
 " It's only Avis," Dora faltered, " or or Rob." 
 
 "What's the matter?" cried Muggins, gaily, 
 holding her skirts about her for a jump, and then 
 suddenly she stopped, staring with wide startled 
 eyes at the barn floor. She was much higher up 
 than Billie or Dora, and had a fine view of the 
 scene below, so when they saw the change in her 
 expression they went to the edge in guilty fear, 
 and hand in hand, peered over. 
 
 There was not the slightest question about the 
 invader's being completely vanquished. He was 
 more. He was overwhelmed. He stood just be- 
 low the loft, hatless and coatless, struggling with 
 corn and hayseeds that had lodged in his hair, his 
 ears, and down his collar. Where there was no 
 corn there was hay, and where there was no hay 
 there was corn, and the Enchanted Goblin had 
 left the marks of its claws on his hands and face. 
 
 "It isn't Rob," said Dora, in an awestruck 
 whisper. 
 
 " Not even a tramp," gasped Billie, and as the
 
 The Palace of a Thousand Delights 63 
 
 stranger glanced up to see where the hidden foe 
 was, his eyes rested on the big window whero 
 Muggins stood like a new kind of angel ready to 
 take a drop to earth. 
 
 " How do you do ? " he said, with a pleasant 
 laugh. " I didn't know that you expected a caller. 
 I guess there is some mistake." 
 
 "I I don't know," began Muggins, looking 
 helplessly from him to Billie, when the latter 
 came courageously to the rescue. 
 
 " I thought you were Muggins, you know," he 
 said, confidentially. 
 
 " Well, whoever Muggins is, he or she has my 
 hearty sympathy," replied the stranger, his hearty 
 laugh sounding strangely in the old barn, " and I 
 think that Muggins owes me a debt of gratitude 
 for bearing Muggins' punishment." 
 
 "That's Muggins up there," Billie explained, 
 with his most winning air of frankness, pointing 
 to the window. " Who are you ? " 
 
 " Oh, Billie, don't be so rude," said Muggins, 
 her face flushing hotly. 
 
 "That's all right, Miss Muggins," returned the 
 newcomer, " he has a right to ask. I am the new 
 minister at the chapel and my name is Keith." 
 
 "Just plain Keith or Mr. Keith?" asked Dora, 
 with friendly interest. 
 
 "Allyn Keith," he replied.
 
 64 Rook's Nest 
 
 ""Wait a minute," said Billie, "and we'll all 
 come down, Mr. Keith." 
 
 Muggins had already vanished from the window, 
 and Dora followed Billie down the ladder in very 
 undignified haste to do the honors of the place to 
 the new rector. 
 
 " I'm awfully sorry," said Billie, apologetically, 
 when he had shaken hands with Mr. Keith and 
 helped him to get rid of some of the hay and corn. 
 " We were having a fight, you know, and you came 
 right where we expected Muggins to come." 
 
 Mr. Keith laughed, and declared that it did not 
 make a bit of difference, that on the whole he 
 rather enjoyed the joke himself. 
 
 Billie scrutinized him approvingly. He was 
 young and smooth-faced, with dark-grey eyes, and 
 fair wavy hair, " just a leetle red, as if it had been, 
 and then changed its mind," Dora said afterward. 
 His eye-glasses had been knocked off in the scuffle 
 with the Enchanted Goblin, but Billie found them 
 uninjured, and when he had replaced them and 
 stopped laughing, Mr. Keith presented quite a 
 clerical appearance. 
 
 "Pretty jolly sort, for a minister," Billie in- 
 wardly decided, and liked the clergyman on the 
 spot. 
 
 Avis stood in the garden, cool and fresh, in her 
 pretty clean lawn dress. She had been sewing
 
 The Palace of a Thousand Delights 65 
 
 under the trees when Mr. Keith came to call, and 
 when he had asked for Miss Randall, she had said 
 that her sister was in the barn, and he had in- 
 sisted upon seeking her himself. There was an 
 amused little twinkle in Avis' soft eyes when she 
 met him on his return with Billie and Dora, one 
 on each side. 
 
 " Did you find her, Mr. Keith ? " she asked, in- 
 nocently. 
 
 " No, not Miss Randall," he replied. " I found 
 only these two, and plenty of hay to lavish on un- 
 offending strangers or on Muggins." 
 
 " Oh, Muggins is Miss Randall," Billie hastened 
 to explain. 
 
 Mr. Keith looked surprised and puzzled. 
 
 "Muggins the little brown-eyed girl at the 
 window Miss Randall ? " he said. 
 
 "Yes, that's Muggins," Dora said, "Marjorie 
 Cherrington Randall, and this whole place is hers, 
 and she is Princess of the Castle." 
 
 " What castle ? " enquired Mr. Keith. 
 
 "Castle Rattletibang," replied the Lamb, 
 promptly, " and Billie and I are Lord and Lady 
 of the Palace of a Thousand Delights, and that's 
 the barn." 
 
 " Well, my lady, if that is one of the delights 
 you greeted me with, you may keep the other nine 
 hundred and ninety-nine," said Mr. Keith, as he
 
 66 Rook's Nest 
 
 turned to look at Marjorie coming up the path. 
 She had stopped to put on her shoes, and though 
 her hair was flying after a fashion all its own, and 
 hay-wisps were plentiful all over her dress, still 
 there was something about the erect head, and 
 straight earnest gaze of her brown eyes, that made 
 Mr. Keith change his opinion of Muggins. 
 
 "I am stopping at the Rogers farm," he said, 
 when they were all seated unceremoniously on the 
 grass in the garden, " and I want to begin calling 
 on my parishioners at once." 
 
 "You're pretty young to be a minister, aren't 
 you ? " Dora asked. " You don't look a bit like 
 old Mr. Thurston at the church where we used to 
 go ; does he, Muggins ? " 
 
 Mr. Keith shielded Muggins' embarrassment by 
 a quick reply, and after further talk about the 
 little chapel, and a promise from all to attend its 
 services, he rose to depart. 
 
 "Ask him," whispered Dora, nudging Billie 
 mysteriously. Billie looked doubtful a moment, 
 but finally acquiesced. 
 
 " Say, if you aren't too busy to-morrow, come 
 over here. We're going to have a jollification a 
 regular circus, you know, in the barn, I mean the 
 Palace, and we want you to see the fun, too." 
 
 " I will come, surely," replied Mr. Keith, as he 
 took his leave.
 
 The Palace of a Thousand Delights 67 
 
 " How nice it will be to have a little church so 
 near," Marjorie said that night. The two girls 
 were sitting in their nightgowns, combing their 
 hair. It had always been their favorite time for a 
 comfortable chat of mingled confidences and ex- 
 changed opinions, and to-night Avis was brighter 
 than usual. 
 
 "I think it will be splendid," she answered, 
 emphatically. " Isn't Mr Keith nice ? " 
 
 "Pretty nice. He took the joke well. Billie 
 says some folks would have been tearing mad." 
 
 "Not a clergyman," Avis returned, serenely, 
 " and," after a pause, " how different he is from 
 Bob Kogers." 
 
 Marjorie telt slightly nettled over the compari- 
 son, and her curls were pulled hard as she an- 
 swered slowly : 
 
 " Well, for my part, I don't know. If you mean 
 that Bob doesn't wear eye-glasses, nor a long cler- 
 ical coat, why then I suppose he's different, but if 
 you mean it the other way, Avis, I'd have to see 
 the two hearts together to tell for sure. Good- 
 night" 
 
 " Good-night," said Avis, gently. " You know 
 you said yourself that princes came in queer dis- 
 guises." 
 
 " Oh, do go to sleep, you girls in there," called 
 Billie, sleepily. "How do you suppose a fellow
 
 68 Rook's Nest 
 
 can get to sleep with you two going it like sixty. 
 To be continued in the morning." 
 
 Muggins threw a pillow at the grumbler, which 
 was instantly returned with fervor, and then the 
 castle was quiet for the night, though its princess 
 lay awake long, thinking hard over many things.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 The Circus Queen 
 
 " Now, then, Billie," Muggins said at the break- 
 fast-table the following morning, "I want to know 
 why you invited Mr. Keith here to-day ? If you 
 think that he will be allowed to see any of Dora's 
 or your wild performances, why, you're mistaken," 
 and she shook her head at the smiling youth op- 
 posite her, " I don't intend that the new minister 
 shall be shocked at us so soon, sir." 
 
 Billie beamed on her in pitying tolerance. 
 
 "Never you mind, Muggins," he returned, 
 blandly. " At three sharp we open the doors and 
 you may all come in then ; but you won't know a 
 blessed thing beforehand, not if the court knows 
 itself." 
 
 Rob was in the secret, at least, so the Owl an- 
 nounced, after she and Reggie had sat in patient 
 anticipation on the side fence all the morning 
 watching the barn, for they had at last been re- 
 warded by the sight of Rob mounted on Sinbad, 
 making his way by stealth to the Palace. This 
 
 latter edifice was securely guarded against assault 
 
 69
 
 70 Rook's Nest 
 
 now, for the ladder had been recovered by the 
 Lamb's forethought in the excitement of the pre- 
 vious afternoon, and the whole place was impreg- 
 nable. 
 
 About noon, Bob went back to the farm, and re- 
 turned with old Uncle Tom, Mr. Rogers' ancient 
 gray, warranted harmless, Billie had said ; and the 
 curiosity of the watchers on the fence rose to 
 fever heat at the muffled sounds of stamping and 
 thumping which followed. 
 
 Luncheon came, and with it two dishevelled, 
 wearied mortals who looked as if they had been 
 through the wars, but emerged gloriously trium- 
 phant. Afterward Billie rushed to the house foi 
 newspapers and a paper of tacks, and Marjorie 
 was just in time to catch him stealing the hoops 
 off the rain barrel. 
 
 " But I got three, all the same," he said, exult- 
 antly, on his return to the palace. " Just the right 
 size." 
 
 At half-past two Mr. Keith came. 
 
 " "Whatever happens, I want you to know be- 
 forehand that we are perfectly guiltless," Muggins 
 told him, her brown eyes full of suppressed mer- 
 riment, when he found she and Avis out in the 
 garden awaiting the summons. 
 
 Mr. Keith laughingly agreed to reserve all 
 criticism for the Lamb and Billie, and, as he spoke,
 
 The Qrcus Queen 71 
 
 his eyes glanced from the figure swaying idly to 
 and fro in Winnie's swing, to the little one lean- 
 ing against the tree trunk, and Marjorie flushed 
 as she read his thought. 
 
 " Every one thinks Avis is older than I," she 
 said, impulsively, answering his unspoken thought. 
 " She is so dignified, you know, and taller, too, but 
 then she is clever, and it always seems to me as 
 if clever people were older than just ordinary 
 folks." 
 
 " Clever ? " repeated Mr. Keith, regarding Avis 
 in mock dismay. " Anything startling ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, not yet," Muggins answered, hastily, 
 wondering how Avis could look so cool and disin- 
 terested under the ordeaL " She paints a little, 
 and plays a little, and writes oh, whole piles, as 
 Billie says. And some day " 
 
 " The greatest show on earth is now about to 
 begin ! " shouted a stentorian voice from the barn 
 as the great doors swung slowly open as if moved 
 by invisible agency. "Step right up, ladies and 
 gentlemen. Get your tickets before the rush! 
 Don't push ! " 
 
 There was a frantic rush from the fence as the 
 Owl and Lion started on a perfect gallop for the 
 barn, and the rest followed more slowly. 
 
 "Everybody sit where they can find a seat," 
 called Billie, from the back of the loft, when the
 
 72 Rook's Nest 
 
 audience entered. "Mr. Keith, take the meal- 
 box." 
 
 Avis shared the mealbox with the clergyman, 
 and the two children climbed to the tops of the 
 stall posts, as box seats. Marjorie insisted upon 
 standing, "so as to be ready when they break 
 their necks," she said. 
 
 " There will be three parts to this show," an- 
 nounced Bob, appearing on the edge of the loft, 
 his violin tucked under one arm, and a huge 
 bouquet of lilacs spreading itself over his shoulder. 
 " All who desire to see the side show will please 
 climb the ladder, and come up here " 
 
 "I want to thee the thide thow," called the 
 Lion, starting to scramble down from the post, 
 but Winnie clung to his collar, and his sudden 
 ardor cooled rapidly under stress of circumstances. 
 
 "The regular circus will take place in the 
 ring " continued Hob. 
 
 " Whereth the wing ? " asked Keggie, mildly. 
 
 "Bight in front of you, young man," replied 
 the ringmaster, severely. "If you would use 
 your eyes as well as you do your tongue, you 
 would see it. And I want to say right here, that 
 the wild unicorn from the Sahara dines daily on 
 youths of tender years, nice dainty, succulent 
 youths like a certain person present." 
 
 Here the Lion evinced an urgent desire to get
 
 The Qrcus Queen 73 
 
 near Muggins, and it was with some difficulty that 
 order was restored. 
 
 "Lastly," Rob started in once more. "Last, 
 but far the least, ladies and gentlemen, there will 
 be a wild west show after the regular perform- 
 ance, held in the adjoining prairie. Now, all who 
 wish to see the side show step right this way." 
 
 A large tin pan was at this point handed out to 
 the ringmaster, and he beat a tom-tom on it while 
 he declaimed in a high pitched tone : 
 
 " Come and see the living George and Martha 
 Washington 1 Climb the ladder and see the only 
 educated spiders in existence! Come right up 
 and talk to the wild girl of Jamboree, and witness 
 her marvelous taming of the Wolligog " 
 
 " Whatth the Wolligog? " gasped the Lion, his 
 innocent blue eyes widening as he drew back sus- 
 piciously from the ladder. 
 
 " The Wolligog is the largest polliwog in exist- 
 ence," replied Bob, gravely. "Don't miss the 
 only chance of a lifetime to view the only white 
 owl that Noah let out of the ark, the wild and 
 woolly Enchanted Goblin. Step this way to the 
 side show 1 " 
 
 The ladder was climbed by all, and Billie was 
 waiting eagerly to show his treasures to the crowd. 
 Their name was legion, too. One corner of the 
 loft had been planked in so as to hide its contents
 
 74 Rook's Nest 
 
 from any one below, and here was the secret 
 domain of the Lamb, and her bold comrade, here 
 was the treasure chamber of the Palace of a Thou- 
 sand Delights. 
 
 On a board at one side was a long array of 
 Billie's bugs. Yery particular was he, too, as to 
 their mode of death and arrangement thereafter. 
 The Lamb was never allowed to kill a specimen 
 for the simple reason that she " squashed " the 
 anatomy beyond recognition. Now Billie prided 
 himself on his ways and means of execution, and 
 had certain special ones for certain specimens ; so 
 that, when their spirit had fled and transfixed by a 
 deadly pin, each served to fill a place in some of 
 the many boxes that were their tombs, they still 
 retained that loveliness of form which had been 
 theirs when in the flesh. 
 
 There were butterflies in abundance, from great, 
 scalloped-winged, orange-spotted beauties down to 
 tiny dots in pale yellow and blue. 
 
 Then came the moths, and of these the hum- 
 ming-bird moth was king, and the rest but sober- 
 garbed servitors ; and then there were beetles and 
 gold bugs, and all manner of things that creep 
 and crawl and fly, things without law or reason 
 for being except that they are dainty and perfect, 
 and love their brief life as much as William loved 
 his.
 
 The Circus Queen 75 
 
 After the specimens came the birds, *nd here 
 Muggins spoke her mind freely. It was a shame 
 to cage tho dear, beautiful creatures, she declared, 
 and shut them up in that old barn, and Billie hov- 
 ered about uneasily as he saw the tender pity in 
 her eyes when she spoke to his prize bluejay with 
 its handsome topnot, and to the crow that was 
 just learning to whistle, for he knew that Muggins 
 would speedily find a way to set them free. 
 
 There were two owls, the big white one, and a 
 little one with a red bronze plumage, and tufts on 
 his head like horns. 
 
 "That's the Enchanted Goblin," Dora said, 
 "and the little fellow's a wizard in disguise. 
 Billie read that owl wizards didn't have any heart, 
 and if they did have one, whoever eat it became a 
 wi/ard, and he wanted to kill Toots and cut him 
 all up, and eat his heart" 
 
 "Why, Billie," exclaimed Avis, "I don't think 
 that's nice." 
 
 " Traid I'd know more than your royal high- 
 ness ? " Billie queried, with a grin, as he went on 
 to the cage of the red and gray squirrels. These 
 and the woodchuck had come from Bob's store 
 of pets, and were left severely alone since two 
 sharp slim teeth had found a resting-place in 
 Dora's thumb when she tried to show her love for 
 a " dear little chipmunk."
 
 76 Rook's Nest 
 
 " I don't see your educated spiders, Billie," Mr. 
 Keith said. 
 
 Billie had forgotten all about them, it appeared, 
 but they were there all the same, and Dora 
 reached under some boxes, and drew forth two 
 bottles, chunky, round-topped bottles with a large 
 spider in each. Such plump, speckled, ferocious- 
 eyed fellows, too. 
 
 " We caught them up in a corner of the barn," 
 Billie explained, " and some day we're going to 
 take the corks out, and let them fight. Rob says 
 they fight like stags, get a good grip and hang on 
 till they die. What do you think of the side 
 show?" 
 
 " I want to thee the wild girl and the thnaketh," 
 Reggie said, wistfully. 
 
 " That's me," cried Dora, climbing hastily up 
 on top of a barrel. " Bring forth my Wolligog ! " 
 
 The keeper of the Wolligog at once passed a 
 small box up to the wild girl of Jamboree, and, 
 amidst breathless excitement, she opened it, and 
 produced the Wolligog, a tiny black garter snake, 
 not more than three inches long, with a band of 
 bright yellow about his neck. 
 
 " This wonderful creature," Bob began, knock- 
 ing for order, "possesses the strange power, 
 ladies and gentlemen, of increasing or decreas- 
 ing his size at will At times he becomes a per-
 
 The Grcus Queen 77 
 
 feet giant, as tall as a a what did you say, 
 Dora?" 
 
 "As a telegraph pole," replied the wild girl, 
 promptly. 
 
 "Yes, exactly so, as a telegraph pole, while at 
 other times he is the size you now see him. It is 
 impossible to explain this marvelous power, and 
 if any one doubts our word they are earnestly re- 
 quested to remain and wait until his snakeship 
 takes it into his head to swelL" 
 
 " I want to thee him thwell, Billie," announced 
 the Lion, hopefully, but it suddenly appeared that 
 his snakeship never would swell to the size of a 
 telegraph pole when little boys with blue eyes and 
 yellow curls were around, and every one went 
 down-stairs again so as to be in time for the grand 
 entree. 
 
 The ring was a large enclosure on the main 
 floor of the barn. At the back of it were the 
 stalls, and there was a wide entrance between. 
 Above, wide wooden beams stretched from the loft 
 to the side of the barn, and from two of these 
 hung two home-made trapezes at which Marjorie 
 looked askance, with visions of flying leaps and 
 broken bones in her mind's eye. 
 
 Bob descended from th loft, and stood on a 
 box in the centre of the ring. 
 
 " All ready 1 " he shouted, raising his violin to
 
 78 Rook's Nest 
 
 his throat, and at the sound of music, the stall 
 door was banged violently open, and with stately 
 tread and flowing mane, Sinbad paced slowly in 
 with Billie on his back 
 
 Billie ? Not so. Not common, everyday Billie, 
 but a beetle-browed ferocious looking border 
 ruffian with [Bob's big broad brimmed farm hat 
 perched rakishly on the back of his head, its 
 crown wreathed in goose quills and rooster 
 feathers. Slung carelessly across his saddle bow 
 was Mr. Bogers' old rusty shot gun that had made 
 many a crow or hawk give up the ghost, and up 
 and down each side of his blue overalls were rib- 
 bon bows of divers colors fastened on in Mexican 
 cowboy style. 
 
 Even Sinbad was in festal array with balls of 
 yellow dandelions dangling in his mane, and a 
 wreath about his arched neck. 
 
 The music ceased. The rider halted his noble 
 charger before the box, and Bob began his little 
 say. 
 
 " This, ladies and gentlemen, is the far-famed 
 scout and terror of the plains, Deadshot Billie, 
 likewise known throughout the West as Battlebox 
 Bill, Woolly Willie, Billie the Buster, etc., etc., etc. 
 If the youth of tender years feels his yellow locks 
 rising in apprehension, and thereupon feels called 
 upon to make a demonstration and interrupt this
 
 The Qrcus Queen 79 
 
 show, Deadshot Billie shall perforate his slender 
 form with bold, bad bullets, that's all." 
 
 The howl that had trembled on the Lion's lip 
 as he heard of the terror of the plains died away, 
 and he stared at the apparition in tense silence. 
 
 "Deadshot Billie," went on the ringmaster, 
 " has gone through escapades which raise the hair 
 on end. Six times has the dauntless hero been 
 scalped, four times burned at the stake, and scores 
 of times been left for dead on the field of many a 
 border battle, riddled with bullets at the hands of 
 the savage redmen. But still he lives to wield his 
 deadly weapon that has never been known to miss 
 the mark of his eagle eye. The two large boxes 
 which he draws after him contain the trophies of 
 iiis victories. In one he carries two thousand and 
 forty-one bullets taken from his own body under 
 the most exciting circumstances, while the other 
 contains no less than three thousand, sixty-five 
 and a half front teeth won in gallant fights from 
 Indians. The savage custom of scalping, Dead- 
 shot Billie disdains. The victim of his rule is 
 merely called upon to render up one lone tooth as 
 a proof of his death. Billie, kindly shake the 
 boxes for the public so that they may hear the 
 teeth and bullets rattle, and all doubts be dis- 
 pelled, as I fancy I heard a sneering laugh from 
 the lady on the mealbox."
 
 8o Rook's Nest 
 
 The bold scout graciously jerked the rope at- 
 tached to the soap boxes he trailed behind him, 
 and they at once gave forth a deep-toned rattle 
 that quite satisfied the public. 
 
 "Our Wild West Show," continued Bob, "is 
 under the entire direction and control of Deadshot 
 Billie, and he will himself give a special exhibition 
 of taming a bucking broncho, of lassoing the fierce 
 buffalo on his native plains, and of holding a band 
 of Apaches at bay in a canyon gorge. Don't fail 
 to see this thrilling part of the performance." 
 
 " We won't," called the Lion, reassuringly, and 
 the wild west hero rode about the ring three times, 
 waved his gun, lifted his sombrero in graceful 
 salute to the ladies, and retired. 
 
 "The next appearance will be the $10,000 
 Beauty," shouted Rob, "mounted on the only 
 snow-white unicorn in captivity. The Beauty was 
 stolen by Turks when but a child, and was rescued 
 by the gallant gentleman who has just left us." 
 
 " Has he got the Turk's tooth ? " asked Winnie, 
 interestedly. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, he has, and the unicorn was 
 lassoed by Deadshot Billie on the desert of 
 Sahara." 
 
 The violin struck up a regular breakdown mel- 
 ody, and in came old Uncle Tom with his slow 
 lumbering gait, dignified, and a trifle resentful of
 
 'THE UNICORN WOULDN'T RUN IF You SHOT OFF FIREWORKS 
 UNDER HIM"
 
 The Qrcus Queen 81 
 
 the pranks played upon him. The boys had 
 strapped an old ox horn on his forehead, and on 
 his back sat the Lamb in all her glory. She had 
 on one of Marjorie's long skirts, a red calico one, 
 and Avis' pet silk sash wound about her head for 
 a turban. She was very rosy and elated, this 
 $10,000 Beauty, and as for riding the fiery uni- 
 corn, from the desert of Sahara ! Why, it seemed 
 that that was but one of the little recreations she 
 took before breakfast 
 
 "Up with the hoops!" cried the ringmaster, 
 dropping his violin, and seizing the rain barrel 
 hoops covered with newspapers. 
 
 " Oh, Rob, I'm afraid she'll fall," Marjorie ex- 
 claimed, as the Lamb rose slowly to her feet, and 
 balanced herself on Uncle Tom's broad back. 
 
 " No, she won't, either," Bob said, calmly, " the 
 unicorn wouldn't run if you shot off fireworks un- 
 der him. Please don't disturb the performance, 
 madam." 
 
 The hoops were raised. The ringmaster yelled 
 " Hi ! Hi ! " and poked the unicorn in the ribs 
 until he consented to move forward. Under the 
 first hoop he stopped. There was a thrilling mo- 
 ment of suspense as the paper ripped and the 
 Beauty thrust her head through. One arm and a 
 foot followed with cautious deliberation, then their 
 mates, and lo ! the fair circus queen stood once
 
 82 Rook's Nest 
 
 more on the back of her fiery steed, smiling and 
 unharmed, and kissing her hand in response to 
 the deafening applause. 
 
 Just here a trifling delay occurred, as it required 
 the united efforts of Beauty and ringmaster to 
 awaken the unicorn, and coax his straying hoofs 
 to the next hoop, but at last all three .were shat- 
 tered, and the lady retired with fearless mien, 
 albeit with a very red face, and a much disarranged 
 turban. 
 
 Brilliant acts followed in quick succession. 
 The audience rose as one and cheered lustily when 
 Signer Slipporino dangled recklessly from the 
 trapeze, or playfully twined one leg around the 
 bar and swung to and fro, tempting providence in 
 a new way. To be sure the Signor bore a slight 
 resemblance to Deadshot Billie, but it was not so 
 very noticeable. 
 
 The " Cherry Act " was announced as a feat 
 of fearful daring. The Signor hung by his knees, 
 and caught cherries in his mouth, again and again, 
 and, after a little by-play, the Circassian girl stood 
 on her hands and caught those thrown by the 
 Signor, but her hair became so unmanageable 
 that she had to retire precipitately, and the ring- 
 master said there would now be an intermis- 
 sion, after which the Wild West Show would 
 commence.
 
 The Qrcus Queen 83 
 
 " Why don't you do something hard ? " asked 
 Winnie, mildly. She and the Lion had pene- 
 trated " behind the scenes " in order to see exactly 
 how matters stood. 
 
 Dora did not deign to reply. She pretented to 
 be exceedingly busy folding up Avis' scarf, and it 
 was not until the two had gone that she told Billie 
 of the taunt 
 
 " AYhy didn't they do something hard? " 
 
 The two performers stood and gazed at each 
 other in moody silence, and then the vials of 
 Billie's wrath broke forth. The very idea, when 
 for days and days, they had been practicing the 
 wonderful feats. Perhaps she thought it was easy 
 to wriggle around a trapeze bar. Billie supposed 
 that she had an idea that riding a horse was like 
 rolling off a log. You just did it, that was alL 
 Very well. He would show her. He would mn 
 with Sinbad. He would gallop madly. Perhaps 
 he would even jump the fence. 
 
 "Yes, but what shall I do?" asked the Lamb, 
 dolefully. 
 
 " You can ride on Tom all the time." 
 
 " I don't want to ride on that old thing. I want 
 to ride on something that might run if it took a 
 notion to," she replied, crossly. 
 
 " Well, you can't have Sinbad, so that settles 
 it," Billie said, decidedly. "He he's kind of
 
 84 Rook's Nest 
 
 dangerous, and I promised Bob to keep a tight 
 rein on him, you know. Don't you want to come 
 out and see me lasso the scarecrow ? " 
 
 No, she did not. She did not care a bit about 
 old scarecrows. She could lasso them herself. 
 It appeared that the only thing in the world that 
 she wanted was something to ride that could go 
 like sixty and frighten the wits out of the Owl 
 and the Lion. 
 
 " Good-bye," Deadshot Billie called, pleasantly, 
 casting a look over his shoulder at the mournful 
 little figure against the stall, as he rode out on 
 Sinbad to open the Wild West Show. 
 
 Dora went over to the door and peeped out. 
 Everybody was sitting out under the trees in the 
 meadow on the shady side of the barn watching 
 the terror of the plains in his fierce charges at the 
 scarecrow. She thought hard for a moment, and 
 then stole back to the barn, and a moment later 
 the $10,000 Beauty could have been seen racing 
 over the fields the other side of the Palace far out 
 of sight from the spectators. 
 
 It had been the very first week at Eook's Nest, 
 when Dora had discovered the charm of a certain 
 pasture down by the river. One day, on a journey 
 of exploration, she and Billie had gone thus far, 
 and had started across lots, when, all at once, a 
 long-legged, shaggy coated object had sprung up
 
 The Qrcus Queen 85 
 
 from the shade of a big oak, and was off like the 
 wind at sight of them. 
 
 " Whoa ! " howled Billie, as he dashed off in 
 hot pursuit " Deer." 
 
 "No, sir-ree," Dora had said, calmly, as she 
 watched the chase, " plain everyday colt" 
 
 But that same plain everyday colt had given 
 them many a wild chase, and it was a long time 
 before she had made a chum of him. Now, how- 
 ever, he knew her as such a one as himself, a 
 jolly, rollicking comrade, and when she called him 
 to-day, he came tearing at a break-neck pace 
 across the field to her, and Dora felt a thrill of 
 delight 
 
 She had certainly found something that could 
 run. 
 
 " Come along, dear, precious, darling childie," 
 she said, lovingly, and put her arm about his rough 
 neck, and so she led him on to the barn, coaxing 
 and petting him all the way. 
 
 Then Darling was fed some of the sweetest 
 clover, from the edge of the water-trough, and be- 
 fore he knew what had happened to him, Dora 
 had sprung on the trough and was astride his 
 back, both hands clutching his mane. 
 
 There was a single instant of astonishment on 
 the part of Darling, and then he bolted. Luckily 
 the bars were down, and he made straight for the
 
 86 Rook's Nest 
 
 meadow, as Dora had intended he should. The 
 Wild West Show was in full blast when the colt 
 shot in like a streak of greased lightning, and 
 there was a frantic stampede for a place of shelter. 
 
 The Lamb was frightened. She could not have 
 denied it this time. Her heart was pumping in- 
 side of her like a gigantic clock ticking, but she 
 set her teeth, and tried to think it was fun. 
 
 At the very first bound she had thrown herself 
 forward on Darling's neck, and with her arms 
 clasped about his neck, and her knees gripping 
 his sides, she rode like a little Indian. 
 
 "Let him alone," she screamed, as Bob flung 
 off his coat, " I'm all right." 
 
 But Bob thought differently. 
 
 "Hang 011," he called to her. "Put up the 
 bars, Billie." 
 
 But the bold terror of the plains was unfit for 
 further action. Sinbad had reared and plunged 
 aside when the wild creature had darted by him, 
 and Deadshot Billie had landed in the easiest 
 manner possible on a grassy resting-place. 
 
 Mr. Keith turned to the bars, but it was already 
 too late. Once around the meadow Darling saw 
 the open way, and was through it and racing to- 
 ward the home pasture as fast as his legs could 
 carry him. 
 
 "Bob!"
 
 The Circus Queen 87 
 
 It was Marjorie's voice, and the tone of appeal 
 that decided Bob. He had vaulted on Sinbad in 
 an instant, took the fence neatly, and was off, 
 while the rest stood motionless. At first it looked 
 as if he would not reach the runaways, but the 
 shorter cut over the fence had helped him, and he 
 was within two lengths of the colt when the latter 
 shied quickly to escape his pursuer, and when he 
 started again he was riderless and something very 
 still lay on the grass, a little limp something that 
 Rob raised tenderly in his arms and bore back to 
 Marjorie when the sober-faced group hastened to 
 meet him. 
 
 "Is she"- Marjorie's voice choked, and she 
 could not ask the awful question, but Mr. Keith 
 knew what she meant, and shook his head. 
 
 "No, no, not as bad as that," he said, gently, 
 laying one hand on Dora's wrist "She has 
 fainted, that is all, I trust." 
 
 Something in the last two words made the girls' 
 hearts sink with fear, and they followed Bob to 
 the house with white anxious faces. 
 
 " I'll go for the doctor on Sinbad, Margie," Bob 
 said, when he had laid Dora on the lounge. 
 " Don't worry." 
 
 Avis turned to watch him as he galloped off on 
 Sinbad, and queer conflicting thoughts came in 
 her mind about " thut Rogers' bov."
 
 88 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Why didn't you do something ? " she asked 
 Billie, when he came in on tiptoe, his face screwed 
 up with anxious solicitude for his comrade, the 
 poor little circus queen. 
 
 " Gee whiz ! What could I do ? " he demanded, 
 explosively. "Wasn't I scared stiff? Did you 
 want me to chase her on the unicorn ? " 
 
 " N-no, but, Bob," began Avis, but Billie opened 
 his eyes at once. 
 
 " Oho ! So it's Rob, now, is it ? " he cried. 
 " Now that he bustled off like a hero and distin- 
 guished himself, you'll speak well of him, won't 
 you? Well, say, let me tell you something, your 
 royal highness of the Imperial Ink Blot, I think 
 you're a duffer, and if Bob makes up with you 
 after the way you treated him, he'll be a bigger 
 duffer yet. But say," as he turned away without 
 speaking, " bet you five cookies he doesn't make 
 up."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 
 
 " THREE weeks at least before she can walk, and 
 probably it will be longer," was Dr. Tilton's part- 
 ing word, and there was at once a voice heard in 
 Ramah, lifted up in lamentations that would not 
 be comforted, for, as Billie was not in the room, 
 Dora laid her head on Marjorie's shoulder and 
 had a good cry over the verdict. Her left ankle 
 was badly sprained, and for Marjorie's part she 
 was thankful that the injury was no greater. But 
 the Lamb was rebellious over the close confine- 
 ment right in the midst of good times. When 
 Billie entered, however, she was defiant and con- 
 fident still. 
 
 " Want a little colt ride ? " asked Billie, cheerily. 
 " You wait until my foot gets well again, and 
 see whether I do or not," Dora retorted. " If he 
 hadn't stumbled I could have held on." 
 " Well, you hollered, anyway." 
 " 'Cause I was having such a good time." 
 Billie nodded his head wisely, his eyes on the 
 bandaged ankle.
 
 90 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Maybe you'll holler another way pretty soon,'* 
 he said, mysteriously, " and it won't be for fun, 
 neither." 
 
 "Never mind, childie," Muggins said, lovingly, 
 pressing her cheek to the circus queen's pale 
 freckled one. " We'll all help you to have a good 
 time so that you won't get blue or lonesome." 
 
 And they all kept the promise. Such jolly 
 hours as passed now in the little old sitting-room. 
 Bob and Mr. Keith came over every night to help 
 amuse the sufferer. The violin was never forgot- 
 ten, and at the command of Dora, he brought his 
 sketches also. Such comical sketches of the 
 farm, and animals and Billie and all the rest of 
 them, bright, perfect little character bits done to 
 the life with a few hasty strokes of his pencil. 
 
 " Father says it's nonsense," Rob would say, 
 laughingly, when Muggins and the girls praised 
 his work. " He says I'd a sight better be spend- 
 ing my time learning to farm than scribbling." 
 
 For even big, whole-souled Bob had his trou- 
 bles, but he only told them to his mother, and 
 Muggins. Many a quiet little confidence passed 
 in the dim old kitchen at the Nest, with Marjorie 
 mending socks or cooking, and Bob standing in 
 the doorway, telling her of how he wanted his life 
 to go. After all, he would say, father could not 
 understand how he could love the farm, and
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 91 
 
 the beautiful open country and all that, and yet 
 not want to spend life in the quiet routine of sow- 
 ing and reaping, year in and year out. 
 
 " I want to go to the city," Bob would say, 
 stretching out his big strong arms with a smile as 
 if he were going to battle. " I will go surely- 
 some day." 
 
 And Marjorie would nod and agree, and tell him 
 how proud of him they all would be when he be- 
 came a famous artist. 
 
 But these June days were too full of delight to 
 make plans or bother about the future. Who 
 would worry over a career when the roses were 
 flashing out in yellow and pink and deep red from 
 every corner? And when the birds were fairly 
 singing themselves mad over the joy of living, and 
 the sky ever a deep, wondrous blue, spreading 
 over all ? Then there were the evenings, and the 
 long twilight time that came before darkness, and 
 this was the time when the invalid held her court. 
 Bob would play on his violin, and the rest would 
 sit in the dark room at dusk listening to Dora's 
 favorites, over and over, and some of his own, too, 
 sometimes, and outside the hollyhocks, white and 
 yellow and deep pink with red hearts, would nod 
 in at the windows, and to Marjorie all the world 
 seemed so happy and bright, just a glorious place 
 to live in, that was alL
 
 92 Rook's Nest 
 
 Then such a store of new riddles as Mr. Keith 
 would bring, and such fairy stories as he told, 
 with Winifred on one knee and Reggie on the 
 other. All the inhabitants of the Nest liked Allyn 
 Keith ; he was young and boyish, and yet firm, 
 too. 
 
 The Sunday after his call, all save Dora and 
 Muggins, had gone to service at the chapel, and 
 had declared it the nicest little church that they 
 had ever seen. Avis played the organ now. It 
 was the substitute for her loved piano; and on 
 week days when she was missed, Marjorie always 
 knew she could be found in the quiet sunlit 
 church, her hands straying lovingly over the 
 keys, and her face lifted to where the stained 
 glass above the altar caught the sunshine, and 
 threw it down in rainbows of purple and red and 
 gold. 
 
 Marjorie noticed that Bob was far more par- 
 ticular about his appearance than he had formerly 
 been ; but, although he would laugh and talk 
 freely enough when he was with her or the chil- 
 dren, as soon as her royal highness appeared, he 
 would turn silent and find a quick excuse for 
 leaving, and Billie gloated over it, and told Avis 
 every day he had won those five cookies all right. 
 
 So the weeks passed, and still Dora's ankle was 
 far from being well, and the Lamb fussed and
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 93 
 
 worried until Mr. Keith named her the " maiden 
 all forlorn." 
 
 " I don't care what you call me," Dora mur- 
 mured, dismally, giving her pillow a vigorous 
 thump, and pressing her face down on it "You 
 are all having such a happy time, and here I am 
 shut up in the house day after day." 
 
 Billie had made up a new riddle that he tried 
 on every one. 
 
 " What is it that Dora is that she isn't ? " 
 
 It never failed to mystify the victim, and no one 
 had ever been able to guess it. After a proper 
 delay he would explain. 
 
 " Why, she's a patient, you see, only she isn't 
 patient, you know. See the joke ? " 
 
 The Owl and the Lion brought all their treas- 
 ures willingly and laid them as a tender votive of- 
 fering at the Lamb's feet, and Billie was installed 
 as chief clown of the court, rising to the demands 
 of his exalted position nobly. 
 
 The imperial fowls were brought in daily to pay 
 their homage to her ladyship, and when Martha 
 Washington had laid her first egg, it was poached, 
 and served in state on toast for the Lamb's dainty 
 repast. 
 
 Mrs. Rogers sent dainties every day by Rob, 
 but still the invalid fussed and fidgeted, and re- 
 belled until at last Billie hit upon a plan for
 
 94 Rook's Nest 
 
 amusing her, and passing the time. Secret con- 
 sultations were held between him and Rob, and 
 after a couple of days they set to work. 
 
 " What on earth are you going to do, boys ? " 
 Marjorie asked, when she saw them carefully 
 measuring the distance from the loft window in 
 the barn to the side window of the sitting-room 
 beside which Dora lay on the lounge. 
 
 " Never you mind, princess," said Billie, loftily. 
 " This doesn't concern you castle dwellers at all. 
 Just you wait and see." 
 
 After they had measured the distance, Rob pro- 
 duced a new ball of strong waxed twine, and Mar- 
 jorie's workbasket was rifled of two large empty 
 spools which once had had basting thread on 
 them, but had been saved to serve as wheels for a 
 new state carriage which the Lion had in his 
 mind's eye for one of his doll family. Reggie, 
 however, was altogether too much interested in 
 the mysterious thing which was being constructed, 
 to resent the loss. 
 
 When Rob appeared at her window and started 
 to hammer hooks into the woodwork, Dora at 
 once wanted to know what was going on ; but her 
 questions were met by a stolid indifference which 
 set her ladyship nearly frantic. Securely held by 
 the hooks, one of the spools revolved on an axis 
 made of one of Mrs. Rogers' knitting needles,
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 95 
 
 sacrificed for the good of the cause. Up at the 
 barn window Billie had performed a similar opera- 
 tion, and now, after frequent struggles with inter- 
 fering lilac bushes, and apple trees, the twine was 
 strung over the two spools. 
 
 " It looks like a telegraph line, doesn't it ? " said 
 Dora, excitedly, as she squinted one eye to trace 
 the course of the string over the tree tops. 
 
 Billie smiled in a knowing way, and winked 
 solemnly, as he started after Rob for the barn. 
 
 " Watch the line," was all he said, and they did 
 watch, with all their might, Winnie and the Lion 
 sitting under the window with their eyes fixed on 
 the slender lines, and indoors beside Dora stood 
 Avis and Marjorie, as eager as the little ones to 
 see what the surprise of the boys might be. Not 
 a word was spoken. The suspense was getting 
 awful, when all at once the Lion shouted ; 
 
 " Here it cometh ! Here it cometh ! " 
 
 A swift something shot down the line from the 
 barn, and stopped with a rebounding bump at 
 Dora's window. 
 
 "Why, it's only a box," she said, eyeing it 
 gingerly. 
 
 " Open it, goosie, open it," said Marjorie, laugh- 
 ing at her hesitation. So Dora reached out her 
 hand and removed the cover from the little tin 
 box that had come over the lines. There was only
 
 96 Rook's Nest 
 
 a piece of paper folded inside, and a flash of dis- 
 appointment showed in her face as she opened it, 
 and read in Billie's large, sprawling handwriting. 
 
 " To the Captive of the Castle : Greeting. Have 
 heard of jour falling into the hands of the enemy. 
 Will fight soon. Palace of T. D. O. K Answer 
 by secret cable. Lord William." 
 
 " Oh, what fun," exclaimed the Lamb, when she 
 had finished, her eyes bright with happiness over 
 the new novelty. " Give me a pencil, somebody, 
 quick." 
 
 A pencil was at hand, and in a minute a reply 
 was sent back to the anxious watchers at the Pal- 
 ace, while the Lion danced for joy as the little box 
 sped on its way. 
 
 " To Lord William : Salutations," thus ran the 
 answer. " Lots of fun. Wire often. Wish I could 
 be sent in the box. Can furnish plan of Castle 
 any time you want to storm it. Where is the 
 Wolligog ? Lady Lambkin." 
 
 " Hurrah ! " shouted Billie, when he had read 
 it aloud. " She caught on all right. You next, 
 Bob." 
 
 So the next message was from Bob, and the 
 soul of the fair captive was exceeding glad, when 
 she saw it. 
 
 " To the Beautiful Tamer of Coal Black Colts. 
 Dungeon 1001, Castle Battletibang : Wolligog
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 97 
 
 seized by the Blue Dwarfs of Crystal Cave. Wants 
 witch spell from you at once. Will change him- 
 self into a dynamite bomb, and blow up the cave. 
 Where will he be after the explosion ? Answer 
 quick. General Ked Rover." 
 
 A long drawn " Ah h h," came from the little 
 group of listeners, and the Owl cried eagerly : 
 
 " Oh, tell him quick not to let the Wolligog ex- 
 plode, Dora, 'cause there wouldn't be anything left, 
 you know." 
 
 The Wolligog's fate being thus settled, the wire 
 flashed back : 
 
 " No dynamite. Send Enchanted Goblin to the 
 rescue. See that wild colt is captured. Give him 
 griffin wings and a saddle of thistle-down for me 
 to escape on. Lady Lambkin." 
 
 Back and forth all the afternoon went the little 
 box, and the exciting news which it bore of thrill- 
 ing adventures on sea, land, and air, got the poor 
 captive lady into a very turbulent state of mind. 
 Finally they grew so marvelous that Winnie, as 
 the lovely Fairy Kissabelle sent some on her own 
 account Red Rover wired in haste : 
 
 "Fairy Kissabella, Caramel Castle, Sunshine- 
 ville, Skyland : Lady Lambkin starving in dun- 
 geon. Advise by return box." 
 
 " To His Most Esteemed Highness, Red Rover, 
 Palace of a Thousand Delights : Give her beetles'
 
 98 Rook's Nest 
 
 tongues powdered on rose petal salad. Also leg 
 of grasshopper served with a boiled currant. Send 
 my diamond wand at once. Kissabelle." 
 
 "In haste. Diamond wand stolen by pixies. 
 "Will wire special goblin police to pursue robbers. 
 K. K" 
 
 " Supper now ready," called Marjorie from the 
 kitchen, while the rest were breathlessly awaiting 
 the return of the Goblin police. 
 
 " Just a minute, just a minute more, Muggins," 
 pleaded the Owl. "Wait till we get one more, 
 please." 
 
 So the cook herself came to witness the climax, 
 and this time the box came more slowly as if 
 weighted with an unusually large cargo. 
 
 "It's heavy," Dora cried, wonderingly, and she 
 took off the cover as if she expected the spring of 
 a jack-in-the-box. The telegram was there, but 
 there was something else, a queer little black some- 
 thing that hid itself as far as possible in a corner 
 at sight of all the eager eyes staring down on it. 
 Dora seized the telegram and read excitedly : 
 
 "To the Lady Lambkin. Wolligog rescued. 
 Terrible battle. Enclosed please find pixie kiug. 
 Taken captive and enchanted. Do not break spell. 
 Eed Eover." 
 
 " Don't you know what it is, girls ? " Billie 
 cried, bursting enthusiastically into the room. " It's
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 99 
 
 a turtle, just a little fellow for a cent Rob found 
 him down on a log on the river bank. Isn't he a 
 dandy?" 
 
 Dora raised the royal captive out of the box, 
 and held him on the palm of her hand. Such a 
 tiny chap he was, not much larger than half a dol- 
 lar, with bright eyes and out stretched head. 
 
 " What shall I do with him ? " Dora asked, 
 helplessly, and Billie laughed aloud at the display 
 of ignorance. Did she think turtles were kept in 
 cages to sit on a perch and sing like canaries? 
 Perhaps she wanted to dress him up in doll 
 clothes, and hold him in her arms to rock to sleep. 
 He wouldn't be surprised at anything the Lamb 
 did, only, as a gentle hint in favor of saving the 
 pixie king's life he would suggest a bowl filled 
 with water, and having some sand in the bottom, 
 and a plentiful diet of flies to tempt the pixie 
 king's dainty appetite. All of which w r as done, and 
 the bowl placed on the window-sill at the Lamb's 
 elbow, where she could exchange confidences with 
 her new pet So it came to pass that, between 
 operating the secret cable, and catching flies on 
 the window pane for the unlimited desire of the 
 pixie king, the days of captivity passed faster for 
 the fair lady of the Palace, and she was kept from 
 absolutely pining in her castle dungeon; until, 
 when July came, it brought the day when she was
 
 ioo Rook's Nest 
 
 to go out once more not just to be brought out 
 into the garden to sit there and watch the others 
 have a good time, but the day when she could 
 walk and run again like the same old Dora. 
 
 It was to be on Saturday afternoon, and Mug- 
 gins was hurrying with all her household duties 
 as fast as she could so as to give her undivided 
 attention to the recovered circus queen. 
 
 " Say, Muggins," Billie said, in a low, confiden- 
 tial tone as he paused at the kitchen door. " Just 
 keep the lamb quiet, will you, and out of sight of 
 the back road through the fields. "We've got a 
 secret." 
 
 "Oh, you're always fussing over a secret," 
 laughed Marjoric, as she looked up, flushed and 
 warm from the baking. " I suppose Bob's in it, 
 too." 
 
 "Course he is," returned Billie, heartily, then 
 he added, with a winning smile meant to touch the 
 heart of the cook : " If there is one thing on earth 
 I love to eat right off as soon as it's cooked, it's 
 gingerbread. Do you cut your gingerbread when 
 it's hot, old lady?" 
 
 "I do when it's for two such treasures as you 
 boys," said the cook, willingly, and Billie went off 
 toward the river with two generous squares of rich 
 golden brown gingerbread in his hands, just hot 
 from the oven.
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 101 
 
 " How you spoil those boys," came a low, easy 
 voice from the open window of the " ell," where 
 Avis' yellow hair showed above the writing- 
 l-sk. She was finishing a chapter, as usual, or 
 beginning one, and the spirit of the Muse was on 
 lu T in full force, therefore she had retired early 
 in the morning, taking sanctuary in the school- 
 room afar from her house work and all distracting 
 events. This last story was to be a master-piece. 
 There was no doubt about it in her mind or in 
 Marjorie's either. Every day her royal highness 
 added to it, and every night after the rest were 
 asleep she read it to Marjorie as they sat under 
 the shadow of the big four-poster in their night 
 gowns. 
 
 " Can't spoil a good thing," Muggins replied, 
 merrily, piling the cooking dishes in the dish pan, 
 and starting for the tea kettle. " I'd give them 
 anything they wanted if I could." 
 
 " A gun that shoots for Billie, and an art edu- 
 cation for Rob," Avis said, idly, balancing her pen 
 on her finger. Muggins looked up with a look of 
 frank astonishment. 
 
 " How did you know Bob wanted an art educa- 
 tion ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know ; I think I heard Billie tell- 
 ing the Lamb, or else you said something about 
 it," and her royal highness did not meet the
 
 102 Rook's Nest 
 
 straight gaze of the brown eyes at the kitchen 
 window. 
 
 Muggins whistled. It was another one of the 
 bad habits she had learned from Billie, but she 
 did not say anything. 
 
 " I think it's so queer," Avis went on, thought- 
 fully, " the idea of a big, awkward farm boy like 
 that wanting an art education. It seems so hard 
 that anyone should have an ambition of that kind 
 in them when it is impossible for them to win it 
 when they have no money." 
 
 Her voice sank lower and lower, and the last 
 words Marjorie just caught faintly, but a quick 
 look of anxiety shone in her eyes, and she asked 
 impulsively : 
 
 " Aren't you happy here, Avis dear ? " 
 
 The head at the ell window vanished, and in 
 another moment its owner was in the kitchen. 
 
 " I'll help you with those dishes," she said, tak- 
 ing the towel from Muggins' hand. " Where did 
 the boys go ? " 
 
 " I don't know and don't care a rap about it," 
 replied Muggins, briefly, " I want to know whether 
 you are happy here ? " 
 
 There was a silence for some time, and at last 
 Avis said in her firm, womanly way : 
 
 " No, dear, I am not. I do not care for the 
 things you love to do. I hate house work and I
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 103 
 
 hate all the miserable little scrimping ami saving 
 we have to do to get along. I want to make a 
 giv;it success of my writing. I want to make you 
 all rich, and give you something better than this 
 tumble down little place. I want oh, Margie, 
 how can I make you understand how much I 
 want, and why I am not happy." 
 
 Marjorio looked at her in silence, looked at her 
 with a mingled love and disappointment that she 
 could not conceal. And yet she knew it was all 
 true, too, and perhaps that knowledge hurt worse 
 than if only the fear of its being true had been in 
 her heart. Happy? Why, she never thought 
 about whether she was happy or not, any more 
 than she did about whether she was alive or not. 
 It was simply a sure thing. She had grown to 
 love the little " tumble down place," as home, their 
 very own home, and then there were the little 
 ones, too, the menagerie, to love and care for. She 
 never had time to sit and wonder whether she was 
 happy or not. But of course, it was all so differ- 
 ent with Avis. She was clever. 
 
 "Say, Muggins," came Dora's plaintive tones 
 from the sitting-room, " when can I come out ? " 
 
 " When I get the work done, girlie," said Mar- 
 jorie, with a little half sigh. 
 
 " Haven't you anything to say to me ? " asked 
 Avis, raising her dreamy eyes with a look of re-
 
 104 Rook's Nest 
 
 proach. Marjorie had always supported her 
 loyally before. She had thought she would un- 
 derstand. She did not know how her words had 
 hurt. 
 
 " No, not a single thing," Marjorie said, shaking 
 her head, " you are different from the rest of us 
 I suppose you can't help it, so I haven't anything 
 to say. Go away and write. I'd rather do the 
 work alone." 
 
 Avis went, and stayed as much as ten minutes, 
 but somehow the Muse was shy, and evaded her, 
 and in her place came up the memory of Mar- 
 jorie's face as she had looked at her. 
 
 At last she rose and took up the book of Tenny- 
 son lying at her hand, and went back to the 
 kitchen, where Muggins was down on her hands 
 and knees cleaning up the floor. She never would 
 allow Avis to do any of that sort of work because 
 it made her hands red, so it had been the estab- 
 lished custom in the past for her royal highness 
 to draw a chair up in the entry way so as not to 
 touch the clean floor, and there she would sit in 
 state, darning stockings, and reading poetry aloud 
 from a volume on her lap. But to-day Marjorie 
 did not look up when she heard the chair put in 
 its accustomed place, and Avis hesitated. At last 
 after another glance at the slim little figure down 
 on the floor scrubbing for dear life, she said :
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 105 
 
 "Last time we read 'The Coming of Arthur,' 
 but it was so long, you know. I'm going to try 
 some of tho shorter ones to-day." 
 
 Still there was no reply, and she opened the 
 book and began to read. The old wooden clock 
 that Rob had sent over to them from his store of 
 useful curiousities, ticked steadily on, many times, 
 and still the low, sweet voice read on, and still 
 Muggins said not a word. Finally, though, she 
 stopped abruptly, and sat back, her hands clasped 
 around her knees. 
 
 "Billie ought to go to school," she said, sol- 
 emnly. 
 
 " Well ? " Avis looked up inquiringly. 
 
 " Well," Marjorie repeated, " I'm wondering what 
 I am going to do. And I'm wondering, too, what 
 we are going to do when the last of the money is 
 gone." 
 
 " Marjorie, dear, don't you be a bit afraid, a way 
 will come," said Avis. "I never bother about 
 those little things. Listen to this, the rest about 
 the mermaid and the bold merry mermen : 
 
 " They would sue me, and woo me, and flatter me, 
 In the purple twilights under the sea; 
 But the king of them all should carry me, 
 Woo me, and win me, and marry me "- 
 
 " Oh, I don't like that," said Marjorie, scrubbing
 
 io6 Rook's Nest 
 
 hard. " She was so silly with her flowing ring- 
 lets and her sea bud crown. Skip it." 
 
 " I don't think she was silly for a mermaid," 
 Avis answered, dreamily. " Of course you would 
 never do such things, but I would. Think of 
 yourself, Muggins, on a great throne, with the sea 
 snake coiled around for love of you " 
 
 " Ugh ! " said Marjorie, shaking back her curls 
 with a shiver, " no, I thank you." 
 
 " Or think of Hob Rogers chasing around, play- 
 ing tag with the mermaids, 'in the purple twi- 
 lights under the sea,' " Avis smiled as she spoke, 
 and Muggins' ire promptly rose in defense of her 
 favorite. 
 
 " I don't care," she said, warmly, " he tried to 
 save Dora when the rest of us couldn't stir, and 
 he's a splendid boy, and I don't think you have 
 any reason for being so so silly, Avis." 
 
 "Silly?" Avis rose from the chair. Silly? 
 She silly ? It was too much. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, silly," said Muggins, firmly, and 
 she would have gone on but for a gesture of warn- 
 ing from Avis as the latter beat a hasty retreat. 
 
 " Hello, Margie," Rob said, his head and shoul- 
 ders appearing at the window. " Is Dora ready ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir-ree," called that maiden all forlorn. 
 "I've been waiting for Muggins and Avis to get 
 through scrapping"
 
 Day Dreams and Air Castles 107 
 
 "Dora," Marjorie interrupted, hastily, but the 
 Lamb ignored her. 
 
 " Scrapping, that's what Billie and I call it, and 
 now, what have you got behind you ? " 
 
 " You march out here, and find out," called 
 Billie, from the yard, and accordingly his compan- 
 ion accepted the invitation and marched. 
 
 And lo! The colt, the fiery, untamed colt, 
 gentle and docile as a kitten, standing in all hu- 
 mility at the doorstep, with a saddle and bridle 
 on, and his shaggy coat trim and satiny. 
 
 " What's it for ? " gasped the Lamb, reaching 
 out her hand to pat the slim, pretty nose. 
 
 " For the Lady Lambkin with the love and best 
 wishes of her old friend, Mr. Benjamin Rogers," 
 said Rob, gravely. "Father thought you had the 
 best right to him. Come up." 
 
 It was a great moment for Dora. She stepped 
 from the doorstep to Rob's hand, and so mounted 
 to the saddle, and instead of the wild break for 
 liberty which Darling had made on a similar occa- 
 sion, he lifted his head proudly and walked with 
 dainty, careful steps down the pathway to the 
 road, Rob following on Sinbad. 
 
 When they had passed out of sight, Billie 
 turned to the girls with a quizzical look. 
 
 " Did he tell you ? " he asked, shortly. 
 
 Marjorie's gaze, which still rested lovingly on
 
 io8 Rook's Nest 
 
 the last bend of the path, returned to his face in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Tell what ? " she said, and her royal highness 
 was turning away, when Billie's words made her 
 pause. 
 
 " Oh, nothing much," he said, gloomily, as he 
 thrust his hands into his pockets, and turned his 
 head away so that they could not see his face. 
 " Only only Rob's going off next week to try his 
 luck in the world, and I guess we're going to miss 
 him some."
 
 CHAPTER VH 
 The Black Pirate Sails 
 
 IT was not one of Billie's jokes, as Muggins 
 half believed at first, but all quite true. Bob was 
 to go away to Chicago to study drawing and 
 sketching art, as Avis called it ; and then began 
 a period of weeping and wailing and gnashing of 
 teeth on the part of the menagerie for Ked Rover, 
 the hero of their hearts. The Owl and the Lion 
 tagged after him devotedly whenever there was a 
 shadow of a chance, and Dora shed many a tear 
 on Darling's rough mane in the privacy of the barn. 
 
 But Billie and Muggins displayed far different 
 sentiments. Not but what they were sorry to 
 have Rob go, only they were sorry in a gloriously 
 self-sacrificing, Spartan spirit; for was not the 
 Red Rover going forth to battle, the hardest battle 
 of all to fight, the battle of life ? Then how silly 
 it was to cry about it, Billie told the Lamb. He 
 only wished that he were in Rob's shoes, going 
 away off to the city to hustle and get rich. 
 
 " Yes, and perhaps we'll never see him again at 
 all," Dora said, dismally, her face woe begone and 
 
 109
 
 no Rook's Nest 
 
 her nose red as a cherry. Dora never looked nice 
 when she cried. Now when the Owl wept, there 
 were just a few little tear drops that trickled down 
 her cheeks like dew on lily petals, and she looked 
 sweeter and daintier than ever for the shower; 
 but when the Lamb wept, she wept in a wild, 
 abandoned, tempestuous fashion, which played 
 havoc with her rosy countenance made for smiles 
 and dimples. Her eyelids were red, her nose 
 was red, and her cheeks flushed and wet, and all 
 she needed was sackcloth and ashes in order to 
 start a little wail ing-place of her own just on the 
 strength of her appearance. 
 
 Billie stood and looked at her now, in dark 
 browed disapproval, his feet wide apart, his hands 
 deep in his pockets. 
 
 " Dora, you haven't caught on," he said, at last, 
 shaking his head. "You don't see the point. 
 Now, look here, if there were a great big balloon 
 out in this yard all ready to go up as soon as you 
 cut the rope, wouldn't you go ? " 
 
 "Yes, 'course I would," returned the Lamb, 
 stoutly. Never should it be said that fear held 
 her back from any deed of daring. "But I 
 wouldn't want you or Kob or Muggins to go, 
 'cause you might tumble. Don't you see ? " 
 
 Billle's look changed to one of mild compas- 
 sion.
 
 The Black Pirate Sails in 
 
 "You can't help it, Dora," he said, with a 
 patient sigh. " You can chum with me all you 
 want to, climb trees, chase bugs, and holler, and 
 do all those things, and you can keep a secret, 
 too ; but you're only a girl, and you can't help it 
 You don't care a rap about Bob's being a hero and 
 getting famous so that everybody in the whole 
 world will want his picture and autograph. Of 
 course you don't You'd rather have him peg 
 away on this old farm all his life, and never do 
 anything better than to draw a picture of Avis try- 
 ing to climb a ladder ; you'd rather have him stay 
 here, I say, just because you want him around. 
 If that isn't like a girl, then I want to know what 
 is ! But you can't help it'* 
 
 Here Dora positively declined discussing the 
 matter any further. She would not be called 
 names by William Randall or any one else. 
 
 "Didn't call you names," Billie retorted after 
 the retreating form. " Just called you a girl." 
 
 " You called me only a girl," said the Lamb, in- 
 dignantly, " and that's all "Winnie is." 
 
 " Oh, come back," Billie teased, " I didn't mean 
 that, you know I didn't You know I think you're 
 a brick " 
 
 But Dora had vanished into the Palace of a 
 Thousand Delights. Only the love of Darling 
 could pour balm on her aching heart
 
 ii2 Rook's Nest 
 
 "I know you will succeed," Marjorie said, the 
 last day when Rob came to the Castle, and her 
 eyes were bright and her smile was brave as 
 she looked up at his figure that took up so 
 much room in the little schoolroom, so tall and 
 stalwart it was, and yet boyish, too, with the 
 frank, earnest face above. 
 
 Avis was sitting beside her desk. She had half 
 turned in her chair when Rob entered, and now 
 sat looking at them both, her elbow on the back 
 of the chair, and her cheek on her palm. The 
 desk was overspread with loose sheets of paper, 
 and had quite a business-like air, and, as he spoke 
 to Marjorie, Rob's gaze rested on Avis, on her 
 long, fair hair, her slim, white hands even the 
 one that held the pen and bore the ever present 
 blot, had an attraction for him and he wondered 
 if she would say she was sorry he was going 
 away. But she did not. Instead, she looked at 
 him with her thoughtful, blue eyes, and asked : 
 
 " Aren't you glad you're going ? " 
 
 " In a way, yes," Rob said, hesitatingly, wishing 
 she would not say such things ; but Avis was not 
 thinking of him or his wishes. She was longing 
 with her whole heart to be in his place, to be go- 
 ing out as he was, to follow her chosen path, and 
 win the treasures it lead to. 
 
 Marjorie laughed and chatted with him, and
 
 The Black Pirate Saik 113 
 
 him an immense amount of good advice as 
 sh<> stood beside him, barely reaching to his shoul- 
 der ; but Avis was silent save when she gave him 
 her hand in her gentle lady-like way, and said 
 good-bye, ard then the menagerie rushed in to es- 
 cort him to the station in mournful state, and the 
 parting was over. The two girls stood in the door- 
 way, and watched the little procession as it passed 
 down the path, the Lion perched high on Rob's 
 shoulder, the girls clinging to his hands, and 
 Billie stalking a little ahead, a bodyguard of one. 
 
 Marjorie's eyes slowly filled, and when they 
 were out of sight, she laid her head against the 
 doorway, and was very quiet ; but Avis' face was 
 bright and excited, and she said, with a sigh : 
 
 " Oh, I wish I were a boy." 
 
 So passed Red Rover from out the Nest life, 
 gone forth like a true knight to seek his fortune, 
 and conquer the world, with hopes so great that 
 even her royal highness herself could not have 
 dreamed fairer ones. And very lonesome and com- 
 monplace seemed the life at the little house with- 
 out his ready help and cheery laugh. Even Mr. 
 Keith could not take his place, although he was a 
 constant visitor at the Nest, and a favorite with all. 
 
 Billie had all the departed one's pets now. 
 Pigeons, doves, mice, 'possums, squirrels, rabbits ; 
 even Sinbad was stalled beside Darling in the Pal-
 
 ii4 Rook's Nest 
 
 ace of a Thousand delights as his master had com- 
 manded ; and altogether the Nest and the Palace 
 had about as large a population as they could 
 support. 
 
 It seemed as though Mr. and Mrs. Rogers had 
 adopted the family now that their boy was gone. 
 Not a single day passed but what some thoughtful 
 little offering was sent over from the big farm, and 
 the menagerie waxed fat and joyous on a luxurious 
 fare of cream, and fruit, and many things delight- 
 ful unto their capricious appetites, and Muggins 
 laughed, and said that they were being bribed 
 from their loyalty to the Nest. 
 
 Two whole months had passed by since the 
 night when they had sat under the lilacs and 
 feasted on apple blossoms. 
 
 To be sure, not a foot of land on their five acres 
 had yielded any more substantial crop than ber- 
 ries and blossoms ; but what did that matter, 
 Billie said. They had rented two acres of pasture- 
 land along the creek to Mr. Rogers and he had 
 proved a highly desirable tenant. Butter, milk, 
 and all the treasures of his back garden were at 
 the disposal of Princess Muggins and her brood, 
 and only the lack of ready money ever awakened 
 the Princess to a realization of their true position. 
 
 "A slight financial stringency," Billie would 
 say, airily. " That's what Avis says in her stories
 
 The Black Pirate Sails 115 
 
 about poor folks, and it's great. It makes you 
 feel like a big bankrupt, and as if you had lost 
 millions, instead of a measly ten dollars. We're 
 poor folks, aren't we, Muggins? Poor and 
 needy ? " 
 
 " Oh, Billie, will you keep still ? " pleaded Avis. 
 " I can't concentrate my thoughts at all." 
 
 " Ha ! Listen to her royal Ink Blotness. There's 
 another beauty. Can't concentrate my thoughts." 
 
 William sank into a chair and leaned his brow on 
 his hand as he waved the Lion back majestically. 
 
 "Go away, infant. I want to concentrate my 
 thoughts, too," he said, solemnly, and the Lion fled. 
 
 " I think it's awful," exclaimed Avis, gathering 
 up her papers in high dudgeon. " You all make 
 fun of my writing and study. It isn't fair at all. 
 Some day " 
 
 " Oh, some day, some day, you may fly away in 
 a soap bubble and frighten the mosquitoes to 
 death," interrupted Billie, loftily. " If you'd stop 
 dreaming about what may happen some day, and 
 wake up to-day, it would be better for all of us. 
 Look at Rob. He doesn't dream." 
 
 But Avis had departed, and after a few minutes 
 they saw her going across lots toward the woods 
 with her roll of paper, and a book under her arm. 
 Billie whistled, and Muggins sighed, an anxioua 
 pucker of wrinkles between her eyebrows.
 
 n6 Rook's Nest 
 
 " You always say the wrong thing to Avis," she 
 said. 
 
 "Don't care if I do," retorted Billie, boldly. 
 " She thinks she's so smart. Thinks she's a little 
 statuette just made to stand on a mantel, and smile 
 and say 'Please keep the dust off.' I love to 
 ruffle her up, and see her act like Rob's bantam 
 when you peg corn at him. All she does is just 
 to shut herself up in that room, and scribble, 
 scratch, scribble, scratch, all day long, and noth- 
 ing ever comes of it at all, does it ? I don't see 
 showers of gold tumbling over her. If she doesn't 
 look out she'll get under the wrong bucket, like 
 that girl in the fairy story you read, and get a 
 shower of pitch instead." 
 
 Marjorie, however, would not listen to such 
 talk. Avis was clever, ever so much more clever 
 than the rest of them. It was natural for her to 
 be rather odd. Weren't all clever people odd ? 
 
 " Yes, but they aren't all cranks, and don't have 
 to concentrate their thoughts all the time ; " with 
 which parting shot, Billie stalked away to the barn 
 where the Lamb held sway, to pour forth his 
 sentiments into her sympathetic ear. They were 
 heartily against Avis and her eternal " chapters," 
 and both decided, as always, that Muggins was 
 the only brick. 
 
 But the Owl and the Lion were under the lilacs
 
 The Black Pirate Sails 117 
 
 in the coolest corner of the garden, talking it over 
 in an entirely different lighi Avis was nothing 
 more nor less than a fairy princess, Winnie had 
 long since decided. Had she not golden hair and 
 blue eyes just as they always had? "Who ever 
 heard of a fairy princess with short, brown curly 
 hair like Muggins. No, Avis was the real one, 
 and Winnie talked and talked to the Lion about it 
 until his eyes grew rounder than ever, and he 
 listened breathlessly. 
 
 " You must have a fairy godmother, you know, 
 to be an honest and true princess," the Owl was 
 saying, gravely, "and you never see her, 'cause 
 she's a fairy ; but she always looks after you, and 
 sometimes she changes herself into a butterfly or a 
 flower and then you see her, but don't know it's her." 
 
 The Lion moved uneasily away from a clover 
 blossom beside him and looked askance at the 
 tiny pale blue butterfly on it Whenever Winnie 
 told him fairy tales, he was always scared for an 
 hour afterward for fear he would step on a 
 flower or hurt a butterfly or bee, or something that 
 might be a fairy in disguise. It was very trouble- 
 some. 
 
 " So I think Avis had one," went on the OwL 
 " And she's going to be something won-der-ful ! 
 And you know how she goes to the woods for so 
 long. Well, I think she sees them there ! "
 
 n8 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Theeth what ? " inquired Reggie, in an anxious 
 whisper. 
 
 " Fairies. All kinds. And they twine flowers 
 in her lovely golden hair, and kiss her, and dance 
 around her." Winnie had closed her eyes, and 
 was rocking herself to and fro, her hands clasped 
 across her knees. 
 
 "Leth go an thee, too," suggested the Lion. 
 " Can't we thee, too ? " 
 
 "Not unless you've got a pink violet, and a ten- 
 leaf clover," replied Winnie, wisely. "And you 
 ought to have a magic bullrush for a wand." 
 
 " Leth go find 'em," and there was no resisting 
 the entreaty in the plaintive voice. Winnie always 
 believed faithfully in her own make believes ; so 
 now, nothing loath, she prepared to start off in 
 quest of the pink violet, the ten-leaf clover, and 
 the bullrush. 
 
 Marjorie was singing in the kitchen at the top 
 of her strong young voice, and never noticed the 
 two figures which started off in Avis' tracks toward 
 the woods down in the deep ravine. The world 
 is wonderful when you only reach as high as the 
 second rail from the top of the bars in the pas- 
 ture. The daisies come up to your waist, and the 
 low sumac bushes are spreading trees. The two 
 runaways went leisurely past the barn, and on 
 through the pasture. Up at the barn-window sat
 
 The Black Pirate Sails 119 
 
 Billie and the Lamb, and they saw the two go on 
 and on, and finally climb the fence and go toward 
 the ravine. 
 
 " They'll get in the swamp/' said Dora, medita- 
 tively. " Bet a cookie Muggins doesn't know. I 
 suppose we ought to go after them." 
 
 "No, sir-ree bob, we hadn't," replied Billie, 
 firmly. " I want to talk business. Avis is down 
 there somewhere." 
 
 So no one disturbed the peaceful tenor of the 
 tramps' way, and Winnie was far too wise to be 
 entrapped in the maze of a bog. 
 
 " We'll go down to the river, Reggie," she said, 
 poising herself on a tree stump while they both 
 munched a few stray black raspberries that had 
 rambled over the stone wall on straggling vines. 
 "Maybe we'll take Billie's boat and go 'round to 
 the woods that way." 
 
 " You can't wow," returned the Lion, skeptically. 
 " An' then the water'th all gone now. Can't wow 
 wifout water, Winnie." 
 
 "We'll just get in, and push the boat with a 
 pole real close to the shore," said the Owl, coax- 
 ingly. "I saw Rob do it just before he went 
 away, and there's a little water yet, 'cause Dora and 
 me were down paddling and we could only go half- 
 way across the river." 
 
 The vision of pushing the pole all by their
 
 120 Rook's Nest 
 
 " lonesomes," as Billie called it, was too much 
 for the Lion. He succumbed, and trotted tran- 
 quilly after Winnie down to the shore of the 
 river. 
 
 "When they had first come to East Elmore in 
 the spring, the river had been a great, mighty 
 stretch of dark rain-swollen water, sending turbu- 
 lent little streams tumbling helter-skelter through 
 the ravines, but now it was midsummer, and it 
 was only a flat, lazy affair, so low that the water 
 grasses and weeds towered rank and thick above 
 the scant foot or two of water, and only the min- 
 nows, and black skipping bugs, haunted the sunlit 
 shallows. 
 
 " Couldn't get drowned if you stood on your 
 head in that," Billie had said contemptuously, 
 when Muggins suggested it might be a dangerous 
 playground ; so now the Owl made a bee-line cross 
 lots for the little willow cove which had been 
 Bob and Billie's boat-house. 
 
 The flat-bottomed boat lay as the boys had left 
 it, half in the water, half up on the thick, wet 
 grass. It was a black craft; and on the prow 
 Hob had painted the head of a ferocious looking 
 pirate, with a knife between his teeth, and a hand- 
 kerchief tied around his head. Beneath this was 
 written "The Black Pirate." Many a gallant 
 cruise had been taken in it across the stormy
 
 The Black Pirate Sails 121 
 
 main of Fox River, when Red Rover and his trust- 
 ing comrade, Deadshot Billie, had raised the black 
 flag, and sailed for parts unknown. 
 
 "I'm captain," announced Winnie, confiden- 
 tially, " 'cause the captain poles, and you must sit 
 still and make believe you see things." 
 
 Reggie's eyes were big with wonder and a touch 
 of fear as he dutifully seated himself on the prow 
 seat, and prepared to watch. 
 
 "What mutht I thee, Winnie?" he asked, 
 mildly. " Juth bugth ? " 
 
 " Oh, my, no. Great big sea serpents waggling 
 their tails at us, and dragons looking cross-eyed 
 from the trees, and and mermaids with gold 
 shells and pearl combs, and you mustn't call me 
 Winnie. Call me Captain Fairy Rosebud." 
 
 So Captain Fairy Rosebud pushed lustily with 
 her pole, and nearly toppled headlong into the 
 river at the first push, but after a time it became 
 easy, and " The Black Pirate " traveled at the rate 
 of three feet per minute. 
 
 " Wish we'd find something won-ful," the Owl 
 said, wistfully, when the pole began to grow 
 clumsy and heavy. "Wish something would 
 happen, honest and true." 
 
 "Me, too," answered the faithful watcher, 
 plaintively. " I thee another thee therpeni" 
 
 But the announcement failed to awaken the
 
 122 Rook's Nest 
 
 enthusiasm from the gallant captain which the 
 first alarm had. 
 
 She was leaning meditatively on her pole, look- 
 ing at the shore line. They were down to the first 
 ravine now, where the miniature canyon ended at 
 the river, and the willows grew thickly all along 
 the banks. 
 
 The old boat drifted lazily shoreward, 1?ut the 
 gallant captain took no notice of the danger of 
 being stuck in the soft black mud. She was 
 bending forward staring at a clump of willows 
 ahead. 
 
 "Reggie," she whispered at last. "Reggie, 
 look there ! Don't you see anything ? Right 
 down where that big log sticks out." 
 
 " Yeth. I do, I do," gasped the Lion, joyously. 
 "Frogth!" 
 
 " No, it's not frogs. It's stones. It's a it's 
 a cave ! " 
 
 " An' a thee therpent, Winnie ? " 
 
 "Reggie Randall, it isn't a make believe this 
 time. It's honest and true." The boat neared 
 the log, and Winnie promptly deserted her post, 
 and started on a voyage of discovery, leaving the 
 Lion alone, indignant but helpless. He watched 
 her as she made her way up the beach a few 
 yards, and saw her disappear behind the willows. 
 Whereupon a howl of exceeding wrath awoke the
 
 The Bkck Pirate Sails 123 
 
 echoes, and there was weeping and wailing from 
 the bold pilot, until his shipmate put in her ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 But the Owl was wise, and two heads bent close 
 together as she told of her grand discovery, and 
 Reggie was mollified. Then after a few minutes' 
 struggle with the boat line, the two tramped up to 
 the mysterious spot, and vanished, leaving behind 
 no sign of their whereabouts.
 
 CHAPTER 
 Bread and Berries 
 
 MEANWHILE Muggins had finished her work, and, 
 taking the tin berry pails, started for the meadow 
 corners where the blackberries grew. She was 
 thinking deeply all the way, and when she caught 
 sight of a white dress fluttering among the trees, 
 she gave a sigh of relief. Somehow, lately, she 
 had not had as many of the old free confidential 
 heart chats with Avis as formerly. Just whose 
 fault it was, she could not say ; but at all events 
 she was glad now of a chance to talk matters over 
 away from the ears of the menagerie. 
 
 Avis was throned in clover under a walnut-tree, 
 her papers scattered around her, her hands clasped 
 behind her head, dreaming. "When Muggins 
 called her she started and flushed guiltily, then 
 rose with a half sigh. 
 
 "Come on and help," Muggins said, happily, 
 pulling her sunbonnet farther over her face, and 
 smiling at Avis out of its shadowy tunnel depth. 
 " Takes lots to go round, you know." 
 
 Avis was silent, but there was a worried look on 
 
 124
 
 Bread and Berries 125 
 
 her face as she knelt beside Muggins and picked 
 11 ic great luscious black beauties from the heavy 
 laden vines which grew along the stone wall. She 
 knew how many it took to go round ; knew, too, 
 how much harder it was becoming every day to 
 find enough to go round ; and if it were so now, 
 in the full ripeness of the season's treasures, what 
 would it be in winter? As it was, the summer 
 had fairly flown by, and now it was the time of 
 yellow daisies and ripening apples ; and still there 
 were no crops to be harvested, no signs of any 
 winter store for the six grasshoppers, who danced 
 in the sunshine of the kingdom called Rattletibang. 
 
 " We're just living, that's all," Avis said, at last, 
 when they were strolling up from the pasture. 
 " There isn't a single hope ahead for us. What 
 do you suppose we're going to do in that crazy 
 little place when winter comes, and we'll need fires, 
 and all sorts of things ? " 
 
 " We ought to work some way," Muggins said, 
 in a low tone, her face worried and perplexed. 
 
 "We ought to do something," Avis returned, 
 heartily. " I don't know exactly what it is to be, 
 but for one thing, I think that Billie ought to stop 
 spending all his time hunting bugs. What good 
 will it ever do him or us, either ? He's off the 
 first thing after breakfast with Dora, and that's all 
 you see of either of them until dinner tune, when
 
 126 Rook's Nest 
 
 they come back crowing over some old beetle or 
 butterfly they've found." 
 
 "But he's only a boy, Avis, after all," pleaded 
 Marjorie, " what can they do at home ? " 
 
 Avis was silent. She carried a pail of berries 
 in one hand, and a willow switch in the other, and 
 as they went along the path she idly beheaded the 
 the tall feathery tipped grasses that nodded lazily 
 on either side. 
 
 " I think we've managed pretty well," Marjorie 
 went on. " It's three month's since we came to 
 the Nest, and we've never been hungry yet.". 
 
 " No, but we would have been if the Rogerses 
 hadn't looked out for us," Avis replied, bluntly. 
 Ever since Bob's departure, she had, as Billie 
 said approvingly, turned over a new leaf. There 
 was less time spent at the desk, and more in the 
 kitchen, and she had taken many burdens off Mar- 
 jorie's shoulders. The only thing was, that in 
 taking the burdens she wanted to take the author- 
 ity also, and the menagerie rose in mutiny over 
 the new state of things, for the new task-master 
 was very different from the old one. 
 
 "Mrs. Eogers is always sending something over 
 to us," Avis went on, "besides the milk every 
 night." 
 
 "I pay for the milk," remonstrated Marjorie, 
 faintly.
 
 Bread and Berries 127 
 
 " Yes, you pay for it," and there was a fine sar- 
 casm in her royal highness's tone, "you pay three 
 cents for almost four quarts. That's a great price, 
 isn't it ? All in the world we have had out of our 
 own place are the eggs and berries and fruit, and 
 we even got the hens from the Rogers farm." 
 
 " Oh, Avis, don't talk so," Marjorie raised her 
 head, and tried to look impressive. "The chil- 
 dren are happy, and all of them well " 
 
 " And running wild as colts," interrupted Avis, 
 firmly. She rather liked her new role of advis- 
 ing and admonishing Muggins. "Racing about, 
 climbing trees, and nearly breaking their necks." 
 
 Marjorie was silent When Avis once started 
 in to regulate matters, she felt perfectly helpless 
 to stem the tide, so she held her breath, and let it 
 come and go, and generally, after the first burst of 
 enthusiasm, Avis would go and dream awhile, and 
 Marjorie would have her own way just the same. 
 
 "And, Muggins dear, we have no more money." 
 Avis hesitated for a moment, but she had made 
 up her mind as to her course, and now she meant 
 to speak. 
 
 Marjorie's blue sunbonnet was bent forward to 
 the ground, and her face unseen, but she did not 
 speak. 
 
 " Muggins, dear ? " 
 
 "Yes'm."
 
 128 Rook's Nest 
 
 " You know that meadow along the riverside ? " 
 
 No answer, only a nod of the sunbonnet, but 
 Avis persevered bravely. 
 
 " Well, of course, it's all your land to do with as 
 you like, but don't you remember that day when 
 we went boating, how old Mr. Rogers said he 
 wished he had that piece of land, and that when 
 you wanted to part with it, you could come to 
 him?" 
 
 Another nod of the sunbonnet. 
 
 " Well, then, why don't you sell it to him, and 
 take half pay in wood and vegetables for the 
 winter." 
 
 Marjorie raised her head and looked Avis 
 squarely in the eyes. There were tears in her 
 own, but her voice was firm and steady as she 
 said : 
 
 " I can't do it." 
 
 "Why not?" demanded Avis, in surprise. She 
 had thought that her plan was the key to the 
 whole situation. 
 
 "Because," Marjorie replied, slowly, "because, 
 in the will that Mr. Ellis showed me, Uncle Cher- 
 rington said he left me the house and land here, 
 on condition that I never sold or parted with any 
 portion of it any way, and I won't." 
 
 Avis frowned, and switched the heads of some 
 wild carrot blossoms off with an impatient gesture.
 
 Bread and Berries 129 
 
 " Do you suppose for one moment that he ever 
 thought all of us children would be trying to live 
 in that little place, without any father or mother 
 or money or anything ? " 
 
 She stopped. Her voice was choked with sobs, 
 and she dropped the pail of berries, and sat down 
 in the tall grass, her face hidden in her arms. 
 Marjorie promptly set her own pail down with 
 due regard for its contents, and knelt beside her, 
 her arms around the other's neck while she waited 
 until she had finished crying. 
 
 " Whatever you do," Billie was wont to say in 
 private confidence to Marjorie, "whatever you do, 
 if her royal highness gets to weeping, for pity's 
 sake let her have her weep out, 'caiise it will take 
 more of the starch out of her than anything else 
 will." 
 
 Following his advice, with the wisdom of past 
 experience to support her, Marjorie waited. Over- 
 head were the branches of an apple-tree, the fruit 
 with which they were laden just beginning to turn 
 ruddy, but neither of the girls glanced above them. 
 
 " Avis, I can't, I won't sell a foot of it," Marjorie 
 said, at last, and there was an earnest resolution 
 in her tone that showed how deeply she felt " It's 
 all we have of our own in the world. Why, I'd 
 rather write to aunt Bethiah Newell than sell the 
 land."
 
 130 Rook's Nest 
 
 Avis sat up instantly at the sound of the name, 
 and she brushed her tears hastily away from her 
 eyes. 
 
 " If you ever did such a thing as that, Marjorie 
 Randall," she cried, " I would never forgive you, 
 never. The idea of doing that after the way they 
 treated poor mamma." 
 
 But Marjorie had taken her stand now, and was 
 not one whit afraid to hold her own. 
 
 "It was grandpa and uncle Harvey who did 
 it," she said, firmly. "Mamma always said 
 grandma was good to her." 
 
 " Yes, but we never heard of aunt Bethiah one 
 way or the other, and now she and uncle Harvey 
 have all the money, and here we are without any. 
 Muggins, Muggins, don't write to them. Do have 
 a little pride." 
 
 "Haven't got a bit when it means food and 
 comfort for the little ones to drop it," laughed 
 Marjorie, and then, when she saw the look on 
 Avis's face, her tone changed. " Well, something 
 must be done, I see, that as well as you, dear. 
 While the berries last, we shan't starve, any way. 
 I've got just ten dollars left after paying Dr. Til- 
 ton, and buying shoes all 'round, and there isn't 
 a single thing to eat at home except bread. I 
 wish we could all creep into earth holes like 
 moles, and sleep until spring comes." She rose
 
 Bread and Berries 131 
 
 with & weary little sigh, and, arm in arm, the two 
 went down the pathway out of sight 
 
 Then began a strange manifestation about the 
 apple-tree. First, the boughs were shaken, and 
 some apples fell, then came a sound of scraped 
 bark, and of scrambling feet, and finally two ob- 
 jects swung hand over hand like monkeys, down 
 to the lowest branches, and from these dropped 
 to the ground below, where they lay at full length 
 for two whole minutes, munching green apples, 
 and solemnly surveying each other. 
 
 " Something must be done," cried Billie, heroic- 
 ally, waving the core of his tenth. 
 
 " That's what they said," answered the Lamb, 
 calmly, " and neither one will do what the other 
 one wants her to." 
 
 Silence again, broken but once by Billie r s low 
 sorrowful murmur. 
 
 " Ten dollars left. Bread and berries. Berries 
 and bread." 
 
 Suddenly a light broke over Dora's face. She 
 threw her last apple frantically at an inoffen- 
 sive robin, and proceeded to do her favorite 
 Feejee dance. Billie watched her impassively 
 until she was through. He was used to Dora's 
 little ways of expressing sudden emotion. At 
 last she stopped, and beckoned Billie to come 
 closer.
 
 132 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Have you got two cents ? " she whispered, 
 mysteriously. 
 
 "Nary a red cent," Billie answered, calmly. 
 
 " Borrow it then," ordered the Lamb in the same 
 tone. " Borrow, it of Mr. Keith. I've got a plan." 
 
 " Fire ahead. I'm listening," he said, and there 
 under the apple-trees was unfolded the plot that 
 was to bring about a revolution within the peace- 
 ful walls of the Nest. By sundown the whole 
 plan was fully hatched, the two cents borrowed 
 under a solemn vow of secrecy from Mr. Keith, 
 and then the two conspirators went to supper with 
 light hearts and faces serene.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 Billie Manages Things 
 
 " HAS any one seen the wee ones ? " called Mar- 
 jorie, from the kitchen, as the two passed the side 
 window, ami Dora paused in dismay. It was 
 hours since she and Billie had seen the Owl 
 and the Lion start cross lots riverward. 
 
 "Don't tell her," whispered Billie, warningly. 
 "'Cause she'll worry. Let me tell her." He 
 leaned his elbows on the window-sill, and pressed 
 his face close against the mosquito netting so that 
 he could see Marjorie. 
 
 " I am not sure," he said, with gentle solemn- 
 ity, " and you're not to get excited or have a pow- 
 wow over them, Muggins, but I'm afraid they're 
 gollopped by polliwogs." 
 
 The carving knife fell to the floor, and Marjorie 
 dashed to the door. 
 
 " Billie, did you let them go to the river ? " 
 she cried. " Avis, look out for the kettle. I'm 
 going "- 
 
 But all at once she stopped short. Coming up 
 the path from the barn were the two truants 
 neither crestfallen or repentant, not a bit, but 
 
 133
 
 134 Rook's Nest 
 
 smiling and triumphant ; in fact, there was quite 
 a dash of condescension in Winnie's manner as 
 she nodded airily to the Lord and Lady of the 
 Palace, and the Lion began at once : 
 
 " You don't know what we found down " but 
 the Owl's hand quenched all further information, 
 and the two went on. 
 
 " There's something up," said Dora, decidedly, 
 after she had returned Billie's earnest stare for a 
 minute. " They've got a secret." 
 
 "So've we," whispered Billie, with a chuckle. 
 " Come on. Let them have their little mouse-in- 
 the-hole secrets. Think of what we know." 
 
 There were two rival factions at the table that 
 night. On one side sat the Owl and the Lion, 
 jubilant and crowing, and on the other Billie and 
 the Lamb serenely superior to childish fancies 
 and such small matters, but at last the Owl's at- 
 tention was diverted. 
 
 " Blackberries again ? " she said, critically, 
 " and where's the butter? " 
 
 "We have none, dear," Marjorie said, gently. 
 " You must do the best you can without. Billie, 
 please pass the bread." 
 
 " We've had berries and bread for breakfast and 
 supper every day this week," and the Owl's voice 
 was one of injured plaintiveness as she refused the 
 preferred bread.
 
 Billie Manages Things 135 
 
 Marjorie looked sad, and a trifle grieved. Avis 
 was silent and proud. Billie looked from one to 
 tlie other, and seeing no relief from either he took 
 matters into his own hands as the silence was 
 growing oppressive. 
 
 "Good for you, Winnie," he said, cheerily. 
 " I've felt the same myself, only I'm more bashful 
 than you, you know. Let's have a feast to-night" 
 
 "There isn't a thing to eat there, Billie," re- 
 marked Avis, severely, and Marjorie tried to give 
 him a look of warning as he made a raid on the 
 pantry, but his lordship never heeded them. 
 There was a moment of suspense, and then he reap- 
 peared with Mrs. Rogers' cook-book in his hand. 
 
 " Now, then, good people," he began, perching 
 himself on the back of his chair, and opening the 
 cook-book. " We will begin this banquet with 
 ha let me see with bride's cake and chicken 
 salad. ' Four pounds of sifted flour, four pounds 
 of butter,' you hear that Winnie, four pounds in 
 one lone cake, 'beaten to a cream, two pounds 
 powdered sugar, two dozen eggs, flavor to taste.' 
 Muggins, kindly pass Winnie the bride's cake." 
 
 Winnie was by far too delighted with the new 
 ' make believe ' to refuse the bread a second time, 
 so the bride's cake was passed around the table, 
 and sampled with enthusiasm. Next came the 
 salad, and while Billie gravely read a detailed de*
 
 136 Rook's Nest 
 
 scription of it's contents, the blackberries were 
 eaten in respectful silence. 
 
 " We will now try croquettes," lie said, " cocoa- 
 nut croquettes, ladies, served with whipped cream. 
 Dora, get the bread and milk bowls." 
 
 The feast was a glorious success. When it came to 
 lady fingers and jellied quail, which Billie insisted 
 upon classing together, because he said they would 
 look so nice side by side, Avis cut slices of bread 
 into fancy shapes, and more berries followed as quail. 
 
 " It does seem real," Dora said, daintly carving 
 a berry in two. " When you hear all about what 
 it is made of, and you are eating something any- 
 way, why all you have to do is shut your eyes, and 
 listen and make believe. Billie, you're a darling." 
 
 " Yes, while I've been feasting you, you've been 
 eating my berries," exclaimed Billie, pointing 
 tragically to his empty plate. 
 
 " If I hadn't taken them I wouldn't have had 
 any jellied quail," answered the Lamb, demurely, 
 " and I didn't want to disappoint you by not hav- 
 ing any quail, you know." 
 
 "Well, I think that's the miserliest piece of 
 gormandizing I ever heard of," began the hungry 
 hero, but Marjorie laughed as she brought back 
 the dish refilled from the pantry. 
 
 " We have plenty of berries," she said, setting 
 it down before him.
 
 Billie Manages Things 137 
 
 " Yes, plenty of bemes, but wliere's the chicken 
 salad and deviled tongue and soft shell crabs and 
 jellied quail that you folks had," he demanded, 
 scornfully ; " Dora, go and sit up there on the wood 
 box, and read the cook-book to me. Bead about 
 pickles and puddings." 
 
 It was a splendid scheme they all agreed, and 
 every meal afterward they took turns sitting on 
 the wood box and reading the bill of fare while 
 the rest made believe. 
 
 The days went by with leaden feet to Billie and 
 the Lamb. Instead of roaming after the beetles 
 and butterflies, they walked hopefully back and 
 forth from the Nest to East Elmore post office 
 every day for a letter, a letter from far-off Boston 
 in old New England, from Aunt Bethiah Newell. 
 It had been an easy matter to carry out the plot. 
 Uillie had smuggled paper and pencil to the barn, 
 and up in the secret chamber of the Palace they 
 wrote the fateful missive to Miss Newell. It was 
 a queer mixture of both the Lamb's and Billie's 
 ideas, and when it was done, Billie said if any- 
 thing would fetch the old girl, he guessed that 
 would. It read : 
 
 " MY DEAB AUNT BETHIAH : 
 
 " I thought I would write a letter to let you know that 
 we are all alive, and hope you are the same. Muggins did 
 not want to write to you because you treated mamma so
 
 138 Rook's Nest 
 
 badly. There are six of us, and I am Billie, the boy. 
 Reggie, is a boy, too, but he is only a little one. We live at 
 a funny little place that we call the Nest. It belongs to 
 Muggins, but nothing grows on the land around here ex- 
 cept berries, and apples and eggs, and Muggins has only ten 
 dollars left. Dora was playing circus, and tried to ride a 
 colt, and sprained her ankle, and it cost quite a little to pay 
 the doctor ; but she is all right now, and sends her love, and 
 wants to know what you look like, please. I wish you 
 would please think out a way to help us. The girls don't 
 know that I'm writing to you, except Dora. Avis is awfully 
 afraid that Muggins will write to you because she thinks 
 that you and Uncle Harvey ought not to keep all the money. 
 She loved mamma ever so much, and she looks just like her, 
 and she is smarter than any of us, and Muggins says she is 
 a genius, because she writes stories; but she is awfully 
 proud, and she doesn't like you. Muggins doesn't bother 
 her hesid about things like that. She just likes us children. 
 She is kind of pretty, too. Please address your letter to, 
 " Your affectionate nephew, 
 
 ""WILLIAM RANDALL, 
 
 "East Elmore, 111." 
 
 When ten days had passed by and no letter ar- 
 rived, the hopes of the two conspirators fell to zero 
 and Marjorie wondered whatever could be the mat- 
 ter with Billie the bold, and his faithful comrade. 
 
 Then came a great day, for at last when Billie 
 asked at the narrow glazed window for letters, one 
 was handed out, a thick registered letter directed 
 to Mr. William Eandall, and the postmark was 
 Boston. Not a word did either speak, but with 
 one accord they started on a run down the main
 
 Billie Manages Things 139 
 
 street and never stopped until they were safe in 
 the woods, the other side of the ravine. 
 
 " Now then," said Billie, holding up the envelope 
 to the light, and shutting one eye to scrutinize it 
 at a speculative distance. "I wonder if the old 
 girl's done the proper thing." 
 
 " Oh, open it, you duffer, and find out," cried 
 Dora, impatiently, her brown eyes fairly dancing 
 with excitement as she watched Billie's deliberate 
 method of opening a letter with scorn. When he 
 drew out the enclosure, a couple of bills fell over 
 his lap. 
 
 " Two twenties," commented Billie. " Humph, 
 good for a starter, anyway. Here goes for the 
 letter," and he proceeded to read it aloud. 
 
 "Mr DEAR NEPHEW WILLIAM: 
 
 " Your letter received. I was very much pleased to 
 learn of your existence, as I have never been quite sure 
 how many of you there were, and I knew nothing of your 
 whereabouts. Believe me, I shall take a deep interest In 
 your welfare hereafter, and enclose a trifle which I trust 
 may assist you in your present financial embarrassment. 
 Now, Billie, I wish you at once to acquaint your sisters with 
 the fact of our correspondence. I presume that ' Muggins ' is 
 sister Helen's eldest child, Marjorie, and she, of course, has 
 charge of the others. As for Avis, I trust to see her, and 
 all the rest of you before many days are passed, and then 
 we will see if the hard feelings cannot be banished. Let me 
 know if you are in urgent need of any more money. 
 ' With love to all six, I am, "Your loving aunt, 
 
 NEWELL."
 
 140 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Hurrah ! Hip, hip, hip, Hurrah ! " shouted 
 Billie, turning handsprings as fast as ho could 
 make himself go. "Isn't she an old darling, 
 though ? Enclose a trifle.' "Well, all I got to 
 say is that I hope she'll keep right on trifling. 
 ' Financial embarrassment ! ' There's a neat high- 
 toned way of putting it. Avis will like that. 
 And won't her royal highness and Muggins put on 
 airs when the old girl from Boston town comes 
 west ? Oh, we'll, 
 
 ' Hide a cock horse, 
 
 From Banbury Cross, 
 To see a fine lady get on a white horse, 
 
 Kings on her fingers, 
 
 And bells on her toes, 
 She shall have music wherever she goes.' 
 
 " Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Dora," he cried, in a per- 
 fect ecstacy of exultation. " The old girl's a brick ! " 
 
 "Let's trot on," he said, after somersaults be- 
 came fatiguing, and they had re-read the letter, 
 and spread out the two bills to look at them again. 
 
 "Not home?" Dora exclaimed, her eyes open- 
 ing wide in surprise, at the mere suggestion of 
 such a course, She had the money safely clutched 
 in her hand now. 
 
 Billie knit his lordly brow. Just because she 
 had been the one to think up the plan was really 
 no reason why she should take the lead in order-
 
 Billie Manages Things 141 
 
 ing their goings in and their comings out from 
 this time forth and forevermore, he mentally de- 
 cided. It was time he asserted his ancient au- 
 thority. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, right straight home," he said, 
 firmly. " Where else would we go, I should like 
 to ask you ? " 
 
 "Oh, Billie, I'm ashamed of you. You never 
 look ahead for fun, not one bit," and the Lamb's 
 voice was full of disdainful rebuke. "Go home, 
 indeed. We'll march back to town, and spend 
 heaps." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " Oh, butter for supper, and a few other little 
 things," returned Dora, loftily. Then the light of 
 knowledge broke in on the mind of William, and 
 all feelings of irritated pride vanished before his 
 old admiration for his comrade. It would be fine 
 to go home and show up the letter and the money ; 
 but what was such a meagre triumph compared to 
 going home in royal pomp and glory, with a 
 wagon load of outward and visible signs of their 
 wealth to dazzle the Nest dwellers, and spring a 
 whole surprise party on them? 
 
 So back to town they went with the precious 
 letter and one bill in Billie's pocket, and the other 
 one tied up in Dora's handkerchief, and clasped 
 tightly in her brown hand. In this manner
 
 142 Rook's Nest 
 
 was the responsibility divided, and each felt an 
 equal amount of importance as they wended then- 
 way to the largest store in East Elmore. 
 
 Mr. Hartwell, the grocer, smiled when the two 
 dusty, red-cheeked children came into his store, 
 and climbing up on stools, leaned their elbows on 
 the counter with their chins on their palms, and 
 regarded him confidentially. 
 
 " We want to order a whole lot of things, and 
 we want to borrow one of your wagons, Mr. Hart- 
 well, and will you let Fred take the things out 
 home at once, please ? " 
 
 Mr. Hart well's smile faded to a puzzled look of 
 inquiry. Nearly every one in East Elmore knew 
 of the Nest and its inmates, and there was a gen- 
 eral impression that the coffers of the Princess's 
 treasury were not full to overflowing, but rather 
 the contrary. 
 
 "Oh, it's all right," said Dora, reading his 
 doubts in an instant, and after some tugging and 
 untying she produced her bill, and smoothed it 
 out on the counter with loving fingers. " There's 
 one, and we've got another one just it's twin, and 
 we've got a letter from our rich aunt in Boston, 
 and if you don't believe it, you can see the letter." 
 
 "What's your order, Billie?" asked Mr. Hart- 
 well, his smile returning instantly, "and I'm 
 mighty glad for you, too."
 
 Billic Manages Things 143 
 
 Dora started the list with a barrel of flour, and 
 a full line of staple articles with housewifely dig- 
 nity, and then Billie put in his items. 
 
 "A lot of pickles, sweet, sour and mixed, and 
 some cocoanut, and all the things you put in a 
 plum pudding, and some deviled tongue, and soft 
 shell crabs, and " 
 
 " No crabs, Billie." 
 
 " What have you got then, that comes nearest 
 to them ? " asked William, anxiously. 
 
 " Shrimps, lobster, salmon, sardines " 
 
 " Put in some of the whole lot," ordered the 
 lord of the Palace, and the twenty dollar bill 
 seemed to swell beyond the bounds of even the 
 Wolligog, and its glorious possibilities were with- 
 out limit in his eyes. " That's all, I think," he 
 added, after a minute more, and the bill was paid 
 in full 
 
 " We'll be back in a few minutes, to ride home 
 on the wagon with Fred," called Dora, as they 
 were leaving. Then a fresh idea popped into her 
 head, and she ran back. 
 
 " Oh, and say, Mr. Hartwell, please slip in a 
 stick of candy for the Lion." 
 
 "Make it six," commanded Billie, grandly over 
 her shoulder, and they went out for a stroll until all 
 should be ready for the triumphal progress home. 
 
 It was about half past twelve. Marjorie had
 
 144 Rook's Nest 
 
 called and called until she was breathless, but 
 neither Billie nor Dora appeared ; and when they 
 failed to show up at dinner time, there was cause 
 for alarm, for they never neglected that important 
 function whatever happened. 
 
 At first Marjorie had not noticed their absence 
 so much, for Mr. Keith had come in with a letter 
 from Bob, and had read it aloud to her and Avis 
 and the little ones. Avis had listened with an 
 unwonted look of interest in her face, but Muggins 
 could not keep from going to the door and shad- 
 ing her eyes for a glance down the road for the 
 truants. 
 
 Winnie begged for the envelope to treasure, and 
 she and the Lion sat down on the doorstep and 
 looked at it hungrily. To Winnie the Red 
 Rover was all that she had dreamed of now that 
 he had really started off on his adventures, and 
 some bright day he would come home with flaunt- 
 ing plumes and blare of trumpets, laurel- 
 crowned and covered with glory, a prince indeed. 
 
 Rob wrote that he was homesick, but that so 
 many new, strange things were happening around 
 him that he had no time for worry or looking 
 back. He felt as if he were a squirrel on a wheel 
 in a cage. The wheel whirled, and he had to 
 whirl, too, or get left. So he whirled. His studies 
 were progressing finely and he thought it would
 
 Billie Manages Things 145 
 
 not be very long before he would be able to work 
 in earnest The letter was full of bright loving 
 messages to the children, of merry comical ad- 
 ventures for Billie, and words of good cheer and 
 hope for Marjorie. There was no message for 
 Avis. When he had written it, he remembered 
 her words, " Aren't you glad you're going ? " and 
 he thought that as yet he was not glad enough to 
 answer her. 
 
 " I am so proud of Hob," Marjorie said, when 
 Allyn had finished the letter, and she sighed 
 softly, " I wish Billie could go away like that to 
 some college or school and make something of 
 himself." 
 
 Mr. Keith was silent, and she went out into the 
 garden to take another look for the runaways. 
 
 " It would not do any good to send Billie away 
 like that," Avis said. "He is not clever like B.ob." 
 
 "I think that he is needed home here for a 
 while," answered Allyn, thoughtfully, and then he 
 turned suddenly and went out into the garden. 
 
 Marjorie was down at the gate, leaning over it 
 as she looked along the road. 
 
 " I have been wondering," said Allyn, going di- 
 rectly to her, " whether Billie would not care to 
 study with me this winter. That will be so much 
 better than his going away from home yet awhile. 
 "What do you think, Marjorie ? "
 
 146 Rook's Nest 
 
 Marjorie's brown eyes were sliining with unshed 
 tears as she turned to him impulsively with out- 
 stretched hands. 
 
 " Think ? " she repeated. " Why, I think that 
 it will be splendid. It's just what I've been long- 
 ing for all this time, to give him a fair chance so 
 that in a year or so if anything should happen, he 
 could enter college. It is so kind of you to offer, 
 and if only Billie will do his part " 
 
 A sound of rattling wheels made her pause, but 
 this was immediately supplemented by a succes- 
 sion of thrilling cheers, war whoops, and plain 
 every day yells. 
 
 "What on earth is that?" she began, her face 
 paling as she looked beyond the gate, and then 
 Fred Hartwell drove up with Billie and Dora 
 perched in state on top of a pile of sacks, barrels, 
 bags, and boxes, keeping up the music. At sight 
 of Muggins, Billie sprang down, and waved his 
 cap at her joyously. 
 
 " Hello," he shouted. " Look at that load, will 
 you," motioning proudly toward the wagon. " We 
 did it ourselves, the whole thing, and I think it's 
 the best surprise we ever made up. Fred, just 
 dump everything down on the grass. We'll look 
 out for them. Now, everybody walk into the sit- 
 ting-room.." 
 
 Wondering with an odd, heavy ache in her
 
 Billie Manages Things 147 
 
 heart what new trouble the two well meaning com- 
 rudos had brought her, Marjorie followed Mr. 
 Keith into the sitting-room where the others had 
 already assembled at the noise of the arrival. 
 
 " This," said Billie, opening the letter with a 
 flourish, "this loving, and most welcome epistle 
 is from our dearly beloved aunt, Miss Bethiah 
 Newell, of Boston, Mass." 
 
 " Oh, Billie, Billie, what have you done ! " cried 
 Muggins, laying her face on Reggie's curls, as he 
 stood beside her. Avis' face was white with pride 
 and anger, fierce, loving pride for the fair, gentle 
 mother's sake; but Billie ignored both unfavor- 
 able receptions, and proceeded to the reading of 
 Aunt Bethiah's letter. There was a dead silence 
 during the time. Dorals face was fairly shining 
 with happiness, and she squeezed Muggins' hand 
 reassuringly, but the squeeze failed to have the 
 desired effect When Billie had finished, he 
 handed over the remaining bill with considerable 
 ceremony, and Dora laid her change beside it in 
 his hand. 
 
 " There is the * trifle,' " he said, dropping the 
 money in Muggins' lap. " Some of it we've spent, 
 and if you two cooks do your part we wont need 
 the cook-book to-morrow. That's all, only I'd 
 like to say one thing. If her royal highness is 
 going to get huffy over the best thing that ever
 
 148 Rook's Nest 
 
 happened to us since we came, she ought to go 
 and fall down the well and make a dinner of moss 
 and polliwogs." 
 
 Marjorie looked at Avis. She stood at the west 
 window, her back was turned, but there was re- 
 bellious pride in every outline of the tall graceful 
 figure. Billie eyed her reflectively, and at last he 
 said, gravely: 
 
 " You're a stiff-necked damsel, Avis." 
 
 " I'm not," said Avis, indignantly. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you are, too. ' Behold pride goeth 
 before a fall, and confusion followeth upon a stiff- 
 necked people.' You are a stiff-necked damsel, 
 all right." 
 
 Avis checked the reply that arose to her lips, 
 and started for the door. 
 
 " Won't you have some of the good things to 
 eat ? " called Dora ; but there was no reply, and 
 they let her go. Marjorie looked anxiously at 
 Allyn, but he did not speak, and all at once the 
 silence was broken by the Lamb, who gasped ex- 
 plosively, " Oh ! " 
 
 " It's the two cents we didn't pay back," she re- 
 plied in response to Marjorie's startled query. 
 " We borrowed it to buy a postage stamp, and 
 we've got to pay Mr. Keith right away." 
 
 The debt was paid in full in spite of Mr. Keith's 
 urgent protests.
 
 Billie Manages Things 149 
 
 That night when the two girls were under the 
 shadow of the four poster, Marjorie hoped that 
 Avis would open her heart, and she was disap- 
 pointed when the latter absolutely declined talk- 
 ing of the letter, the money, the coming of Miss 
 Newell, or anything connected with her. So the 
 first shadow came between them, for Marjorie 
 could not but think she was in the wrong. 
 
 But in spite of Avis and her disapproval, the 
 days that followed were glorious days, brimful of 
 bustle and happiness. Blackberries were strictly 
 forbidden fruit at the Nest banquets, and cook- 
 books were rigidly debarred at meal time. Billie 
 ate pickles until it seemed as if he would turn 
 into one ; and Marjorie even made cocoanut cro- 
 quettes. Then there was the pudding, plum pud- 
 ding, a beautiful marvel of toothsome dainties, a 
 thing to yearn and hunger after greatly, Billie de- 
 clared. It was made strictly according to the 
 recipe he had read so often at the " make believe," 
 feasts, now a delicious reality. As for the Lion 
 and the Owl, they wandered about in a state of 
 unspeakable bliss, and Marjorie's old joyous laugh 
 came back in the glad new time of plenty. 
 
 She had written to Boston, and received a long, 
 loving letter from Aunt Bethiah telling, when she 
 would arrive at East Elmore, and all was bustle 
 and excitement at the Nest,
 
 150 Rook's Nest 
 
 Avis absolutely refused to say anything regard- 
 ing the expected guest, but the rest were all glad 
 she was coming, and Dora felt in duty bound to 
 write a letter on her own account. 
 
 ' ' DEAR AUNTIE : 
 
 " Your letter came to-day, and we think you are very 
 kind. You see, we thought you were going to be an aw- 
 fully mean old thing. Billie has been calling you the old 
 girl, and I called you the dragoness, and now, we're so glad 
 you're not a bit that way. Billie was going to write to-day, 
 but he don't feel very well. George Washington flew into 
 the Palace of a Thousand Delights and knocked the glass 
 covers off the boxes, and ate all his bugs off the pins. Bil- 
 lie was hopping mad, but George Washington died when he 
 tackled the butterflies, and we buried him this morning, 
 wrapped up in a flag. Billie felt so bad that he made up 
 some poetry for the shingle we had for a gravestone, and 
 this is it : 
 
 '"G. W. BANTAM. 
 
 " ' In Memoriam, September 1, 1900. 
 
 1 Oh, passerby, come wipe your eye, 
 And drop a tear for George. 
 The beetles filled him, 
 The butterflies killed him 
 And Washington died of gorge.' 
 
 " Lovingly, your niece, 
 
 "DOHA."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 The Lion's Cave 
 
 HOUSECLEANING at Rook's Nest began in earnest 
 now, and such a scrubbing as it received from the 
 schoolroom to the kitchen ! Not a single corner 
 was neglected and every one save Avis had a share 
 in the joyous turmoil. 
 
 It certainly was yery peculiar the way her 
 royal highness was acting. Billie puzzled over it, 
 and finally decided that she was " just plain 
 cranky," an opinion in which Muggins privately 
 concurred herself, for all the time that she 
 scrubbed and dusted, and Billie took up carpets, 
 and took down curtains in the fervor of his zeal, 
 while the Owl and the Lion set their numerous 
 possessions in order, and everybody fairly buzzed 
 with anticipation, all this time, Avis sat quietly 
 at the little desk, writing, writing, day after day 
 as though there were no such person in the world 
 as Aunt Bethiah Newell. Not a word did she say 
 to Marjorie though, not a word of complaint or 
 anger at the new condition of things, only her lips 
 were set in a firmer line than usual, and when her
 
 152 Rook's Nest 
 
 eyes met Marjorie's there was a look in them that 
 made the latter think twice before she returned to 
 her labor of cleaning. 
 
 "I wonder," Muggins said one day, stopping 
 her work on the step-ladder to look down on the 
 chief adviser, as a sudden problem presented itself 
 to her, " where we shall put her to sleep." 
 
 They were all at work in the ell room, and 
 Billie gave the window he was washing a last rub 
 before he said, cheerfully : 
 
 " I tell you. If the old girl won't mind being 
 a bit cramped on the lounge, why, I'd just as soon 
 sleep out in the barn as not. And I can tell her 
 how to manage so that the broken spring won't 
 curl around her spine, you know." 
 
 "Don't be funny, Billie," Marjorie said, se- 
 verely. "We will have to put her in the four 
 poster with Avis, and I will sleep on the lounge." 
 
 " And I ? " inquired William, mildly. " Am I to 
 be tied up with blue ribbons to the pump ? " 
 
 Marjorie looked him over with an unconcealed 
 anxiety in her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, no, no, Billie, not the pump," she said, 
 comfortingly. " You might try the hammock." 
 
 "'Tis well. We will sleep in the hammock," 
 commented his lordship. " Dora, you will have to 
 rock me to sleep every night, hereafter." 
 
 Dora was busy polishing the marble-topped
 
 The Lion's Cave 153 
 
 table to the last degree of cleanliness, and treated 
 his order with the silent disdain it deserved, when 
 all at once a shadow fell across the floor as Mr. 
 Koith's head appeared at the open window. 
 
 "Hello," cried Billie, "jump right in. Never 
 mind the door." 
 
 But Allyn disregarded the good advice, as he 
 nodded smilingly at the figure on the ladder, and 
 held up a letter teasingly before the eyes of the 
 menagerie. 
 
 " Me ! " shouted Billie and Dora in one breath, 
 as they scrambled up and made for the window in 
 hot haste, and the Lion set up a rival roar for 
 possession as he dashed ahead of the Owl. Even 
 Marjorie held out her hand for it.; but Allyn 
 laughed at them all, and tossed the letter over in 
 Avis' lap. 
 
 "For Avis?" queried Billie, in astonishment. 
 " Well, I never," and there was a decided tone of 
 grievance in his words as he looked at Avis. Her 
 face had flushed warmly at sight of the business 
 letter-head, and Marjorie saw from her perch on 
 the ladder that her hands were trembling as she 
 tore the envelope open, and drew out the letter. 
 There was only a brief, terse, business-like line ; 
 but as she read, the words seemed to dance before 
 her eyes, and something rise chokingly in her 
 throat
 
 154 Rook's Nest 
 
 "Dear Madam:"- So the letter said. ""We 
 beg to inform you that your story, ' A Prince in 
 Disguise,' is accepted, and will be published in 
 our magazine shortly. Enclosed please find check 
 for same." 
 
 Check for same ! Avis let the paper fall from 
 her hand, and looked at the narrow slip of paper 
 that lay unheeded on the desk. Then the lump in 
 her throat grew larger, and some big tears 
 splashed down on her hands. 
 
 "What is it, dear?" asked Marjorie, who had 
 climbed down, and come to her side. " Not bad 
 news ? " and she slipped her arms around her 
 neck as she saw the tears. 
 
 Without a word, Avis handed the check to her 
 and Marjorie read in amazement. 
 
 " Twenty-five dollars ! " 
 
 "Go on," said Billie laconically, looking from 
 one to the other. 
 
 " No, no, it's true," Marjorie returned, excitedly, 
 as she flung her arms in good earnest about Avis. 
 " I knew you were a genius, Avis, and I was always 
 sure you would succeed some day, dear." 
 
 Avis' eyes were shining brightly as she re- 
 ceived Mr. Keith's congratulations and saw the 
 look of pride in Muggins' happy face. Twenty- 
 five dollars was not so very much, but it meant so 
 much to her, a hundred times its real value. It
 
 The Lion's Cave 155 
 
 meant that after all her " scribbling " had not been 
 in vain ; it meant proof to the others that she was 
 of some use ; and it meant, too, what she longed 
 for more than anything else now, the beginning of 
 independence ; but still she did not speak. 
 
 " You have gained the first step," Allyn said, 
 " bo patient, and work hard, and it will be only a 
 question of time before you will find yourself a 
 winner." 
 
 " I wish," Avis began, and then paused. 
 
 " What, dear ? " asked Marjorie. 
 
 " I wish that I were in a great city like Rob ! " 
 Avis concluded, slowly, her eyes looking out of the 
 west window through which the sunset had just 
 begun to throw rays of crimson. There was si- 
 lence for a few moments and then Allyn said : 
 
 "Of course you would have a better chance 
 then, that is, if you were a boy like Rob." 
 
 "I wish I were a boy," Avis said, half laugh- 
 ingly, and half in earnest. 
 
 "If wishes were horses, beggars might ride," 
 Billie said, gaily. " Guess her royal highness 
 would drive a span." 
 
 Avis drew a quick sigh. 
 
 "Anyway," she said, and there was a new ring 
 of confidence in her voice, " anyway, I have this, 
 and it is a good start. I am not afraid now." 
 
 After that her royal highness soared above the
 
 156 Rook's Nest 
 
 rest of the Nest dwellers. Day after day she sat 
 at the little rosewood desk, writing, ever writing, 
 but the time had passed when the children of her 
 fancy made their debut in the quiet kitchen, before 
 a select audience of critical but highly appreciative 
 persons. Not a line of this new creation had been 
 seen by even Marjorie, not a hint of its wonderful 
 plot breathed to a soul. Day by day, the neat pilo 
 of paper on the desk shelf grew higher, each sheet 
 clear and dainty, like everything Avis did; and 
 day by day her hopes grew stronger, and visions 
 of untold wealth danced like a new Arabian Night's 
 dream through the author's head. 
 
 But while Avis mused, and Marjorie worked 
 and sang, there was dire trouble between the two 
 rival factions in the remainder of the family. 
 Every day the Owl and the Lion deliberately 
 waited for a chance to run away from the other 
 two, and then suddenly disappeared off the face of 
 the earth. Billie had tracked them as far as where 
 the ravine ended at the water's edge, but there had 
 lost the trail. Dora had sat in the barn window 
 and tried to trace their course from that eyrie, but 
 in vain. 
 
 "They take the boat, that's sure," Dora said, 
 emphatically, when the two had followed the run- 
 aways all the morning, "and if Muggins knew 
 that, she'd have seventeen fits."
 
 The Lion's Cave 157 
 
 " Well, I don't care," retorted Billie, with ruffled 
 dignity. "It isn't fair to us. They're children, 
 and can't be trusted to have secrets. Maybe they 
 go down and play tag with the muskrats." 
 
 " No, sir-ree, it's something great, I know it is," 
 the Lamb's tone fell to a mysterious pitch. " Some- 
 thing they're afraid we'll know, something perfectly 
 lovely. I saw them carrying boxes down this way, 
 and Reggie's dolls and lots of things. Now, where 
 do they put them ! " 
 
 Billie frowned and chewed some hay for conso- 
 lation. The two lay on huge piles of fragrant hay 
 up in the barn loft. The wide window was open, 
 and the fall air heavy and still. A storm was 
 coming up. Over in the northwest the great 
 clouds rolled upward, dark beneath, grey white 
 above, and there was a rustle and shiver among 
 the dry leaves on the maples and apple-trees. At 
 the first flash and peal, the Lord and Lady hastily 
 deserted their palace and rushed pell mell to the 
 Nest for shelter. 
 
 " Put down the windows, Billie," called Marjorie, 
 as the rain fell in great sheets, and the thunder 
 seemed to roar and crack an arrow's flight from 
 the little house. " Tell Reggie to keep away from 
 the door." 
 
 Billie glanced about in dismay. He had for- 
 gotten all about the Lion and the Owl.
 
 158 Rook's Nest 
 
 "Why why they aren't here," he exclaimed. 
 "They must have gone to the barn, or to Mr. 
 Hogers', or some place." 
 
 But Marjorie would not believe it. They were 
 out in the storm, she knew, cuddled down under 
 some bush or tree, half scared to death, and she 
 was going out to find them. 
 
 "What nonsense, Muggins," called Avis' slow, 
 soft voice from the desk corner. " Of course 
 they're at the farm. Winnie would have seen the 
 storm coming up. She isn't a baby." 
 
 Marjorie hesitated. She had caught an old 
 shawl from the nail in the entry, all ready to dash 
 out in search of her treasures, but somehow Avis' 
 words, as usual, had cooled her excitement. She 
 stood by the kitchen window, her face pressed 
 against the pane, all beaded with shining rain- 
 drops, and waited, half expecting every minute to 
 see two, drenched, forlorn little figures come steal- 
 ing through the rain mist. But none came. 
 
 Avis kept on writing tranquilly, and Billie had 
 tumbled into the deep Sleepy Hollow chair, his 
 head on the seat cushions, his feet hanging over 
 the top, reading the terrific adventures of " Com- 
 modore Tom, or the King of Coral Island." The 
 Lamb alone shared Marjorie's anxiety. Side by 
 side the two stood, with arms around each other, 
 and Dora was thinking of the "Black Pirate/'
 
 The Lion's Cave 159 
 
 wondering if it had gone on a wild cruise down 
 the river, but she did not tell Marjorie. 
 
 "I am going over to the farm," the latter 
 announce^ firmly, at the first sign of breaking 
 clouds. " Won't you come, Avis ? " 
 
 " No, dear, I'm too busy." 
 
 Marjorie's lips tightened, and with only the 
 Lamb for company she started down the road 
 leading to the farm. 
 
 " It isn't that I'm afraid," she said. " Only I 
 want to be sure." 
 
 Mrs. Kogers was mending at the side bay win- 
 dow, and nodded smilingly to them as they came 
 up the path between the tall rows of hollyhocks 
 and bouncing Betsies. 
 
 " Pretty bad storm, wasn't it ? " she called. 
 " See the big walnut where the lightning struck it ? 
 Father's gone to see after the cattle down by the 
 river." 
 
 " Is Reggie here ? " asked Marjorie, breath- 
 lessly. " He and the Owl haven't been home at 
 all, Mrs. Rogers, and I'm so worried." 
 
 "Land, child, no, they ain't been here." Mrs. 
 Rogers dropped her stocking ball to the floor, 
 and rose anxiously. " Haven't been home ! You 
 don't say. Land ! " 
 
 " They must be lost somewhere," and Marjorie's 
 face grew earnest and determined as she pushed
 
 160 Rook's Nest 
 
 the old red sliawl back from her head, and started 
 away. As she turned from the porch, she saw 
 Mr. Rogers coming up from the meadow, his high 
 topped boots wet from the tall soaked grass. He 
 was holding something in his hand, a queer, 
 shapeless, dripping something. 
 
 " Hello, Muggins ! " he said, cheerily. " Tell 
 Reggie I found one of his doll babies down by the 
 river, and if he doesn't take better care of his 
 family, they'll all have measles and croup and 
 toothache." 
 
 There was no answering merriment from the 
 girls. Marjorie caught the poor little rag doll in 
 her arms, and her eyes filled with tears, though 
 she tried to be brave and sensible. 
 
 " Reggie must have dropped it," she said. " He 
 and Winnie are lost, Mr. Rogers. Where did 
 you find it?" 
 
 " Right down by the ravine," replied Mr. 
 Rogers, his face grave and troubled. " Lost ? 
 Those babies? Land o' Goshen, and in that 
 storm, too. Come on, though, we'll find them. 
 Mother, you'd better fix some hot ginger tea, and 
 go over to the little house, and you two come 
 with me." 
 
 It did seem so good to have some one to take 
 the lead. Some one so kind and strong. Dora 
 and Marjorie tramped obediently after Mr. Rogers ;
 
 The Lion's Cave i6r 
 
 and, as they went by the Nest, Dora gave her 
 favorite war-whoop, that was ever the summons 
 signal for Deadshot Billie. 
 
 Billie heard it, and " Commodore Tom " was 
 flung into a corner. 
 
 " Coming, Avis ? " he asked, over his shoulder. 
 
 "No, I'm not," returned her royal highness. 
 " You'll probably find them in the barn, and I'm 
 not going to be bothered. I'm just at an interest- 
 ing point" 
 
 " Oh, just write, * And the villain still pursued 
 her,' and come on," teased Billie. "Maybe you'll 
 be sony." 
 
 But Avis only shook her head, and he joined 
 the rest of the search party, already far past the 
 barn. 
 
 " They aren't in the Palace," Dora told him ; 
 then he saw the rag doll, and thought of the boat 
 at once, and the two comrades were silent as they 
 followed Mr. Rogers and Marjorie to the ravine. 
 
 A wet, autumn wind was blowing, a " talky 
 one," Winnie used to call that kind, when she 
 heard it whispering and calling around the trees. 
 The bottom of the ravine was full of fallen leaves 
 soaked through, and it was chill and desolate all 
 around. 
 
 "There's the 'Black Pirate,' " cried Dora, hope- 
 fully, discovering the little boat under the willows
 
 1 62 Rook's Nest 
 
 and reeds, " but I don't see any footprints. The 
 rain must have washed them away." 
 
 " I found the doll right there by the wall," said 
 Mr. Rogers, pointing to the old stone wall that 
 divided the ravine from the pasture, and kept the 
 cattle in their own territory. 
 
 Marjorie's face was pale under its coat of tan, 
 and her voice unsteady, as she placed her hands 
 to her lips, and called the runaways' names. But 
 there was no response save for a cat-bird answer- 
 ing shrilly in the distance, and she stopped in 
 despair. 
 
 Billie took her place, standing on the stone 
 wall, and yelling like a Sioux on the warpath. 
 The Lamb, however, was busy in another way. 
 She had climbed into the boat, and was perched 
 on the middle seat bailing out the water, when all 
 at once she paused, and stared at something a few 
 rods down the shore. There was a mound there, 
 nearly hidden by the willows, a queer round 
 mound that looked like an inverted chopping 
 bowl. The grass grew thickly on its top, but 
 directly in front, facing the water, a large lump of 
 earth had become dislodged by the heavy rain, 
 and crumbled away, exposing to view a semi-circle 
 of stone or rock which looked very strange in such 
 a place. 
 
 Moreover, a couple of birch saplings had fallen
 
 The Lion's Cave 163 
 
 before it, and what had attracted Dora's attention 
 was the shaking of the under branches. 
 
 While Billie was yelling himself hoarse on the 
 stone wall, the Lamb quietly made her way to the 
 mound, for a closer view. Being a worthy fol- 
 lower of Billie the Bold, she was not one whit 
 afraid, but dragged the branch aside, and lo! 
 Something was moving out of the pile of fallen 
 earth ! Slowly and with great effort it came, and 
 Dora grasped it firmly, and called to Marjorie. It 
 was the end of the punting pole from the boat 
 
 " They're at the other end," she exclaimed, ex- 
 citedly. " Trying to dig out" 
 
 " Dig out of what ? " asked Marjorie, in bewil- 
 derment, but Billie had discovered the stone curve 
 at the top of the mound, and, seizing a flag stick, 
 went to work digging, too, with the Lamb help- 
 ing. Presently they had made a fair sized hole 
 around the pole end, and Billie took a firm hold 
 of the pole and pulled. There was a frantic jerk 
 from the other end, and a faint, smothered yowl 
 sounded, so dear to Marjorie, that she could have 
 cried for joy. Billie begun digging at the top 
 now, while the rest pulled the pole, and at last he 
 gave a triumphant cry, and vanished through 
 the aperture. A minute more, and there was a 
 mighty lurch forward of earth, and the secret hid- 
 ing place of the Owl and the Lion lay open to the
 
 1 64 Rook's Nest 
 
 world, and the amazement of men. First, there 
 was the half moon of stone like the entrance to a 
 tunnel, so overgrown with weeds and tall grass 
 that unless one were directly opposite it, it was 
 completely hidden from sight. The top of it was 
 only four feet from the ground, but there was 
 quite two feet that one had to step down before 
 one stood in the secret chamber. 
 
 As for this latter, Marjorie and Dora knelt 
 down and stared into it in astonishment. It was 
 a long, dim cave of stone and cement, about eight 
 feet deep, and in the centre of it stood the two 
 red-eyed, tearful, frightened runaways. There 
 was a plentiful supply of earth sprinkled in their 
 towsled hair. Winnie's dress was hopelessly 
 torn, but not a cross word was said. Billie lifted 
 the Lion and handed him out to Marjorie' s eager 
 arms, and the Owl followed. Not so Billie. He 
 stood in the centre of the cave, arms akimbo, in- 
 terested and admiring. It was a wonderful den. 
 All of Reggie's dolls were ranged against the walls 
 in stately array, and Winnie had smuggled some 
 of her favorite story books down there. There 
 was an old braided mat in one corner. Mar- 
 jorie had hung it on the clothesline to dry once 
 and it had fallen into the hands of the robbers. 
 There were also some of Avis' discarded ribbons 
 and bits of silk.
 
 THE FRIGHTENED RUNAWAYS
 
 The Lion's Cave 165 
 
 " Wo like to dress up and make believe we're 
 pirates an' an' fairies, an' gun-momes," ex- 
 plained Winnie, sobbingly. 
 
 " An' wobberth," put in Reggie, dolefully. " An' 
 thee therpenth." 
 
 " An' it started to rain, so we just cuddled down 
 to wait till it was over, an' I was telling a story, 
 an' Reggie went to sleep. An' it rained, an' rained, 
 an' rained, an' I went to sleep, too, an' that's all, 
 till I woke up, an' heard Billie calling." 
 
 " Bet a cookie you'd hear that," chuckled Billie. 
 
 " Then we tried to get out, an' couldn't." 
 
 " And then ? " asked Marjorie, lovingly. 
 
 " Then we just cried, and poked with the pole," 
 concluded the Owl, with a sigh of relief. 
 
 " But what is it anyway ? " asked Dora, jumping 
 down into the cave where Mr. Rogers had already 
 joined Billie. 
 
 " Well, it goes with the Randall farm, that's all 
 I know," said Mr. Rogers, as he pounded on the 
 cement wall and thumped on the ground. " Your 
 uncle fixed it long ago for one of his crazy ideas, 
 but I don't know what the idea was. He had 
 workmen over from Elgin, and they were down 
 quite a while. Seems as if he used to say he was 
 going to lay water pipes from the river up to the 
 house, and this must have been the starting place." 
 
 " Of course," exclaimed Billie. " The river
 
 1 66 Rook's Nest 
 
 rises way over this when it's full. Gee wollikins ! 
 what if it had started to come in to-day." 
 
 " Billie, stop," commanded Marjorie, indignantly. 
 "As if we hadn't had enough worry without 
 making a little more. Everybody hustle and help 
 get these two damp chickens home and to bed 
 before they catch cold." 
 
 So Billie bore the Lion in his arms, and Mr. 
 Rogers held Winnie, and the procession wended 
 its way to the little house. 
 
 It was growing dark. Mrs. Rogers had brewed 
 ginger tea, and was watching anxiously at the back 
 door. When it grew too dark to see the paper 
 plainly, Avis laid aside her pencil, and awakened 
 from her day dreams to everyday life. 
 
 " Oh, haven't they come back yet," she ex- 
 claimed, when she entered the kitchen. Mrs. 
 Rogers shook her head, and slipped her arm 
 around the slim figure. She liked Avis, as she 
 did the rest. That is, all save Marjorie, who held 
 sway in her heart on a pedestal only a little way 
 beneath Rob. When Billie would dilate confi- 
 dentially on her royal highness's oddities, Mrs. 
 Rogers would only laugh. 
 
 " Land, don't you know smart people can't be 
 like everyday folks, Billie? They just can't. 
 Look at Rob. He'd start out to plow, and by an' 
 by father would see the oxen and the plow down
 
 The Lion's Cave 167 
 
 in a shady corner, and Bob would bo off drawing 
 pictures, or catching squirrels, maybe. Of course, 
 it's harder on Muggins to have her so, but she'll 
 come out all right, yei She's only a half grown 
 kitten, anyway. Let her write and study. It's 
 seldom enough that kind come into the world, 
 that's what I told father when he'd scold Rob." 
 
 Billie would listen very politely and respect- 
 fully, and say " Yes'm," and go away feeling the 
 same resentment toward Avis he always did, and 
 believing her to be as much of a crank as ever. 
 But Avis always felt that she had a place in Mrs. 
 Rogers' warm heart; and, while she never liked 
 either Rob or his father, she could not help feel- 
 ing grateful for the sympathy and love of the old 
 lady, whem all save Winnie and the Lion blamed 
 her at the little house. 
 
 To-night a quick pang of remorse swept over 
 her, as she saw the figures coming through the 
 purple shadows, and the burdens which two of 
 them bore. 
 
 " Are they hurt ? " she asked, meeting them half 
 way. Before Marjorie could reply, Billie ex- 
 claimed in one of his impulsive, unfortunate 
 bursts : 
 
 " No'm. Not quite dead yet, thank you. But 
 if we hadn't gone after them, they'd have been 
 buried alive in a hole in the ground for all your
 
 1 68 Rook's Nest 
 
 royal Ink Blotness cared. Go on back to your 
 old chapters. We can look out for them all right, 
 without any of your help, thank you. Go con- 
 centrate your thoughts." 
 
 " Avis, don't mind what Billie says," called Mar- 
 jorie, pleadingly, but Avis had stopped short in 
 the path at the first word, and, turning, had walked 
 back to the house, silent and hurt. 
 
 After the two runaways had been put to bed, 
 and been " gingered," as Billie called it, Marjorie 
 w r alked half way back to the farm with Mrs. 
 Rogers, talking over the plans for the coming of 
 Aunt Bethiah Newell. She had almost forgotten 
 Avis, when suddenly, as she was passing the little 
 garden on her way home, she saw a figure over be- 
 neath the lilac bushes. 
 
 " Avis, is that you ? " she asked, hesitatingly. 
 The moon had not yet risen and it was so dark 
 she could hardly see at all. 
 
 Silence a moment, then a broken voice said in a 
 low tone : 
 
 " Yes, but I want to be alone, please." 
 
 " Why, Avis Randall, you're crying ! " cried 
 Marjorie, hurrying through the dew wet grass and 
 kneeling beside her. "You don't mind what 
 Billie says, do you ? " 
 
 "Yes, I do," replied Avis, between her sobs. 
 " I try and try so hard to work and make some-
 
 The Lion's Cave 169 
 
 thing of myself so you will all have plenty, and 
 you arc all against me, and laugh at me, and think 
 I'm al \\.iys wrong. I wish" 
 
 " What ? " Marjorie's arms were clasped around 
 IUT. "Don't wish any crazy things. Maybe 
 tin -re's a fairy godmother around who'll give it to 
 you. And you know how we all love you." 
 
 But Avis did not reply, and after a while, when 
 her nose and eyes were not quite so red, they went 
 into the house. 
 
 And Billie, shrewdly guessing many things, 
 hunted up some new apples, and some ancient 
 molassess candy, and offered them up as a peace 
 sacrifice, but her royal highness's wrath remained 
 unappeased and she sought the shelter of the four 
 poster, and buried her sorrows in Pillowdom, leav- 
 ing Muggins to puzzle alone over this new, unruly 
 imp of discord which had appeared in the merry 
 little home circle.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 All Hallows' Eve 
 
 " WELL, there's one thing, anyhow," Dora said, 
 one day in the barn sometime after Avis' receipt 
 of the check, when she and Billie were holding a 
 secret session to discuss the subject. " It doesn't 
 make her one bit nicer. She goes off more than 
 ever since she got that letter, pokes off all by her 
 lonesomes, and scribbles, and scribbles, and 
 scratches away at old stories all the time. And 
 she's getting wrinkles, too." 
 
 " Go on," said Billie, in mild suspicion. " That's 
 a big one." 
 
 "No, sir-ree, it is not," protested the Lamb, 
 earnestly, shaking her head solemnly over the 
 evils which had come to pass. " She's got two 
 little puckery ones over her nose where she scowls 
 so much, and she sets her teeth hard, and doesn't 
 always hear you when you speak to her, and she 
 won't eat much, or talk much, or anything." 
 
 " Geewollikins," gasped Billie, his eyes wide 
 with apprehension. "What will Muggins do if 
 she does something crazy." 
 170
 
 All Hallows' Eve 171 
 
 Dora sighed heavily, and gave Darling's neck a 
 meditative poke with her finger as she sat on the 
 edge of the manger. 
 
 " No," she said at last, " I don't believe she'd do 
 anything really crazy. I think's it's all on ac- 
 count of Aunt Bethiah." 
 
 " Think she won't receive our fairy godmother 
 with open arms ? " asked Billie, chewing a straw, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " No, I don't," returned the Lamb, emphatically. 
 " I think something queer is going to happen." 
 
 If she had said it in an ordinary tone of voice, 
 Billie would not have minded ; but she spoke 
 slowly, and " solemncholy," as the Lion would 
 have said. The sunset glow had faded from the 
 shadowy barn, making it dim and spooky, so 
 Billie the Bold looked over his shoulder and felt 
 the shivers descending on him, and deeming discre- 
 tion the better part of valor, he acted accordingly. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " called the Lamb after 
 his swiftly retreating figure. 
 
 "Supper," returned the Lord of the Palace, 
 cheerfully, thereby concealing his moral weakness 
 by a growing physical one, and, with a sigh, Dora 
 slipped down from her perch on the manger, and 
 followed him. 
 
 " Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown," was 
 said long, long ago, and certainly the crown of the
 
 172 Rook's Nest 
 
 sovereign of the kingdom of Rattletibang pressed 
 heavier ever day. Someway the home life was not 
 nearly so happy as it had been before Aunt 
 Bethiah had begun sending frequent and generous 
 donations toward its support. Of a sudden, Mar- 
 jorie found her position in the household changed 
 from that of the little mother who was alternately 
 adored and defied in spasmodic fluctuations of 
 sentiment, to that of a superior being of great im- 
 portance, a being to be revered and respected as 
 the possessor of much filthy lucre, and therefore 
 benefactress in general to a humble following of 
 dependents. When the Lion cuddled up in her 
 arms for his good-night kiss, he would nestle a 
 little closer nowadays as he whispered what he 
 wanted Santa Glaus to bring him for Christmas, 
 and Winnie developed a sudden mania for wash- 
 ing dishes, her special abhorrence before. " 'Cause 
 it makes Muggins' hands red, and Aunt Bethiah 
 won't like that ; " so she told Dora, privately. 
 
 Billie and the Lamb were not a bit meek and 
 lowly in their manner of doing reparation for past 
 wrongs. Just a shade more respectful, that wag 
 all ; but somehow, while she laughed, it hurt Mar- 
 jorie a little when Billie suggested gravely that 
 she lengthen her dresses like Avis wore hers, and 
 keep her hands clean, and try to wad her curls up 
 in a tight little " pug," like Mrs. Rogers did.
 
 All Hallows* Eve 173 
 
 " But why must I, Billie ? " she asked, wistfully, 
 standing in the doorway with the broom in one 
 hand and the dustpan in the other. " Won't I do 
 like this?" 
 
 "Nope. You've got to act grown-up and dig- 
 nified before the old girl," was her big brother's 
 answer. " Dora says you're most eighteen now. 
 Anyway, Mr. Keith says you're a regular kid." 
 
 " William Randall, did he say that ? " and Mug- 
 gins flushed as she caught Billie by his shoulders, 
 and squared him around to face her. "Honest 
 and time ? " 
 
 " Honest," protested Billie, calmly. " He said 
 you acted ever so much younger than you really 
 were." 
 
 " Oh, that's different," said Marjorie, with a sigh 
 of relief, but all the same Billie's words sank 
 deeply into her heart, and bred new thoughts 
 there. She could not exactly define the feeling, 
 but she realized that something had come between 
 Avis and herself, something that swept aside the 
 old sweet sympathy and frank confidence. Avis 
 held herself aloof from the little family chats and 
 confidences now, and, at night, beneath the shadow 
 of the four poster, she kept her own counsels, and 
 never talked of her ambitions or air castles any 
 more. 
 
 "She's ,i genius all right," Billie remarked,
 
 174 Rook's Nest 
 
 sagely, after a special exhibition of Avis' queer- 
 ness. " Geniuses are always half cracked, don't 
 you know they are, Muggins ? " 
 
 Marjorie shook her head wearily. She sat at 
 the kitchen table, her chin resting on her hands. 
 It was the last day that they would have by them- 
 selves ; for, although Aunt Bethiah had postponed 
 her visit for some weeks she was to arrive on the 
 morrow, and it had been an eventful day in the his- 
 tory of the Randalls. 
 
 There was much rivalry among the Rattleti- 
 bangers as to which one should bear the honor of 
 meeting and welcoming the coming guest. Billie 
 had long since announced his irrevocable decision 
 of being the first to hug the " old girl," and as for 
 the others, and their plans, why, they could fight 
 it out amongst themselves. William washed his 
 hands of the whole affair. 
 
 Marjorie was worried. She wanted to go her- 
 self, but when it came to taking the menagerie 
 along, too, she did not know exactly how to ar- 
 range it 
 
 " What time does the train come," asked Dora, 
 finally. 
 
 " About half -past seven at night, auntie wrote," 
 Marjorie said. 
 
 "Well, then," cried the Lamb, joyously, 
 " what's the matter with the whole circus going ?
 
 All Hallows' Eve 175 
 
 Don't you see, Aunt Bethiah will see us all at 
 once, then, and get over the shock quicker than if 
 we came like prize story instalments, one or two 
 chapters at a time. Let's all go." 
 
 So it was settled that they were all to walk 
 down to the depot, the following evening, and meet 
 the guest of honor with all ceremony. The Nest 
 was as spick and span as five pair of hands could 
 make it Even the Lion had done his share. 
 "Winifred and he had gone to the woods and 
 brought home brightly colored leaves, wonderful 
 affairs in red and gold, and deepest russets, and 
 the little home was profusely decorated with these. 
 Although she was very tired now that everything 
 was done, Marjorie felt a thrill of satisfaction and 
 contentment as she took a final look around the 
 rooms, and gave a last touch here and there. 
 
 It was All Hallows' Eve, and Mrs. Kogers had 
 invited all the children over to the farm to spend 
 the evening and have a royal good time in the old 
 fashioned way, and all were ready except Avis. 
 The menagerie and Billie were in the kitchen, 
 and his lordship was descanting upon the superior 
 merits of pop-corn and apples. 
 
 " 'Cause why ? " Marjorie heard him explain. 
 " 'Cause apples fill you up before you get all the 
 taste you want, but pop-corn " his voice rose 
 higher and became most emphatic, "pop-corn
 
 176 Rook's Nest 
 
 beats anything, 'cause you can eat and eat, and 
 then start in all over again, and eat some more. 
 The Lamb and I bet five cookies that we can eat 
 more pop-corn to-night than you and the Lion, 
 Winnie." 
 
 Marjorie did not wait to hear more, as it was 
 getting late, and they had promised to be at the 
 farm in time for supper, so she went to the school- 
 room to hurry up Avis. The door was ajar, and 
 a thin path of lamp light glanced through the dim, 
 shadowy sitting-room. Marjorie pushed the door 
 open, her face bright and happy. Over at the 
 desk sat her royal highness. Her back was to- 
 ward the door, but Marjorie saw that she was writ- 
 ing, and as she thought of the little ones waiting 
 for their good time, she could not help feeling a 
 little hurt and bothered. 
 
 " Are you ready, Avis ? " she asked, a trifle 
 crossly for her. 
 
 Avis raised her head at the sound of her voice, 
 and her own was low and a little unsteady as she 
 answered, shortly : 
 
 " I am not going with you to-night." 
 
 "Not going ! " echoed Marjorie, in surprise, go- 
 ing quickly to the desk, where she could look 
 down into Avis' telltale eyes, and read her reason 
 there. "Why not?" 
 
 " I want to write," Avis replied, not meeting her
 
 All Hallows' Eve 177 
 
 Then Marjorie saw that her face was white, 
 and that she had been crying, and in a moment all 
 her vexation had vanished, and she was herself, 
 tender and solicitous. 
 
 " Oh, let the old writing go for to-night, dear," 
 she said, impulsively, clasping her arms around the 
 slender bowed form at the desk. " Come and have 
 one out and out good time with us. It will do you 
 so much good. I know it will, and you look so 
 worn out and tired. Come on." 
 
 Avis shook her head, and tried to draw away 
 from the close embrace, but her sister went on : 
 
 " Why, you meant to go, too. You're all dressed 
 and ready." 
 
 She flushed guiltily. 
 
 " No, no, I didn't," she said, hesitatingly. " Do 
 go and leave me, I \vant to write to-night Never 
 mind me, Muggins." 
 
 "But the children ?" 
 
 " Oh, they won't miss me," and she laughed, an 
 odd little mirthless laugh that bothered Marjorie. 
 " As long as you are with them they will not mind 
 me." 
 
 " Oh, don't," pleaded Marjorie, anxiously. " We 
 want you so much, and it's our last night alone, 
 you know." 
 
 But Avis' head was bent over the desk, and she 
 was silent. Grieved and wondering, Marjorie
 
 178 Rook's Nest 
 
 turned reluctantly away, but she had hardly 
 reached the door, before Avis was beside her, her 
 arms thrown closely about her, and her face 
 pressed down on her shoulder. 
 
 " Don't go away from me like that, Muggins," 
 she whispered. "And don't be angry with me. 
 I I can't go." 
 
 Marjorie only smoothed the soft fair hair, as 
 tenderly as if it had been Winnie, and petted and 
 comforted her royal highness in a way that she 
 had not done since they had come to the Nest. 
 
 As if it mattered after all, she said, lovingly. 
 It was a nice kind of person who wanted other 
 people to be happy their way. If she wanted to 
 stay home and write, then all right. Angry ? Not 
 a bit. As if she could be angry when she was 
 straining every nerve to be famous and finish that 
 long story that was to set the world afire and make 
 the name of Randall one of highest honor. 
 
 " Are you girls ever coming, or have you gone 
 to bed ? " called Billie from the kitchen, and Mar- 
 jorie gave her royal highness a last kiss as she 
 started to obey the call. 
 
 " I hate to leave you here all alone," she said, 
 wistfully, hoping even now that she might relent 
 and come, but in vain. Avis had braced up, as 
 Billie said, all at once, and hastened her depart- 
 ure. Still, Marjorie had a queer feeling that there
 
 All Hallows' Eve 179 
 
 was something wrong as they left the little house, 
 and Avis stood in the doorway, watching them all 
 the way down the road, for with the trees stripped 
 of their foliage there was a clear view almost as 
 far as the Rogers farm. 
 
 But the menagerie was wonderfully impatient, 
 and fairly bubbled over with excitement as they 
 danced on ahead like goblins in the uncertain 
 light, and there was no time for Marjorie to linger. 
 If she had gone back then and there, and stayed, 
 it would have changed many things, and saved 
 many a heartache. How was she to know, though, 
 that when they were out of sight, the lone figure 
 in the doorway sank down in the entry all crushed 
 and desolate, her head on her arms, crying as Avis 
 rarely cried. How was she to know that after- 
 ward the same lone figure had stolen back to the 
 schoolroom, and sought the " mother's corner," to 
 try and gain some of the old strength and resolu- 
 tion from its influence. As it happened, she knew 
 nothing at all about it, and when Billie mildly in- 
 quired if her royal highness had another crank, 
 she did not refute the statement. 
 
 All during the long evening at the farm while 
 the children ate apples and popped milk-pans full 
 of corn, Marjorie could not banish the vague feel- 
 ing that something was wrong ; and, in the midst 
 of the laughter and merriment, her thoughts re-
 
 i8o Rook's Nest 
 
 curred constantly to Avis, and her sudden show of 
 affection. On the whole, she was glad when the 
 evening was over, and after Mrs. Rogers had 
 spread her good-night kisses impartially around, 
 the sleepy little band started homeward along the 
 moonlit road. 
 
 " You won't need a lantern, will you, childies ? " 
 she called as they left the garden, and Billie 
 laughed, and shouted back that they were not 
 afraid of spooks or spookesses, either. 
 
 There was a creepy wind abroad, a real, thor- 
 oughbred autumn wind that came in quick gusts 
 and swirls, with a shrill, sharp whistling through 
 the dry branches and loose leaves. Then the 
 ground was hard and bare, and there was frost, 
 and the very moonlight looked chilly and un- 
 friendly, as they huddled together like a flock of 
 sheep and hurried on toward the little house. 
 
 The Lion was the only one who caused delay. 
 He fairly bulged with apples tucked in every con- 
 ceivable place about him, one might almost say in- 
 side and out ; but at all events, Billie and the 
 Lamb each had hold of his hands, and thereby 
 hastened his movements so forcibly that every now 
 and then there would be a dull thud on the ground, 
 and the Lion would let out a sleepy wail for his 
 lost treasures, which had to be recovered before 
 any further progress was possible.
 
 All Hallows' Eve 181 
 
 " I wonder if her royal highness of the Imperial 
 Iiik Blot has been scribbling all this time, or if 
 the gobble-uns have got her," Billie grumbled, as 
 he dropped his chin deeper down into the depths 
 of his coat collar. "Bet a cookie she's let the 
 kitchen fire go out." 
 
 Thsy had rounded a slight curve in the road, 
 anl now the Nest could be seen among the 
 stripped lilac bushes. 
 
 " There isn't any light burning," Marjorie said, 
 as she peered eagerly through the gloom. " Guess 
 she's in bed. She looked so tired." Here she 
 stopped, and then quickened her step almost to a 
 run, pausing only to say to Billie over her shoul- 
 der : " If it is out, don't scold or tease, Billie, 
 please." 
 
 Billie nodded good-humoredly, and they all 
 started on a trot up the garden path. The house 
 was dark and dreary and the wind whistled in 
 every crack and crevice, and rattled every loose 
 board and shingle, but there was a cheery glow 
 from the kitchen where the warm red firelight 
 danced a jolly witch jig with its shadows, and 
 Marjorie whispered to them to walk on tip-toe, 
 and go right to bed, so as not to awaken Avis. 
 
 So it happened that it was not until after the 
 little ones were all undressed and tucked in bed, 
 the doors fastened, and the fire attended to for the
 
 1 82 Rook's Nest 
 
 night, that at last the little mother took a lamp 
 and started for the realm of the four poster. Not 
 more than two minutes later an apparition ap- 
 peared to Billie in the sitting-room, Marjorie with 
 her face blanched white with dread, and her brown 
 eyes wide and scared. 
 
 "Billie, Billie," she said, in a queer, broken 
 voice. " Are you awake ? " 
 
 " Sure," Billio returned, sitting up on his lounge 
 bed, towsle haired and round eyed. " What's up ? 
 Spooks?" 
 
 " S-sh ! " Marjorie whispered, warningly, " don't 
 let the children hear you." She glanced over her 
 shoulder out into the hall, and then came over to 
 the side of the lounge. 
 
 "Avis has gone," she said, simply. 
 
 So slight and small she looked in the semi- 
 darkness, with her hands clasped closely across 
 her breast, and her head bowed a trifle forward 
 that Billie was more frightened by her appearance 
 than by her words. Never before had he seen 
 Muggins, bright, happy, ever hopeful, Muggins, 
 so crushed and helpless, so different from her 
 strong, resolute self, and he swallowed bac 1 - a 
 lump in his throat as he asked, stupidly : 
 
 " Gone where ? " 
 
 " Chicago ! " answered Marjorie, and from her 
 tone, it might as well have been Kamchatka.
 
 Hallows' Eve 183 
 
 " She left tliis pinned to my pillow. Oh, Billie, 
 Billie, boy, what shall I do?" 
 
 Her voice broke, and she knelt beside him, her 
 hiinds pressed over her face as she sobbed unre- 
 strainedly. 
 
 "Don't, don't do that, Muggins," he faltered, 
 one hand clutching the slip of paper she had 
 given him, and the other patting the shoulder 
 nearest to him in a bewildered effort to impart 
 sympathy. " May maybe it's only a joke, one of 
 her funny ways, you know. Maybe she's gone 
 out for a walk, Muggins." 
 
 But Marjorie did not respond, and he remem- 
 bered the letter she had given him. The tall, old- 
 fashioned lamp with its plump, rosy-tinted globe, 
 and flower-twined stem, stood on the center-table, 
 and he lit it, and read the message which her 
 royal highness had left for them. It was a sad 
 little note, now brave and confident in tone, as it 
 foretold her great success, then again, pitiful and 
 forlorn as it begged them not to think her a de- 
 serter, that it was the only thing she could do to 
 add her mite to the commonwealth, and as long as 
 Aunt Bethiah Newell was coming, she could go 
 away with a free heart, knowing that they would 
 all be cared for. 
 
 They must not try to find her, or think that she 
 was going out into the world to be unhappy or
 
 1 84 Rook's Nest 
 
 poor. She had divided the story money, and 
 Muggins' share was in the little blue Chinese 
 sugar bowl in the pantry. With all that she her- 
 self had left, she could manage very well until she 
 got work on one of the newspapers or magazines or 
 something. When she had made her fortune, she 
 would come back to the Nest, and they would all 
 be happy with their very own money, and then, 
 perhaps, they would not think her a useless, 
 dreamy castle builder. 
 
 Billie sat up on the lounge, his knees drawn up 
 tentwise beneath the quilts, and his eyes staring at 
 the letter until the voice of Marjorie recalled him. 
 
 "Why don't you say something to help me, 
 Billie," she asked, without raising her head. " I 
 don't believe that you realize what it all means. 
 She's gone, gone away, and it's so cold and lone- 
 some outside, and maybe she had to walk through 
 the ravine, and she's always afraid down there at 
 night. Oh, what can we do ? " 
 
 If Avis had appeared then and there, there 
 would have been a strong inclination on the part 
 of Billie to fire pillows at her. As it was, he 
 scowled, pursed up his lips, winked hard for rea- 
 sons best known to himself, and tried not to look 
 down at the little figure in white kneeling beside 
 him. 
 
 " We can't do a thing, Muggins," he said, finally.
 
 All Hallows' Eve 185 
 
 " She was tired of us, and of the little house and 
 everything. She said it was all slow and com- 
 monplace, and and I suppose she'll be happier 
 off there in the city. Don't you worry a bit, 
 dear, or try to chase her up. Just let her alone, 
 and let her flap her wings all she wants to, and 
 if she's a bird, why, she'll fly, and if she's only a 
 chicken, then she'll come back home to roost." 
 
 There was no reply, but he could hear Mar- 
 jorie's low sobbing, and it frightened him. Even 
 when their mother had died, Marjorie had not 
 cried or given way like this, but had been quiet 
 and pale and still. 
 
 " You had better go to bed, Muggins," he urged, 
 leaning over to hug her, but she shook her head 
 with a quick gesture of dissent 
 
 "No, no, I can't go back there without her, 
 Billie," she said. " I can't sleep now, don't you 
 understand ? " 
 
 " Humph," murmured Billie, reflectively, think- 
 ing how queer girls were anyway. Of course Avis 
 had gone away, and it was too bad, and of course 
 he felt sorry, too ; but he didn't see why they 
 should lose all their sleep just because Avis had 
 cut up one of her crowning didoes. 
 
 Marjorie sat up, and pushed back her chair. 
 Her face was white and wet with tears, and her 
 eyes shone brightly in the semi-darkness, as they
 
 1 86 Rook's Nest 
 
 watched the glimpse of moonlit road barely visible 
 from the window. The minutes passed slowly. 
 Billie winked hard to try to keep awake for her 
 sake ; but after some hard, ineffectual nips at his 
 arms, his head drooped, he forgot to pinch, and 
 Marjorie kept her vigil alone. 
 
 She left the couch, and knelt by the window 
 after extinguishing the light. The wind was 
 blowing in fitful gusts, and every snapping twig 
 made her heart beat faster, and kept her senses 
 keenly alert. But the hours stole on and on ; 
 Billie slumbered soundly, and the only wakeful 
 heart in the kingdom of Kattletibang was that of 
 the forlorn princess, watching and waiting, and 
 hoping against hope, for the return of the run- 
 away.
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 
 
 AND Avis? 
 
 When the 8:45 train for Chicago sped away 
 into the night from the little station at East El- 
 more, it bore a girl in grey, with set, firm lips, and 
 clear tearless eyes, who never once looked out of 
 the window to catch a last glimpse of her home ; 
 but instead, arranged her satchel and jacket, and 
 settled herself comfortably for the long journey, 
 as if leaving home to go out into the world alone 
 were an every day occurrence. 
 
 Now that the decisive step was taken, and there 
 was no turning back, there was little room in her 
 heart for sadness, and none for regret. She was 
 so full of hope, of confidence in herself. That one 
 lone check had opened up the greatest possible 
 vista of what the future was to bring her. If one 
 small story could bring so much, what would hap- 
 pen when she consigned the precious manuscript 
 of her first long story to the eager waiting hands 
 of gracious publishers. No one knew how she 
 had worked over this last effort. She did not 
 even read it to Muggins or Billie. It was too 
 
 187
 
 1 88 Rook's Nest 
 
 wonderful and sacred a thing to be lightly spoken 
 of. It would be bound in green and gold, she de- 
 cided, leaning her head back on the velvet cush- 
 ioned seat, and watching the globes over the lamps 
 in the car tremble with the motion of the train. 
 Green and gold, that was the way the golden- 
 haired princesses were always garbed, and was not 
 this a royal offspring, the child of her fancy? 
 And the leaves would be of that heavy, beautiful, 
 cream tinted paper, like Muggins' copy of Long- 
 fellow on the centre-table at home. And there 
 would be her name in gold letters across the 
 cover, Avis Newell Randall, and how glad and 
 proud she would be when she sent the first copy 
 home with a generous share of the wealth it was 
 sure to bring her. 
 
 And the dedication. She closed her eyes 
 dreamily. "Would it be to Muggins ? Of course, 
 to Muggins. Whom else ? And here the globes 
 gradually became a blurr of soft light, the tired 
 eyelids drooped. The old gentleman across the 
 aisle glanced up and saw the girl in grey smiling 
 in her sleep, and wondered if she were so very 
 happy, and he sighed as he turned over the page 
 of his magazine. 
 
 Three hours was the scheduled time for the run 
 between East Elmore and Chicago, but to-night 
 the train was late, and it was nearly two o'clock
 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 189 
 
 when Avis was .awakened by the movement and 
 rustle of the preparations for departure by her fel- 
 low travelers, and the baggage agent came through 
 rattling his cluster of brass checks. No, she said, 
 with sleepy dignity ; she did not wish her trunk 
 checked, and then she nearly laughed aloud as she 
 remembered the little old-fashioned black trunk 
 which she had brought away from home. Then 
 she thought of the story Fred Hartwell would 
 have to tell Billie, of how he had been asked to 
 call at the Nest for the trunk and its owner, when 
 he drove along, after delivering groceries in Ba- 
 tavia over the river. - 
 
 She sat up, and looked out of the window. 
 Nothing to be seen, but dark rows of houses, then 
 tracks, with now and then the flash of a red or 
 green signal light in the darkness, and then at 
 last, came the long station with its bright, clear 
 electric lights, and the journey was over. 
 
 Without doubt, if it had been Marjorie, she 
 would have been frightened and bewildered at 
 finding herself at two in the morning alone in 
 Chicago, but Avis was different. City born and 
 bred, with her heart full of independence and con- 
 fidence, and with the munificent sum of ten dol- 
 lars and twenty-five cents in her pocketbook, she 
 felt that the whole city was hers, a kingdom 
 awaiting its conqueror.
 
 190 Rook's Nest 
 
 With this thought uppermost in her mind, she 
 followed the crowd up the broad marble staircase, 
 and entered the warm, cosy waiting-room. She 
 had planned it all out way back in East Elmore, 
 just how she would remain there until daylight, 
 and then go into the restaurant on the opposite 
 side of the stairs, and have coffee and rolls before 
 she started out to explore her kingdom, and the 
 program was carefully adhered to. 
 
 A few hours' more sleep with only the sing- 
 song tones of the official who announced the de- 
 parture of trains to break the silence, a few min- 
 utes for the ten cent breakfast, and she left the 
 depot at 8:30. 
 
 When Rob had spread his wings for the flight 
 from the home nest, the all important question 
 had arisen of where he was to live, and many 
 comical descriptions of boarding-houses and land- 
 ladies had he written home, to all of which Avis 
 had listened with the greatest interest, and now, 
 in her pocketbook, was a precious slip of paper 
 with a name and address on it. 
 
 "It is a fine place," Rob wrote. "I saw a 
 splendid old lady with white hair, but she only 
 took ladies to board, so I had to start off on a 
 fresh hunt. Mr. Keith gave me the name of that 
 place, so that I was awfully sorry to lose it." 
 
 Marjorie had been reading the letter aloud, and
 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 191 
 
 at this point Avis had turned to Mr. Keith as he 
 sat at the table looking over Billie's lessons, and 
 had asked: 
 
 " Where is the place, and what is her name ? " 
 
 " Madame Penionte," Alljn had replied, with a 
 reminiscent smile. " She is a charming old lady 
 with whom I boarded while in the city with my 
 mother, and now " he had hesitated, and a 
 shadow of sadness had come in his grey eyes, as 
 he bent lower over the books again, " now, mother 
 has gone, and I have not seen Madame for many 
 years. Things have changed, of course," and he 
 had written out the address and handed it to her. 
 
 So it was here that her royal highness deter- 
 mined to go, and every policeman from the North- 
 western depot to Dearborn Street was interrogated 
 as to the location of Madame's dwelling place, un- 
 til at last she found herself over another bridge, 
 and leaving the smoky, crowded heart of the city 
 behind. Straight ahead, the policeman at the 
 bridge had said, and she went on feeling strong 
 and capable of any achievement, observant of 
 everything around her, and with no thought of the 
 little Nest and its inmates, so very far away all 
 that part of her life seemed even now. 
 
 It was near Huron Street that she found the 
 place. A tall, brown stone four-story house, on 
 Dearborn Avenue, slim and plain, one of many of
 
 192 Rook's Nest 
 
 the same kind, only this one had square bay win- 
 dows and a low French doorway without steps, 
 opening directly on the street. As Avis raised 
 her hand to press the electric bell, the heavy door 
 of oak and plate glass swung suddenly open, and 
 a young girl came out in a hurry singing to her- 
 self, and almost running into Avis. 
 
 " Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, penitently, and 
 stopped to look at the stranger, her hands in the 
 pockets of her short tan-colored jacket, her brown 
 eyes full of interest. It was the brown eyes that 
 made Avis like her on the spot, because they 
 made her think of Muggins, and she asked if 
 Madame Penionte was at home. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; she's always at home," returned the 
 other, cheerfully. " "Want to see her ? All right, 
 wait half a minute. I'll hunt her up. You can 
 come, too." 
 
 Avis followed her into the low, dim vestibule, 
 and waited, while her new acquaintance vanished 
 into unknown regions, calling in a full, clear voice : 
 
 " Oh, Madame ! Madame, dear ! " 
 
 After a little delay she returned laughing. 
 
 " She'll be here in a minute or two," she said, 
 confidentially. " Just take a seat anywhere. Oh, 
 look out for the enameled chair. It's cracked. 
 You see, Madame' s got her puffs in curl papers, 
 and she doesn't want to come out until she's fixed.
 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 193 
 
 She's awfully particular. Are you going to 
 stay?" 
 
 " I hope so," Avis answered, simply. 
 
 " So do I. I'm the only one on the fourth, and 
 it's so lonesome. You can get the hall room for a 
 dollar. Good-bye. I have to be down at nine." 
 
 She nodded, and started for the door, but 
 turned again, her hand on the brass knob. 
 
 "What's your name? Mine's Betty Morgan." 
 
 " Mine's Avis EandalL" 
 
 " From the country ? " 
 
 Avis flushed, and became a shade more digni- 
 fied. It was terrible to look as if you came from 
 the country. 
 
 "Yes. Why?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know exactly. You were polite, 
 and anxious, and I thought perhaps you were. If 
 you get homesick, just have a good hard cry. It 
 clears you out better than anything I know. I 
 have only been here a little over a year. And, 
 honest and true, it isn't nearly as hard as it looks. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 She was gone, and Avis waited. For the first 
 time since she had left Book's Nest, her heart 
 failed her, and she felt a lump rise slowly in her 
 throat; but suddenly there was a soft footfall be- 
 hind her, and she rose to meet Madame Penionte. 
 A very stately, gracious old lady, as Mr. Keith had
 
 194 Rook's Nest 
 
 described her, clad in dull soft black, with a whk 
 chiffon tie around her throat, a trifle awry as if it 
 had been tied on in a hurry. Her eyebrows 
 arched, the corners of her mouth turned up with 
 a little half whimsical suggestion of a smile, her 
 nose was as aristocratically aquiline as Marie 
 Antoinette's, and the snow white hair was combed 
 high from the broad, fine brow with many a puff 
 and twirl. Truly a dame of high degree, Avis 
 thought, and a dread flashed though her mind that 
 the dame might possess the manner grande like- 
 wise, but when Madame addressed her the fear 
 vanished, for it was in a sweet, mellow voice that 
 might have come from some quaint old portrait, 
 and under its spell Avis' embarrassment melted 
 away. There was the merest suggestion of an 
 accent, the roll of an r, or an odd, long drawn out 
 
 " You wish to remain with me," she began, gen- 
 tly. "And you are strange here, too? Is is not 
 so?" 
 
 Then Avis told her brief story, that she was 
 from East Elmore, that Mr. Keith had told her of 
 Madame, and that she was a writer and had come 
 to the city to pursue her profession there, this last 
 with a half unconscious throb of pride, and a squar- 
 ing of her slender shoulders. At once Madame 
 was interested and sympathetic. Keith ? Ah, that
 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 195 
 
 was a charming couple, the son, yes, yes, Allyn, 
 that was it, he was ever so kind, so tender to his 
 mother, and she, Madame Keith, ah ! was it not 
 that she was so fine, so much the lady. And now, 
 Miss Randall was their friend, and would make 
 her home with her? That was well. She had 
 not so many young ladies now, only one in fact, 
 near Miss Randall's age ; that was Betty, or as 
 Madame called it prettily, Bettee ; and, as she said 
 the name, a soft look came in her eyes, as though 
 she loved it. 
 
 "Yes, I know her," Avis exclaimed, eagerly. 
 "At least I met her here this morning, and she 
 said that there was a room on the fourth floor near 
 her. Could I have that ? " 
 
 To be sure she could. And would not Bettee 
 be, oh! so glad to have her, for it was lonely 
 there by herself. 
 
 " And and the board ? " asked Avis, hesitat- 
 ingly, as she rose to go up-stairs. As she spoke, 
 she thought of her ten dollars, and it looked some- 
 what smaller. She had almost forgotten one had 
 to eat in the city. 
 
 Madame smiled, and made a quaintly deprecat- 
 ing gesture with her slender blue veined hands. 
 
 " I do not give board, but Bettee knows. She 
 will tell you all about how to eat." 
 
 Avis received this doubtful information in silent
 
 196 Rook's Nest 
 
 wonderment, but said no more. Madame took a 
 key, and Avis followed her up three flights of 
 steps to the first door at the top. It was a long 
 way up those three flights of stairs, even the first 
 time, and seemed longer every time she climbed 
 them in the weeks that followed. 
 
 " The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, 
 And I have many curious things to show you when you're 
 there." 
 
 That was what Betty would sing when she ran up 
 them, and it suited the long, narrow flights, twirl- 
 ing round and round until it seemed as though it 
 must be Jack's Beanstalk, only there was no ogre 
 at the top waiting for one. Nothing at all save a 
 plain, narrow hall with three doors, opening off it, 
 and an old-fashioned skylight overhead. 
 
 Avis found that her room was not at all luxuri- 
 ous ; but it was the one spot in the city that was 
 to be home to her, and it seemed good to have a 
 place she could call her very own. She looked it 
 over carefully. There was an oak three-quarter 
 folding bed that just squeezed in the space between 
 the doorway and the side wall, and she liked it be- 
 cause it had a full length mirror in it. Billie 
 would have said that was just like Avis. There 
 was a tall chiffonier, and a very small table, and a 
 worn camp-rocker. Best of all, though, was the 
 broad, double window looking out, not on the
 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 197 
 
 street so much as on the city. There was precious 
 little of the street to be seen, merely a bird's-eye 
 view, but the world of roofs lay open to her, and 
 a very interesting world it is, too, when one be- 
 comes accustomed to it, and can appreciate its 
 peculiar beauties. Many a lonely evening Avis 
 spent by that window before the frost came to 
 bluiT it, and the lights of the city would twinkle at 
 her like loving eyes. 
 
 That first day passed simply. After a general 
 freshening up of her toilette, her royal highness 
 started forth to view her new domain. First of all, 
 she had decided back at the Nest, she would visit 
 the office of the magazine which had accepted her 
 story, " A Prince in Disguise." Surely the au- 
 thorship of a story in five chapters would entitle 
 her to some esteem in the eyes of the publisher. 
 And perhaps she could secure some good advice 
 as to her new story, that wonderful story which 
 was to thrill the world, and shower ducats on the 
 little Nest. 
 
 She found the place without any trouble, a tall 
 handsome building on Dearborn Street, and the 
 elevator boy let her off at the fourth floor. 
 
 " To your right," he said, when she asked for 
 further direction, so she closed her lips tightly, 
 and entered the first door she came to. 
 
 "The editor?" repeated the girl at the tele-
 
 198 Rook's Nest 
 
 phone switch board in answer to Avis' low toned 
 query. " That big red desk down in the corner. 
 Yes, the one with the rail around it." 
 
 The consciousness that this mighty unknown 
 had actually accepted some of her work, buoyed 
 her up, and she crossed the room to the desk 
 whose broad back faced the room, with the mental 
 vision of a tall, cross looking person with eye- 
 glasses behind it. 
 
 When she reached the desk, she stood there 
 gazing in astonishment upon the person perched 
 in a big editorial chair. It was Betty Morgan. 
 Betty minus the jacket, with papers pinned, girl 
 fashion, around her sleeves to protect them from 
 the dust. 
 
 Betty, with newspapers stacked about her in the 
 liveliest confusion possible, with a paste pot be- 
 fore her, and a pair of scissors in her hands as 
 she slashed with deadly precision into the columns 
 of the press. When she recognized the tall girl 
 in the grey dress, she smiled and nodded with 
 quick friendliness. 
 
 " So you found me out so soon," she said. 
 " Did Madame send you ? Sit right down in that 
 chair, Avis. I'm going to call you Avis, because 
 we'll be awfully well acquainted by-an-by, you 
 know. How did you find your way around town ? 
 Did you get the room on my floor ? "
 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 199 
 
 Avis took the proferred seat, and tried to look 
 composed under this sudden tangle of circum- 
 stances. After she had caught her breath, she 
 answered : 
 
 " I did not expect to see you at all. I came to 
 see the editor." 
 
 Betty stared a moment, and then asked, 
 serenely : 
 
 "Why? I'm the editor, or the nearest ap- 
 proach to one around here. I used to be Miss 
 Ogden's assistant, and just look out for the 
 letters and exchanges ; but she left a month ago, 
 and we use syndicate work now. So all I have to 
 do is make up the pages, and that isn't a bit hard." 
 
 " Then it must have been Miss Ogden who ac- 
 cepted my story," Avis faltered. "'A Prince in 
 Disguise,' was the name of it." 
 
 "Your story?" exclaimed Betty. "Forever- 
 more ! I wondered what you could do when I 
 saw you this morning. Girls who come to the 
 city, always have something they can do, don't 
 you know. I thought I could model Goddesses 
 of Liberty, and different things, but when you 
 have to count the pennies, you forget about what 
 you want to do, and skirmish around to find any- 
 thing you can do. You're lucky to have a story 
 taken. Are you as old as I am. Nineteen ? " 
 
 "Only seventeen," Avis replied. "But I've
 
 200 Rook's Nest 
 
 done a good deal of writing. I I have a book 
 with me." 
 
 " That's what they all have," Betty remarked to 
 the paste pot, a trifle sadly. " And you want to 
 find a publisher, and you think you'll find them 
 waiting with bouquets and checks all drawn up, 
 I know. Is it clever ? " 
 
 " It isn't half bad," Avis said, bravely. " The 
 name of it is ' Lorraine's Legacy.' " 
 
 " Pretty," commented the editor, sagely. " Last 
 one I saw was 'Ethelberta's Sister.' There wasn't 
 any sister. It was all Ethelberta. But never 
 mind, you may be a budding genius. Wait till 
 to-night, and then I'll look it over. I couldn't 
 take it here now, but I can tell you where to send 
 it, and give you lots of pointers. Have you been 
 to lunch ? " 
 
 Avis had not, so she willingly accepted the 
 other's invitation to join her, and they went out 
 together. It seemed novel to have so confident 
 and fearless a guide as Betty. 
 
 " I know every one of the crookedey corners," 
 she said, laughingly. "And there are lots and 
 lots of them. The dearest, funniest, out-of-the- 
 way places that hardly any one knows anything 
 about. It seems as if they all belonged specially 
 to me. That's the joy of being acquainted with 
 the city, don't you know? I've got my very own
 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 201 
 
 corner in the library. Way, way up-stairs, at the 
 top of the south rotunda there is a seat that looks 
 as if it had coine from some old Italian garden. 
 That's mine. Then there's a place down by the 
 lake shore, past the Institute, where there's the 
 best corner to go and dream. Over the under- 
 ground station, it is, and it looks like the battle- 
 ments of a castle steep. And those precious lions 
 in front of the Institute. Just wait till they know 
 you so well that they wag an iron paw at you 
 when you go by. And that bridge at Dearborn 
 Street, bless it. Tou haven't seen it at sunset, 
 have you, when you're all tired out and blue? 
 Oh, I've got lots of things to show you. Here's 
 my manger. Look out for the stairs." 
 
 She turned around an alley abruptly, just back 
 of the Venetian building, and ran lightly down a 
 flight of stairs into a cafe. There were little round 
 bare tables here and there, and Betty paused a 
 moment to draw a couple of glasses of water on 
 her way to one of them. 
 
 " I like this place, cafetiera, they call it, because 
 you can hustle 'round and help yourself," she 
 said, adding confidentially : " And you can fill up 
 gloriously on fifteen cents. Sit down here. I'll 
 be back in a minute." 
 
 Avis obeyed, and leaning back in the chair, 
 gazed about her with interest as she drew off her
 
 202 Rook's Nest 
 
 gloves. It seemed queer to see every one helping 
 themselves, some at the pie and cake counter, some 
 over at the coffee and tea urns, but everything was 
 exquisitely neat, and most of the patrons of the 
 little restaurant were bright faced girls, chatting 
 and laughing among themselves, and brimful of 
 bon camaraderie. 
 
 Presently Betty returned, bearing deftly two 
 minced ham sandwiches, a dish of pickles, two 
 cream puffs, and some potato salad. 
 
 " There ! " she said, triumphantly. " Isn't that 
 a feast for thirty cents. Now talk and eat." 
 
 " Do you always eat at restaurants," asked Avis, 
 remembering what Madame had told her, and 
 thinking of her nine dollars or less. But Betty 
 laughed and shook her head. 
 
 " No, ma'am. I can't afford it I have my own 
 cafe on the fourth floor. Wait till to-night," and 
 she nodded, mysteriously, as she reached for a 
 pickle. " Never mind me. Tell me all about your- 
 self. Where did you come from, and why, and 
 everything." 
 
 If Marjorie and Billie could have seen her royal 
 highness, reserve and dignity tossed to the winds, 
 eating pickles and cream puffs, and chatting to a 
 stranger of all her pet plans and dreams, they 
 would have been amazed. And while she talked 
 on and on of Book's Nest and of the meragerie,
 
 Avis Tries Her Wings 203 
 
 some way the lunch lost its charm, and her appe- 
 tite failed her. 
 
 "That's enough for now," said Betty, finally, 
 rising from the table. " You're getting choky and 
 homesick, and it isn't a bit of fun crying down 
 town. Wait till to-night." 
 
 After she had said good-bye, and started home- 
 ward, more than ever Avis' heart longed for a 
 sight of the dear, merry circle of faces around the 
 old kitchen table, and at last when she reached 
 the little hall bedroom she sat down and wrote a 
 letter to Marjorie. Not a long one, nor an inter- 
 esting one either. 
 
 " DEAR MUGGINS," it read, " I am here at last in 
 the city, and have a very nice comfortable room. 
 It's all splendid, and I know I will succeed, but I 
 am a little homesick just now." Splash number 
 one. " Do not worry or imagine me scattered in 
 little pieces under cars or wagons. Please do not 
 tell Rob I am here. Kiss them all for me, and 
 tell Billie to please not scold me and be cross." 
 Splash number two. "I will come home some 
 day. Lovingly, your sister, 
 
 " Avis NEWELL RANDALL." 
 
 After she had mailed it, the door was locked, 
 and a desolate limp figure curled up on the bed in
 
 204 Rook's Nest 
 
 the kail bedroom, and had a long, wretched cry 
 all to herself, before she fell asleep. Dreams and 
 publishers faded away, and in all the wide world 
 there seemed no happy spot but the little despised 
 Nest Her royal highness was homesick at last
 
 CHAPTER Xffl 
 A Guest From Boston 
 
 So the great day came at last, and instead of 
 being a day of gladness, and bright hopes, it was 
 a lonely, dreary day, for the shadow that had 
 fallen so suddenly, had changed the Nest from a 
 house of feasting into a house of mourning. The 
 children stepped about on tip-toe as if Avis were 
 dead, instead of only gone to win fame and fortune. 
 It was Billie who broke ^he news. When morn- 
 ing came, and he awakened, Marjorie was herself 
 again, only pale and very quiet, and there were 
 dark shadows under her brown eyes. 
 
 "You must tell Dora and the others, Billie," 
 she said, when he came out into the kitchen, while 
 she prepared the table as usual. " I can't. But 
 Billie," as he nodded, solemnly, and turned to 
 obey, " break it gently, and don't scold Avis." 
 
 Billie broke it beautifully. He strode into the 
 schoolroom with heavy, lowering brow, and war- 
 like mien. 
 
 " Are you youngsters going to sleep all day ? " 
 he demanded. " Something's happened." 
 
 205
 
 2o6 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Has she come ? " gasped the Lamb, sleepily. 
 
 "No. She's gone ! " returned the herald, loudly, 
 his hands in his pockets, his feet wide apart. 
 Three anxious, heavy-eyed forms struggled to a 
 sitting posture, and regarded him in bewildered 
 surprise. 
 
 " Whoth gone ? " asked the Lion at last, and the 
 answer came like a thunderbolt : 
 
 "Avis!!" 
 
 " Oh, forev'more," cried Winnie, and there be- 
 ing an immediate yowl of woe from the Lion, she 
 recovered in time to join in the chorus. 
 
 But Dora took the shock differently. She was 
 on the floor in an instant, and past Billie, flying 
 out to the kitchen. Before she knew what had 
 happened, Marjorie felt two plump, strong little 
 arms clasped tightly around her neck, and Dora's 
 wide open brown eyes were looking straight into 
 hers. 
 
 " Honest ? " she asked. " Honest and true has 
 she gone ? " 
 
 Marjorie could only nod assent, but the warm 
 loving embrace which she received brought greater 
 comfort to her in her trouble than any words could 
 have done. No one, not even Billie or the Lamb, 
 fully realized the ache in her heart that day, the 
 utter loneliness that swept down on her when she 
 looked at the closed desk in the schoolroom, or
 
 A Guest From Boston 207 
 
 the many little marks of Avis' taste and handi- 
 work about the house. No one saw her kneel by 
 the desk, and kiss its smooth surface, while tears 
 splashed down and made round slippery little 
 spots on the rosewood. No one saw her in the 
 quietude of her own room, as she packed away 
 Avis' treasures with tender care. 
 
 "I know she would not like Aunt Bethiah to 
 have them," she said afterward to Billie. " And I 
 mean to let her have this room now." 
 
 " But where are you going to sleep ? " demanded 
 Billie, anxiously. 
 
 "With Dora or "Winnie," Muggins answered, 
 wearily. " It doesn't matter," and Billie secretly 
 worried as he saw the new tired look in her soft 
 eyes. 
 
 " My, I hope Aunt Bethiah will be nice," he said 
 to Dora, when all the work for the day was over, 
 and they were ready to start for the station. Only 
 the two girls and Billie were going after all, to 
 welcome the guest. Reggie had labored nobly in 
 the good cause all day, and had finally fallen in 
 his tracks, a crumpled, tired little heap in the cor- 
 ner, fast asleep. So when she found him, Mug- 
 gins took him in her arms, and undressed him, 
 and the rest left her in the little sitting-room rock- 
 ing him back to sleep, with the soft hazy shadows 
 of the early November twilight closing round.
 
 208 Rook's Nest 
 
 Mr. Rogers' double seated carriage had been 
 borrowed by the intrepid Dora, and Darling was 
 the charger of the occasion. It was a very attrac- 
 tive equipage that waited at Elmore station that 
 evening, and a very cosy looking row of small per- 
 sons that lined up when the first smirch of smoke 
 stained the far off sky. All were solemn and anx- 
 ious. The Owl's feelings were at such a point of 
 tension that a crisis was imminent, but Billie 
 scowled heavily upon her, and commanded order. 
 
 "If she's cross" Billie began, under his 
 breath, as the train drew near. 
 
 " What ? " whispered the Lamb. 
 
 " I'll run away to Avis," he concluded, fiercely. 
 
 " And leave Muggins ? " There was a world of 
 scorn in his trusty comrade's tone ; but already 
 some passengers were alighting, and there was no 
 chance for further talk. An old lady came first. 
 But that was Mrs. Tracy, and the doctor was there 
 to meet her. A young man with a traveling case 
 followed. He took the hotel omnibus. 
 
 " Oh, dear," Dora murmured, as the last of the 
 baggage was thrown out, and the train gave a warn- 
 ing whistle. " She didn't come." 
 
 "There's another," Winnie exclaimed, pointing 
 her finger at a tall figure at the other end of the 
 platform. 
 
 "It's a man," Billie returned. "Do you sup-
 
 A Guest From Boston 209 
 
 pose Aunt Bethiali Newell from Boston wears an 
 overcoat and and " 
 
 He paused abruptly. The figure was coming 
 slowly toward them evidently with a purpose in 
 view. "When the electric light fell full on the 
 stranger, they had a good look at him. He was 
 tall, but not thin. Just right, Dora said afterward, 
 and he wore a dark grey overcoat, and a tall silk 
 hat. The latter he raised when he reached the 
 little group, and they could see his wavy, iron grey 
 hair, and long moustache. 
 
 " Is Marjorie here ? " he asked, and after a mo- 
 ment's hesitation, Billie plucked up courage. 
 
 "No, sir," he replied, his cap off in a hurry. 
 " AVe're the rost. Muggins is home. Have you 
 seen Aunt Bethiali ? " 
 
 The stranger's face was very grave, and his 
 voice tender, as he answered gently : 
 
 " Aunt Bethiah left me only a few weeks ago for 
 the far country. It has made me very happy to 
 take up what would have been her loving interest, 
 and help you all. I am Uncle Harvey." 
 
 Billie eyed him doubtfully. It was hard to 
 have everything turned topsy-turvy in a moment, 
 but the more he looked at the firm, handsome face, 
 the better he liked it. After a moment's hesita- 
 tion, he grasped Uncle Harvey's hand with a warm 
 clasp of hearty welcome. In fact, on the way
 
 210 Rook's Nest 
 
 home, he found a chance to whisper in the Lamb's 
 ear, that he rather liked him better than if it had 
 been otherwise. Whereupon Dora waxed highly 
 indignant, and wanted to know if he had forgotten 
 that Uncle Harvey had been a cross old duffer 
 once upon a time. 
 
 Marjorie was seated in the window watching for 
 them. She had put Reggie to bed, and then had 
 taken a final look around, thinking far less of the 
 coming guest than of the bird who had flown. 
 The trees were bare now, and the lilac bushes 
 stripped of leaves, too, and the little Nest stood 
 desolate, and quaint in its empty garden like some 
 forlorn grey rabbit left out in the cold. When 
 the carriage drove up the road from the ravine, 
 she tried to pull herself together, as Billie called 
 it, and look cheerful ; but it cost a great effort, 
 and she wondered, as the children had done, if 
 Aunt Bethiah was nice. 
 
 It was all over in a minute. Billie took charge 
 of the stranger, and managed the introduction 
 splendidly. 
 
 "There isn't any Aunt Bethiah, Muggins," he 
 cried, the words fairly tumbling over each other 
 in his hurry to break the news. " Or at least, 
 there is an Aunt Bethiah, only he's Uncle Harvey. 
 See?" 
 
 Before Marjorie could catch her breath, the
 
 A Guest From Boston 2 1 1 
 
 stranger had kissed her, and then said, holding 
 her at arms length : 
 
 " And this is Muggins, Princess of Rattletibang. 
 I had expected to see a very dignified person, 
 judging from Billie's letters." 
 
 " Oh, Muggins is never dignified," cried Billie, 
 warmly. " Only her royal highness was dignified." 
 
 Marjorie glanced at him, pleadingly, but he went 
 on: 
 
 "That's Avis, you know, Uncle Harvey. She 
 writes stories, and things, and she's gone away to 
 seek her fortune. And there's another, Reggie, 
 and he's asleep." 
 
 Uncle Harvey -was silent There was an anx- 
 ious look in the brown eyes of the princess, and 
 he wondered what its cause might be. It was not 
 until Dora and Winnie had said good-night, that 
 he heard the whole story in sections from the man 
 of the house and the princess. It was a sad, little 
 story, and a trifle hard to understand rightly, for 
 while Billie would dilate on Avis' general cranki- 
 ness, Marjorie defended her loyally. 
 
 " What was the name of the magazine which 
 accepted her story ? " aSked the old gentleman, 
 with a half smile, and Muggins repeated it proudly, 
 The American Beauty. 
 
 " Do you know it, sir ? " Billie asked. 
 
 "Somewhat," he replied, polishing his eye-
 
 212 Rook's Nest 
 
 glasses, thoughtfully, with a white, silk handker- 
 chief. Then, after a pause, he turned to Marjorie. 
 " I do not think I would worry over her, Marjorie. 
 From what you have said I imagine she is self- 
 reliant and resolute, and can look after herself 
 very well. It will not last long." 
 
 " Then you won't help me find her ? " and there 
 was a tremble in Marjorie's voice, as she raised 
 her head to look at him. 
 
 " Not just yet. Let her try her wings, as Billie 
 says; You are certain to hear from her, and when 
 I go to the city I can easily find a trace of her. 
 You know I have come West on business as well 
 as pleasure." 
 
 At this Billie's eyes opened wider. He had 
 heard fabulous tales of the Newell wealth, and 
 here it was all invested in Uncle Harvey. A sud- 
 den idea struck him, and he exclaimed, impul- 
 sively : 
 
 " Say, Uncle Harvey, didn't mamma have any 
 share in Grandpa Newell's money ? " 
 
 Marjorie stared at the wall. She could almost 
 feel how the words struck Uncle Harvey, and yet 
 her heart beat fast as she waited for his answer. 
 So many times Avis and she had wondered why 
 it was that Uncle Harvey and Aunt Bethiah were 
 so wealthy, while their own dear little mother had 
 no share in the Newell fortunes.
 
 A Guest From Boston 213 
 
 Uncle Harvey looked grave, and seemed to con- 
 sider before he answered, slowly : 
 
 " No, Billie. My father was a stern man. He 
 did not consent to her marrying Mr. Randall, and 
 and he changed his will after she came West." 
 
 " Well, it's a shame," cried Billie, hotly. " Bet 
 if Grandpa Newell could see us poked away in 
 this little place, all poor and everything, with no 
 one to care for us, he'd have changed back. It 
 isn't fair." 
 
 A slight flush tinged Mr. Newell's face, but he 
 smiled kindly at the two, bright, anxious young 
 faces upturned to him. 
 
 "I don't think it is fair either, Billie, and 
 neither did Bethiah," he said. " That is one rea- 
 son why I have come West"
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Betty Morgan, Editor 
 
 " HELLO, hello, central ! " 
 
 At tlie sound of the clear, ringing voice outside 
 her door, Avis started up from her long sleep, and 
 admitted Betty Morgan. 
 
 " Been pounding away for two whole minutes," 
 the latter said, severely, as she took possession of 
 the cainp-rocker. " The idea of going to sleep in 
 the day tims. I almost begrudge the nights, 
 they're so long. I'd like to be awake all the time. 
 Your trunk's out in the hall. We'll have supper 
 in my room, and then I'll show you all my treas- 
 ures, and you can show me yours, all the Nest 
 things, you know. And I want to hear that won- 
 derful story, too." 
 
 Avis smiled. The mention of her story never 
 failed to brighten her, and with Betty's assistance 
 she drew the old black leather trunk into the 
 room, and uncorded it. 
 
 "Let's wait till after supper before you open 
 it," Betty said. "I'm hungry enough to bite 
 
 214
 
 Betty Morgan, Editor 215 
 
 door-knobs, and besides, I want to show you my 
 room." 
 
 It certainly was a wonder, that large back room, 
 with its windows just catching a glimmer of Lake 
 Michigan. To be sure the lace curtains were 
 dingy with smoke and dust, and the furniture was 
 the heavy old-fashioned phish kind, and the car- 
 pet was bald in spots, and shaved too close in 
 others, but all the same it was a wonder. There 
 was a marble washstaud set in the wall, with a 
 good-sized cupboard above it, and the latter was 
 Betty's larder. Her hat and jacket were tossed 
 over in a corner, and her sleeves rolled up in a 
 jiffy 
 
 "Now, first," she said, "we'll take the books 
 off this table and draw it up beside the bed. I 
 like it here because I can bolster myself up at the 
 foot of the bed with a good book, and read, and 
 lie there and nibble, and read until I'm sleepy, 
 unless I go out somewhere." 
 
 " "Where's the table-cloth ? " asked Avis. 
 
 Betty tossed over the morning paper. 
 
 "Take that," she replied. "I've got a can 
 of sardines left, and some crackers and cheese, 
 and I'll make a cup of tea, and we'll toast the 
 cheese." 
 
 After she had spread the papers out on the 
 table, Avis gave up her share of work, and sat
 
 216 Rook's Nest 
 
 down to watch Betty's busy preparations, won- 
 dering greatly at the revelations made. There 
 was a plump, jolly looking little brown teapot 
 which Betty fixed, and placed on a diminutive 
 one-burner gas stove about as large as a saucer, 
 which had a rubber tube fastened to one of the 
 gas jets. 
 
 " Madame does not care if I use the gas," the 
 cook said, while she sliced cheese into a little 
 granite saucepan, and seasoned it lightly. " I have 
 great feasts up here, and sometimes she comes up 
 herself and joins me. She is only fifty, even if 
 her hair is white, and sho's the dearest, gentlest, 
 old lady, so well-bred and refined. You may open 
 the sardines. The can opener is over there 
 under those magazines, I think. I left it there 
 last time." 
 
 It was a delicious feast, a forerunner of the 
 many which followed, Betty took possession of 
 the end of the bed, and sat there in state, backed 
 by pillows, and giving much advice to the " bud- 
 ding genius," as she still called Avis. The pre- 
 cious manuscript lay beside her, and she read a 
 page now and then, while the author waited 
 anxiously for her verdict. 
 
 " It's good," she said at last, waving a cheese 
 sandwich solemnly at Avis. " It's first-rate, only 
 a little too much in the clouds to be quite practical.
 
 Betty Morgan, Editor 217 
 
 Why on earth did you write a love story. Every- 
 body \\rites love stories, but maybe this will go. 
 Shall I go over it for you and fix it up ? It ought 
 to be typewritten, too." 
 
 " Oh, dear," murmured Avis, a little pucker of 
 wrinkles coming on her forehead, as this fresh en- 
 tanglement presented itself. " I copied it all so 
 carefully." 
 
 " Of course, you did," assented Betty, heartily. 
 " It's neat and pretty enough to be framed, but all 
 the same that won't do these days. Everybody 
 who is anybody must be up-to-date if they want 
 to keep in line and win. I know. It took me 
 three months to find out about things, and the 
 right way to do them ; and I don't believe I would 
 have awakened up then, only that I was hungry. 
 AVcre you ever hungry and couldn't get anything 
 to eat?" 
 
 Avis hesitated, thinking of that first night, under 
 the lilacs, but relief had come so soon, such a small 
 experience did not count. 
 
 " Not really," she answered. 
 
 Betty shook her head sadly. 
 
 "It's awful," she said. "I get ten dollars a 
 week now, but when I helped Miss Ogden, I got 
 only seven, and I had to send some home, you 
 know, so it used to be a tight squeeze some- 
 times."
 
 218 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Did you ever read a cook-book," asked Avis, 
 laughingly, as she suddenly remembered Billie's 
 scheme, and when Betty said no, she told her all 
 about it. 
 
 "I don't see how you could ever have had 
 courage enough to leave such a dear, jolly crowd," 
 the latter said at last, with a sigh. " If I had been 
 so happy" she paused, and her lips tightened 
 slightly, then she went on. " I am an ' orfling,' 
 as our office boy says. I don't even remember my 
 father or mother ; guess I grew like Topsy. I used 
 to live in Michigan with an aunt, Aunt Felicia. 
 She tried to be good to me, but she was an old 
 maid, and never liked children, anyway, and she 
 used to say that I was the cross she had to bear 
 through life. She never would tell me about my 
 father at all, only said, she was my mother's sis- 
 ter, and that mamma had died there in South Haven, 
 and left me a baby with her. I've got mamma's 
 picture, but none of papa, and Aunt Felicia al- 
 ways called me by her name, Morgan. Isn't it all 
 queer. Here's the picture." 
 
 She rose quickly, and went over to the bureau. 
 Avis followed, and looked at the photograph in 
 the quaint frame of hand beaten bronze. It was 
 a bright, pretty face of a young woman about 
 twenty. Her hair was wavy like Betty's, and hung 
 in long heavy braids at the back, and the eyes had
 
 Betty Morgan, Editor 219 
 
 the same laughing twinkle in them from under the 
 long lashes which Betty's had. 
 
 " Isn't it odd to think that she's my very own 
 mother ? " went on Betty, looking at the picture 
 over Avis' shoulder. " She's so young there, only 
 a year older than I am now. Sometimes I sit and 
 look and look at it, and wish it would speak and 
 tell me all I want to know. But I have always 
 felt rather sorry for Aunt Felicia. I know I was 
 a terror when I was little, and bothered her dread- 
 fully. Did you ever sit on a fence and fish for 
 grasshoppers on a hook? I used to, and that 
 bothered her. I used to run away, too, and tramp 
 and tramp away off in the woods, and everywhere, 
 and she'd have to hunt me iip, and I guess that 
 bothered her, too. And I could never sit and 
 braid rags for rugs, or do any of those nice sensi- 
 ble things she said she did when she was a girl, 
 and she said I was slack, and gave up all hope. 
 So I came away as soon as I could, but I send her 
 money all the time, because she did try hard to be 
 good to me, only she didn't know how to mother 
 me, you know. That's all about me. Show me 
 everything that came from the Nest, and we'll fix 
 up the room. I've got some tacks." 
 
 After giving the table a hasty clearing, they re- 
 turned to the hall bedroom, and before long Betty 
 had mounted a chair, and was tacking up pictures,
 
 220 Rook's Nest 
 
 while Avis arranged her pretty odds and ends 
 around the bureau, and on the mantel over the 
 folding bed. 
 
 " Say, are you very rich ? " asked Betty, sud- 
 denly, after a long pause. " I mean, have you a 
 good solid foundation of dollars to stand on before 
 you earn any more." 
 
 Avis took her green leather pocketbook from 
 the drawer and emptied its contents on the 
 table. 
 
 " Eight dollars, sixty-three cents, and a button," 
 commented Betty, pursing up her lips in surprise. 
 " Four dollars a month for your room, four sixty- 
 three left over for food, car fare, etc. You can't 
 do it. That will last you about two weeks if you 
 are very careful, and live on air and ginger snaps. 
 Can you get any more from home ? " 
 
 " No, indeed," cried Avis, proudly. " I wouldn't 
 ask for a cent from them, and they don't know 
 where I am." 
 
 Betty gasped indignantly. 
 
 " Avis Randall, haven't you told Muggins where 
 to write ? " 
 
 Avis shook her head. 
 
 "Then you must write now, right away to- 
 night. If you don't, I will." 
 
 "Oh, I'll write," said Avis, carelessly, "only I 
 didn't want to before I had made a start of some
 
 Betty Morgan, Editor 221 
 
 kind. I will send the story away at once, and find 
 some work to do in two weeks." 
 
 Betty nodded her bead approvingly. 
 
 " That's the proper spirit, madam. I had it my- 
 self until I came down to ten cents and a large ap- 
 petite. Now, first, if you sell that story in three 
 months, you may think yourself lucky, because 
 most papers like the American Beauty accept one 
 year, publish the next, and pay the next Maybe 
 not quite as bad as that, but almost. Miss Ogden 
 always insisted on sending the checks out at 
 once, but she was different So I think that in 
 two weeks you'll be in the town of worry unless 
 something turns up." 
 
 Avis sat with her chin resting on her palms, re- 
 garding her advisor anxiously. She was startled 
 and troubled, too, by what Betty said ; but still 
 she could not believe it Of course ordinary writ- 
 ers had such trials. They did not possess such a 
 treasure as the wonderful story which was to be 
 bound in green and gold. Betty did not quite un- 
 derstand her advantage over the rest of the world, 
 that was all. She smiled confidently, and smoothed 
 down a dog eared leaf in the manuscript lying be- 
 side her. 
 
 "I think I'll be all right," she said, after a 
 pause. " Where would you send it first ? " 
 
 " East," returned Betty, promptly. " They pay
 
 222 Rook's Nest 
 
 more money, and you stand a better chance. Chi- 
 cago means well, but it's so afraid it may do some- 
 thing to be laughed at, you know, that unless some 
 one knows how to coax it around, it's awfully 
 chilly to anything new. Send the story east right 
 away. I'll give you some names of publishers, and 
 you can take your chance with the rest." 
 
 "I I'd rather sell it here," said Avis, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 Betty drove in her last tack with unwonted 
 vigor, and descended from the chair. 
 
 " Well, go ahead and do it your own way," she 
 returned, shortly. " It's the only way you'll learn. 
 I had to learn by experience, and so will you. It's 
 late now, and you look as sleepy as an owl at 
 noon. Good-night, sleep tight and cry all you 
 can. If you get real lonesome, pound on the wall, 
 and I'll come in." She crossed the room, and 
 opened the door, nodding in her happy-go-lucky, 
 friendly way over her shoulder, but when she saw 
 the homesick look in Avis' blue eyes, she stopped 
 short. 
 
 "You look like a lost kitten," she said, de- 
 cidedly, " and aren't fit to be left alone in this little 
 cubby hole of a room. Come on with me, and 
 we'll make believe I'm Muggins, and you are under 
 the four poster. Now, don't straighten up and 
 look as though somebody had pulled your hair.
 
 Betty Morgan, Editor 223 
 
 Come on and be sociable. Then to-morrow morn- 
 ing we can have breakfast together." 
 
 There was no' loophole for refusal, and on the 
 whole Avis was only too glad to have company on 
 that first night So it happened that there were 
 no tears at all, and her royal highness slept as 
 soundly as if the brown head on the next pillow 
 was really Harjorie's.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 Letters 
 
 'BOOK'S NEST, Nov. 4, 1900. 
 
 "MY OWN DEAB A VIS : 
 
 ' ' Billie brought your letters from the post-office yes- 
 terday, and I read them aloud to the menagerie after supper 
 in the kitchen. Winnie and Reggie tore the envelope in 
 two, and each has their share in their treasure boxes. I 
 think the Lion stuffed his into the broken head of that old 
 sawdust doll he loves so much. 
 
 "We are so glad you are homesick. I was afraid that 
 once you were away from the Nest, and alone, you would 
 be wrapped up in your work and would hardly have time to 
 remember us. We are getting on splendidly. I gave Mr. 
 Rogers the use of the barn for his stock during the winter, 
 and in exchange have all the wood and vegetables we will 
 need. I wish you could see Billie and Mr. Keith out in the 
 shed chopping wood. He is so nice, Mr. Keith, I mean. I 
 did not want to send the little ones way across the ravine 
 to school, and so he has taken Billie and Dora in charge, 
 and I have the Owl and Lion to teach. He comes over 
 every evening. 
 
 "I have closed your desk, and packed away the things 
 you loved. Do you wish me to send them to you? I hate 
 to part with them. It seems as if they were all I had left 
 of you. You do not know how much we miss you. Every 
 once in awhile I find Winnie and Reggie off in a corner cry- 
 ing, all by their lonelies, and all the Lion thinks of is that 
 the < dragonth are waiting to pounth on you in the awful 
 
 224
 
 Letters 225 
 
 thity.' I tell them that your fairy godmother will keep 
 watch over you. I only hope she will. 
 
 "Avis, dear, I send you the money you left in the sugar 
 bowl. I cannot take it from you when I know how much 
 you will need it. You know we are all well taken care of, 
 and you are all alone. It seems to me as though you were 
 adrift at sea, without chart or compass, and no pilot to lead 
 you on. Do be careful, for little mother's sake. Just be 
 strong, and brave, and for pity's sake don't go out these cold 
 winter days without your overshoes. If you were taken 
 sick way off there, I believe I would hire a balloon or a 
 Bagdad carpet, or something, and come to you. 
 
 " Mrs. Rogers sends her love, and says, ' Bless her, she'll 
 take the cake yet.' "We had a letter from Bob. He is still 
 studying at the Art Institute, but has been doing outside 
 work for some newspaper, I forget which, and expects to 
 secure a position shortly on the art staff. I have not told 
 him you are in Chicago, but I hope you will meet him some 
 day. I think, perhaps, he might be able to help you. 
 
 "I have apple pies in the oven, and the Lion just sat 
 down in a pan of molasses the Owl had ready for candy, so 
 I must go and look after my menagerie. 
 
 " Do write often and tell me all about yourself. The rest 
 are all going to write to you, too. I am so glad you found a 
 friend so soon. What fun you must have cooking ! You 
 know you never could bear to cook, or fuss over a stove, 
 and it seems so comical to think of your liking it now. 
 
 "Write long letters. 
 
 " Lovingly, 
 
 " MUGGINS." 
 
 " CASTLE RATTLETIBANG, Nov. 4, 1900. 
 " HELLO, YOTTR BOYAL HIGHNESS : 
 
 "I know I was cross that night, sol thought I'd 
 write and say I am glad you're homesick, and hope you will 
 be all the time. Muggins has cried herself blue, but I told
 
 226 Rook's Nest 
 
 her you'd swim all right as soon as you caught the stroke. 
 Just look out for snags. They give you awful nips some- 
 times. 
 
 " The Enchanted Goblin swallowed the white mice, and 
 tried the grey squirrel, and the squirrel got mad, and nearly 
 bit his head off, and a weasel got Martha Washington, and 
 a.ll we found were the tail feathers, and Dora's written some 
 poetry for her, too, and we buried the feathers, and put up 
 a shingle side of George's grave. 
 
 " ' She might have died of chicken pox, 
 
 She might have died of measles, 
 She'd have been laying eggs this blessed day, 
 If it hadn't been for weasels.' 
 
 " ' So with tears we lay her low, 
 
 Of Martha we are bereft, 
 Beside George Washington's noble form, 
 Tail feathers are all that's left.' 
 
 " I think if Dora tried real hard, she'd make a splendid 
 poet. There's a go to it you can't find in Longfellow, and 
 she always gets the point without warbling about floppy 
 willows, and gurgling brooklets and things. 
 
 "I like that Betty Morgan that you said could make 
 Welch rarebit. You can tell her I say she's all right. 
 When you come trotting home in your chariot of fire, please 
 bring Betty on the back seat. 
 
 "Aunt Bethiah (Muggins just looked over my shoulder 
 and pinched my ear, so I'm not to write any more on the 
 above subject.) 
 
 "I guess that's all. I hope you'll get on all right, but I 
 don't think you will. You're not a good fighter, and you 
 cry too much, but never mind. Maybe you'll come home 
 with a putty medal yet. The Lion was going to write, but 
 Muggins is trying to make him stop sitting down until she
 
 Letters 227 
 
 can got the molasses off ; he sticks to things, so I guess he'll 
 wait until next time. 
 
 "So love and kind regards, from your brother, 
 
 I ;n. MI: WILLIAM RANDALL." 
 
 "P. S. If you see any foreign stamps don't be afraid to 
 send thorn. Muggins says if you want any cough medicine 
 likr Mrs Rogers makes, she'll send you a bottle. Rob's Kt 
 some. If you see Rob, tell him not to forget yours respect- 
 fully, W. R." 
 
 "DEAB Avis: 
 
 " I'm in a hurry. I wanted to send you the turtle, 
 but Billie said you'd make soup of it when your money was 
 all gone, so I will keep it. 
 
 "Lovingly your affectionate, and devoted sister, 
 
 "THE LAMB." 
 
 " DARLING Avis : 
 
 "I love you, and so does the Lion, and we want you 
 so much. Please come home Christmas. There's a funny 
 noise in the cellar, and we don't know what makes it. Bil- 
 lie says its rats, but I think it's a griflin with a tail. So 
 does the Lion. I love you lots. Please get rich soon, and 
 come home. 
 
 " WINNIE."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 The Threshold of Fame 
 
 "Now, what are you crying for, madam. I 
 never saw such a perpetual weeper in my life. 
 Drip, drip, drip. Large, salty drips at morning, 
 noon and night. Look here, Avis." Betty dropped 
 her hair brush and turned squarely around to face 
 the culprit. "You've got to show more plain, 
 everyday grit. This is not a joke, neither is it a 
 funeral. You've got to brace up, and get ready 
 and charge on the enemy." 
 
 Avis sat on the window-sill, and looked out at 
 the drenched, sloppy, chilly world that three days 
 of November rain had made of Chicago. The bud- 
 get of letters from Rook's Nest lay in her lap, and 
 as Betty said, she had been having a steady, cry- 
 ing spell ever since sho had opened them. 
 
 Avis was certainly low spirited ; and, as time 
 passed and she saw no signs of the golden future 
 that she had expected to see open before her, she 
 became more and more downhearted. Two weeks 
 dragged themselves by slowly, and still no sign of 
 hope or encouragement appeared. Under Betty's 
 
 228
 
 The Threshold of Fame 229 
 
 direction, the story had been dispatched to a pub- 
 lishing firm in the city, and day by day Avis had 
 waited in brave hearted uncertainty for a response. 
 
 Meanwhile the precious little stack of ready cash 
 had dwindled down lower and lower, until the 
 coming of Muggins' share had been a heaven sent 
 relief. 
 
 At the end of the second week, Betty had pro- 
 posed a plan that would be advantageous to both, 
 and save a little of Avis' capital. Accordingly, 
 the hall bedroom was given up, and the trunk 
 moved into the large back room. 
 
 " It is ever so much better for us both," Betty 
 said, decidedly. " You can pay half the rent when 
 you have it, and when you haven't, I won't push 
 the trunk over the banisters. And if hard times 
 come, why, we'll fight them together, and poke the 
 wolf away with our noble swords, the which are 
 hatpins. That's bad grammar, I think, but it 
 sounds well So you've got to make the bed, and 
 tidy up, as Aunt Felicia used to say, and sit over 
 there by the window, and chew your pencil all day, 
 while I go out to toil in the cold, cold world. It 
 is getting cold, too. I shall certainly have to un- 
 pack my sealskin pretty soon. If you go out, re- 
 member what Muggins said, 'Don't forget your 
 rubbers.' " 
 
 Avis had moved into her new quarters with a
 
 230 Rook's Nest 
 
 decided sense of relief. Madame Penionte would 
 come up-stairs sometimes, and glance in at the 
 slender, solitary figure bending over the table at 
 the window, and nod smilingly. 
 
 "Do not stir for me, dear, no, no. It is just to 
 see that you are not lonely that I come. And here 
 is the little cake of raisins for Bettee that she loves 
 so much." 
 
 Always when she came it was with some little 
 donation for them and a word of cheer for Avis, 
 until the latter came to look forward to her visits, 
 as most welcome interruptions in the long monot- 
 ony of the day's routine. At first she had taken 
 Betty's advice, and gone out for long walks ; but 
 these grew lonesome and tedious, and she pre- 
 ferred to wait until the latter's homecoming, when, 
 after the happy, little supper, the two would go for 
 a stroll northward to Lincoln Park, or eastward to 
 the lake shore. 
 
 One day, toward the end of November, Betty 
 came flying up the stairs and into the room like a 
 personified tornado on a small scale. 
 
 " Prepare for a shock, ma'am. Leave that old 
 stove alone and listen to me. We are not poor 
 struggling geniuses to-night. "We are of the elect. 
 Don your violet velvet trimmed in golden butter- 
 flies, and order the pumpkin and mice. No, I 
 don't want any supper. We've only got an hour
 
 The Threshold of Fame 231 
 
 to get ready. Wash that smudge off your face and 
 hustle. This is a jumping, joyous jubilee for 
 we'uns." 
 
 " Is it theatre tickets ? " asked Avis, forgetting 
 the four dainty lamb chops cooking on the little 
 spider, for under Betty's tutelage the seven o'clock 
 dinner had developed into quite a formal affair. 
 Once before she had come home singing a song of 
 triumph, and waving a couple of tickets in the air. 
 They were not box seats, but that night no one 
 in the whole audience at the Grand Opera House 
 had enjoyed "Cyrano de Bergerac," as the two, 
 eager faced young persons bending over the rail of 
 the second balcony. They had laughed with the 
 kiiight of the nose in his valor and strength, glo- 
 ried in his bold cadets of Gascony, and their ex- 
 ploits, and cried loyally when the leaves fell and 
 the great soul passed away. 
 
 For days afterward Betty had gone about in a 
 blissful state of rapture. She bought a copy of 
 the book, a very modest, paper covered copy, and 
 at night she declaimed its lines up in the back 
 room, with the bed for a stage, and Avis for an 
 audience, and they had resolved to adopt Cyrano's 
 grand free philosophy of life for their own. 
 
 But to-night Betty shook her head. 
 
 " No, we can't afford luxuries more than once a 
 year. This is an invitation to an informal recep-
 
 232 Rook's Nest 
 
 tion and all that sort of thing at Miss Louise 
 Elaine Wade's studio, Fine Arts Building, and 
 everybody who is anybody in the literary, artistic, 
 and newspaper world will be there, because Louise 
 Elaine is a bright and shining light in said liter- 
 ary, artistic, and newspaper world. I don't know 
 her, but Miss Ogden does, and she was up to see 
 me to-day, and asked if I would like to go with 
 her. And I said I would be tickled to death, I 
 mean most delighted, only for my own budding 
 genius at home, and she said tender climbing 
 vines must be fostered, and for us both to appear 
 on the threshold of Paradise at 8:30 sharp, and 
 she would introduce us to Louise Elaine, and some 
 of the other great ones of this mighty city by the 
 Michigander Sea. So." 
 
 Avis gave a sigh of deep content. 
 
 " Have a chop ? " she said, laughingly, rescuing 
 the supper from a sizzled fate ; and, after a glance 
 at the clock on the mantel, Betty decided to par- 
 take. Then came the question of toilettes, and a 
 most serious, momentous question it was under 
 stress of existing circumstances. The grey dress 
 was Avis' " bestest," as "Winnie used to say, and 
 Betty commanded that the long braids be "put 
 up." 
 
 " Let me fix you," she said, and thereupon the 
 soft blonde hair was twisted into a fluffy, puffy
 
 The Threshold of Fame 233 
 
 knot at the nape of Avis' neck, and a transforma- 
 tion wrought. 
 
 "Now the grey; genius is always modest, and 
 that long, narrow pink scarf you showed me the 
 other day. That's it," and she passed the scarf 
 twice around the slim throat, and tied it in two, 
 dainty, loose bows, one beneath the other, and the 
 long embroidered ends fell below her waist 
 
 " There, I rather think that will do," said the 
 self-appointed maid, critically, standing off to see 
 the result "Now, just wait half a minute for 
 yours very sincerely." 
 
 A freshly laundried shirt waist hung over the 
 back of a chair, a white creation of innumerable 
 tucks, and rows of lace insertion. 
 
 " In a moment of rash extravagance I indulged 
 in this beauty," Betty murmured, as she struggled 
 sp.-isinodically into it, and wrestled with a collar 
 button. " Two, seventy-five out of my poor little 
 ten a week. And a high collar, and a black satin 
 stock. How's that Does it look like the proper 
 caper ? " 
 
 She stood before the looking-glass in the bureau, 
 arms akimbo, sternly scrutinizing the young per- 
 son who scowled back at her. 
 
 " It's splendid, all except the collar," Avis said, 
 thoughtfully. "That makes you look so cross 
 and choky."
 
 234 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Well, you have to wear one to make tlie rib- 
 bon stand up stiff," Betty returned, with a sigh of 
 resignation. " Come on. It's late, and we can't 
 afford to make a triumphal entre an hour after the 
 time, when we aren't prodigies yet." 
 
 It was a clear, bright night, with a crisp, frosty 
 sharpness in the air that made them walk fast and 
 turn up their jacket collars. Crossing to Clark 
 Street, they took a south bound cable car to Mon- 
 roe Street, and then hurried across to Michigan 
 Avenue. 
 
 " Don't you love the city at night ? " Betty ex- 
 claimed once, pausing in her breathless pace to 
 look back at the flashing lights toward State 
 Street. " It always looks like a lot of fireworks 
 to me. And don't you know, it makes one think 
 of some great underground city, like those the 
 gnomes lived in, as if the buildings were the 
 knolls, and the lights the funny little firefly lan- 
 terns the gnomes carried." 
 
 " The Owl and the Lion would love you," Avis 
 said, laughingly. "You ought to see their gun- 
 nome cave, as they call it." 
 
 " Maybe I will, some day," replied Betty, hope- 
 fully. " I feel as if there was a snuggley corner 
 for me somewhere in the Nest, now. Here we 
 are. Do you feel shivery? Is my collar all 
 right?"
 
 The Threshold of Fame 235 
 
 Avis answered vaguely. She was gazing around 
 the long, marble hall, as they waited for the eleva- 
 tor. It was all so wonderful, this first, faint 
 i. ali/ation of her hopes. Here she was, on the 
 Cuvshold of a real, true literary coterie, received 
 as one of the favored few. If Muggins and Billie 
 had only been there to witness her triumph. 
 
 They stopped at the tenth floor, and went down 
 the corridor, to where an open door emitted a 
 bright glow of light. 
 
 "I know the place," Betty whispered. "Had 
 to come here for Louise Elaine's picture to run in 
 the magazine, under 'Women in Art.' Wonder 
 if you and I will ever be under ' Woman in Art.' " 
 
 Avis would have hesitated a moment at the 
 door, but not so Betty. She led the way into the 
 wide cosy studio with an air as serene, and as 
 much at ease as if she had been Madame herself. 
 It was early. Only a few groups of two or three 
 persons were seated here and there on the corner 
 divans and tete-a-tete chairs, and Avis had an op- 
 portunity to take a quick survey of the room, 
 while Betty glanced about for a familiar face. 
 
 It was delightfully arranged and decorated, and 
 Avis' fancy leaped forward to the happy time when 
 she, too, should reign in a real studio, and give re- 
 ceptions to the elect. The walls were covered 
 with rich, dull, green burlap, that formed an affec-
 
 236 Rook's Nest 
 
 tive background for a perfect whirl of posters, 
 sketches, and here and there some famous bas-re- 
 lief, showing white and cool in the flame of colors. 
 A large alcove was half curtained off at one end of 
 the room, and seemed to be a conglomeration of 
 Persian, Indian, Japanese, and Mexican trophies, 
 all united in the most charming cosmopolitan 
 style. Beneath the oriental lamp which lighted 
 this retreat, stood two ladies, and the instant 
 Betty's eye spied them, she made her way to 
 them. 
 
 " Miss Ogden," she said, laying her hand upon 
 the arm of the taller one, "this is my friend, 
 Avis Randall, of whom I told you." 
 
 Miss Ogden turned with a frank, kindly smile 
 of interest, and took Avis' hand in a warm clasp. 
 She was decidedly plain of feature, the latter 
 thought, with a little feeling of disappointment. 
 She was like Winnie in her love of beauty ; but 
 still, considering the smile and its effect, there was 
 something almost attractive about the broad, firm 
 mouth and light grey eyes which shone behind 
 the rimless eye-glasses, perched atop an undeni- 
 ably retrousse nose. But the fluffy, carelessly ar- 
 ranged hair was hopelessly red, not bronze gold, 
 or ruddy blonde, but simply red, and Avis turned 
 with a sense of relief to her companion who was 
 being introduced as Miss Wade.
 
 The Threshold of Fame 237 
 
 " Isn't she pretty ? " Betty found & chance to 
 whisper as they went into a tiny, inner room, and 
 removed their wraps. " She makes me think of a 
 little blonde bisque dolL I always expect to hear 
 the joints squeak, or else hear her say mamma 
 and papa. Come on, so we can see everybody. I 
 want to get a front bench at the circus so I can 
 see all three rings at once. " 
 
 They found a cosy seat, banked higher with 
 cushions, where after awhile Miss Ogden joined 
 them, as the room began to fill up with new- 
 comers. 
 
 " You must tell us all the famous ones," Betty 
 insisted, " because this is our very first taste, you 
 know, and we want to know when we see a lion. 
 There's a man over there. The tall man with the 
 bushy hair talking to Miss Wade. Is he a 
 lion?" 
 
 Miss Ogden laughed. 
 
 " Dear me, no, but he's the keeper of quite a 
 menagerie. That's Benson of the Argonaut, and 
 you may walk on your tiptoes and roar for a 
 week if you get an article in the Argonaut. 
 There are not many real lions, Betty. The higher 
 game leaves the jungle out West here as soon as it 
 discovers it is worth being hunted, and takes to 
 the mountains of New York. But there is plenty 
 of loyal comradeship, all the same, only it seems
 
 238 Rook's Nest 
 
 as if we were all a lot of students together, living 
 on hopes and ambitions. There are so few great 
 reputations really won and established here in 
 Chicago. We have have lots of budding geniuses, 
 lots of the true metal too, but no masters. Per- 
 sonalities count for more than actual reputations 
 among us. Now that dear, little blue-eyed woman 
 over there with the crowd around her. She only 
 writes half column sketches for the Journal, but 
 she is loved and admired for her own self more 
 than if she had taken a Salon medal." 
 
 " Listen," said Betty, " some one is singing at 
 the piano. That girl in red it is. I think she has 
 started one of Eugene Field's songs." 
 
 In the lull of conversation that followed the 
 prelude of the song, Avis' attention was suddenly 
 attracted by a stranger who had entered quietly, 
 and slipped into a seat near the piano, after inter- 
 changing a smile of recognition with Miss Wade, 
 and the Argonaut editor. She could not see 
 his face, but there was something strikingly 
 familiar about the broad shoulders, and erect dark 
 head. All at once a double longing came over 
 her, first to disappear so that if her suspicion 
 was correct she could avoid a meeting at all 
 hazards, and second to see and to speak with him, 
 if it was indeed Rob. The tears rose suddenly 
 to her eyes, and the homesick lump, as Betty
 
 The Threshold of Fame 239 
 
 called it, filled her throat She wished that the 
 k'iil in red at the piano would not sing such a 
 plaintive, sad little song. It was enough to make 
 any one cry. But the voice went on, and the low, 
 sweet music filled the room, and under its spell 
 the whole studio faded away, and in its place, like 
 some far off beautiful mirage, was Rook's Nest, tum- 
 ble down and quaint among the tall lilacs, nodding 
 protectingly around, and there were faces at the 
 windows, anxious, loving faces from Muggins 
 down to the Lion, all watching the road that led 
 to the ravine for the return of the runaway. 
 
 The music stopped with a low, tremulous chord, 
 and before it had died away Avis raised her head, 
 and met the gaze of Bed Hover fixed steadily 
 upon her.
 
 CHAPTER XVn 
 
 1 The Cellar Spook 
 
 IT was after supper at Rook's Nest. Dora and 
 Winnie were wrestling with the dishes out in the 
 kitchen, and now and then came the sound of a 
 dull thud as Billie dropped an armful of wood be- 
 hind the cook stove. 
 
 " Bring in plenty, Billie," Marjorie called from 
 the sitting-room. " Frost to-night." 
 
 Uncle Cherrington's easy chair had been through 
 a rejuvenating process, thanks to Billie's deft tack- 
 ing, and now stood in the place of honor before 
 the open grate. It was reserved exclusively for 
 Uncle Harvey's comfort, but at present the Lion 
 lay curled up in its depths like a kitten, while Mr. 
 Newell paced to and fro the full length of the room 
 and back to Marjorie's sewing-table. They had 
 been talking seriously, at least Mr. Newell had, 
 and Marjorie's face was very thoughtful as she 
 bent over the pile of stockings in her lap and 
 worked out the puzzle of assorted sizes. 
 
 " You can't go on living like this," Mr. Newell 
 was saying, gently, but firmly. " Billie is fourteen 
 240
 
 The Cellar Spook 241 
 
 and must be sent to school I will invest what 
 would have been your mother's share of the money 
 and property of the Newell estate for all of you, 
 and you can live on the interest very comfortably, 
 but surely not here, Marjorie, my dear. Not in 
 this old rickety place, when I wish you to return 
 East with me and help to make my great, lonely 
 home bright and happy." 
 
 "But, Uncle Harvey, you don't understand," 
 Marjorie protested. " This is all my own, and I 
 love it so. I can't bear to leave it all behind. 
 And truly, I can manage splendidly, as you say, 
 on the interest of the money, and even if Billie 
 was to go to college, I could stay here with the 
 menagerie." 
 
 " It is of them you must think most," interposed 
 Mr. NewelL "The burden is too much for a 
 young girl like you to bear. I shall stay here a 
 while, at all events, so you need not begin to 
 worry so soon." He came across the room to the 
 armchair, and leaning over the back, looked down 
 at the Lion, cuddled there in his white nightgown, 
 fast asleep before the fire, and a tender, softened 
 light shone in his eyes, as he added, " It would be 
 very hard for me to leave you all now, and to 
 go back alone I did not know how lonesome 
 and self-centered my old life was until I entered 
 Book's Nest"
 
 242 Rook's Nest 
 
 Marjorie was silent. She did not feel as though 
 she could make any reply to his proposition until 
 she had consulted Billie. Since Avis' departure, 
 he had become her chief counselor, and grand 
 vizier on all questions relating to the welfare of 
 the kingdom of Kattletibang. She was very 
 silent and quiet, therefore, until Mr. Newell took 
 his lamp from the table, and bent over her to say 
 good-night. 
 
 " Don't worry, little girl," h> said, kindly, strok- 
 ing the tanglo of brown curls that would break 
 away from the restraining hairpins which she had 
 donned at Billie's earnest behest. "Do what 
 you think your mother would have wished. I 
 have considerable business on hand to-night, 
 and papers to glance over, and letters to write. 
 I may remain over in Chicago for a week or 
 more." 
 
 In an instant Marjorie's face was radiant with 
 hope and interest. She had almost forgotten the 
 trip her uncle had been planning. 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Harvey," she exclaimed, dropping 
 stockings, darning ball, thimble, and all, in a heap 
 on the floor. " Couldn't you try to see her Avis, I 
 mean, just to be sure she is all right, and and 
 not in need of anything ? I would give anything 
 to know. With Christmas coming on, just think 
 of all of us happy and comfortable, and perhaps
 
 The Cellar Spook 243 
 
 she only writes that she has plenty so as not to 
 bother me. She is very proud." 
 
 Mr. Newell smiled. 
 
 " I will try to bring back good news of her," he 
 replied. "I will look her up anyway, while I 
 am there. Billie, boy, bring a good-sized log for 
 the fire here. It is too low for the Lion to sleep 
 by." 
 
 He bent over and kissed Reggie's rosy cheek, 
 and called good-night to the others as ho crossed 
 the entry to the four-poster room which had been 
 turned over to him entirely. 
 
 Billie came in whistling softly, the big log on 
 his shoulder, and little, brown chips of bark cling- 
 ing to his jacket, and even in his hair. The fire 
 sprang up, and gave the new log a warm welcome. 
 After a few pokes at it, Billie settled himself full 
 length on the floor, and looked up at Marjorie. 
 
 " You and Avis always look at the fire as if you 
 saw things," he said, at last "Hobgoblins or 
 something. What is it ? " 
 
 "I don't know," Marjorie raised her head, 
 smilingly. " I was only thinking of Avis. Uncle 
 Harvey says he will look her up next week when 
 he goes to Chicago." 
 
 " And precious little thanks he'll get from her 
 royal highness if he does," quoth William, sagely. 
 " I've got an idea that she and Betty get along
 
 244 Rook's Nest 
 
 great together. I like tliat Betty, She's a brick. 
 She'll brace Avis up, bet a cookie, and teach, her 
 the stroke. If I were Uncle Harvey What's 
 the matter ? " 
 
 He turned sharply at the sound of feet, tip-toe- 
 ing along the entry way from the kitchen. 
 
 " Sh ! " whispered Dora, warningly, as she and 
 the Owl made a stealthy entrance. "It's there 
 again. Eight in the same place." 
 
 Marjorie's eyes met Billie's in an anxious flash 
 of comprehension, and she rose resolutely. 
 
 "It's only the wind," she said, firmly, taking 
 the light in one hand, while the rest clustered 
 closely about her" as she started for the kitchen. 
 
 " The wind, only the wind," echoed Billie, sol- 
 emnly. "It's Hansel and Gretel eating our gin- 
 gerbread house up. Wouldn't her royal highness 
 have seventeen fits if she were here now, and 
 could track the ghost to its hidden lair ! " 
 
 "Billie, be quiet," said Marjorie, in an under- 
 tone. "I want to listen. Dora, dear, you and 
 Winnie run back to Reggie, please." 
 
 " I want to stay with you and Billie," returned 
 the Lamb, rebelliously ; but the Owl, after a fear- 
 ful glance over her shoulder, fled back to the shel- 
 ter of the sitting-room, and nestled down beside 
 Beggie, her big, blue eyes wide with wonder, her 
 ears strained to catch every sound.
 
 The Cellar Spook 245 
 
 "It's over there," Dora said, pointing to a dim 
 corner near the pantry door, and Marjorie deliber- 
 ately set the lamp down, and went over to the 
 place designated. Then they all held their 
 breaths and listened. 
 
 There certainly was a mystery in the heart of 
 Book's Nest. In the silence of the old kitchen 
 they could hear distinctly the strange indefinable 
 sound, but whether it came from floor, walls or 
 ceiling, it was impossible to say. It was not a 
 knock, nor a whistle of wind. It was more like 
 the muffled sound of guns, like the dull, faint boom 
 of cannon miles and miles away. 
 
 It was not the first time they had heard it. 
 Every night for several weeks past it had sounded 
 in the same spot in the kitchen, and during the 
 daytime, as Marjorie went about doing her work, 
 she sometimes fancied she could hear the queer, 
 hollow, faraway sound. 
 
 Uncle Harvey had heard it, and laughed in his 
 amused, doubting way. 
 
 " Wind or rats," he would say, shaking his head, 
 laughingly, at the troubled faces. "Either a hole 
 in this Book's Nest of ramshackle boards forms a 
 trumpet for the wind to blow through, or else it is 
 the Enchanted Goblin turned loose. Marjorie, 
 you're growing nervous in your old age." 
 
 Marjorie would join in his laugh, but still havQ
 
 246 Rook's Nest 
 
 the same wonder in her heart as to what the 
 strange noise could be. 
 
 To-night after a prolonged stare at the corner, 
 Billie suddenly mounted a chair, and held one ear 
 to the wall. 
 
 " It isn't there," he said. " And there isn't a sign 
 of an attic overhead. Spooks like attics. Maybe 
 they dance jigs on the roof in the moonlight." 
 
 "Don't be funny. Try the floor," answered 
 Marjorie, severely. 
 
 But Billie was already on the floor, one ear laid 
 close to the cracks of the trap-door which led to 
 the little cellar under the kitchen. 
 
 " Sh ! " ho whispered. " I've got the spook. 
 He's down with the turnips, bet a cookie." 
 
 In a moment all three were listening at the 
 cracks, and Marjorie gave a startled gasp. 
 
 "Why, it is down there, Billie." 
 
 " 'Course, it is," retorted Billie, serenely. " I 
 knew it all the time. I'm going down. You hold 
 the light, Muggins." 
 
 " Wait till I call Uncle Harvey," said the latter, 
 but Billie waxed indignant. 
 
 " Don't you dare," he commanded, sternly. " I'll 
 manage this my own self. Give me that poker. 
 There ! Charge Chester, charge, on Stanley, on ! 
 Muggins, for pity's sake don't let that trap-door fall 
 on my topknot, and please hold the light low."
 
 The Cellar Spook 247 
 
 "I'm coming after you," said Marjorie, gath- 
 ering up her skirts in one hand. "Dora, you 
 attend to the door, and don't get frightened, 
 mind." 
 
 "Whose 'fraid," returned the valiant Lamb, 
 stoutly, although her heart beat fast, as Billie cau- 
 tiously raised the door, and took a preliminary 
 peep into the dark depths below. 
 
 " Come on," he whispered, grasping the poker 
 firmly, and together the two went slowly, step by 
 step, down the steep but short flight of wooden 
 stairs that led to the small cellar. At the bottom 
 they paused, and Marjorie held the lamp above her 
 head, so as to let its light shine full on the whole 
 place. It was a mere excuse for a cellar, just such 
 a cobwebby cubbyhole as one would expect to find 
 under Rook's Nest When harvest time had come, 
 Billie had made an effort to clear out some of its 
 rubbish and dust, and the floor, which was plain 
 earth, had been swept and smoothed over, and 
 some planking laid in the corners to accommodate 
 the winter store of vegetables. The latter was all 
 the cellar contained, unless one took into account 
 the strange, shapeless pile underneath the chairs. 
 Since cold weather had rendered indoor existence 
 a necessity, Billie and the menagerie had found 
 considerable trouble in disposing of their cumber- 
 some treasures.
 
 248 Rook's Nest 
 
 " There are whole stacks of things," Billie ex- 
 plained, loftily, to the indignant princess of the 
 realm, " that you have to keep somewhere because 
 they may come in handy some day. What would 
 you have done the day the leg came off the stove 
 if I hadn't saved up all those old bricks ? Where ' 
 would your old kettle have been if it hadn't been 
 for that silver hatpin Avis threw away, and I melted 
 up for the hole in the spout? How about your 
 old tub when it went to pieces, if I hadn't dropped 
 those iron hoops into the cellar? What would 
 you have done for a china closet if I hadn't kept 
 those soap boxes you wanted to use for kindling 
 wood? No, sir-ree. If anybody finds anything 
 and doesn't know what it's good for, just let them 
 drop it down under the cellar stairs until we find 
 out we need it Like to know what a lot of girls 
 would do, anyway, trying to keep house without a 
 man around." 
 
 Now that the cellar had become a place of mys- 
 tery, Billie's interest, after wandering from pota- 
 toes to turnips and cabbages, centered on the pile 
 under the stairs. 
 
 "I don't hear it now," said Marjorie, in a whis- 
 per, but Billie rounded the corner of the stairs, 
 cautiously, and bent over the pile with poker up- 
 raised in one hand as if he expected to harpoon an 
 escaped whale. All at once, even as they stood
 
 The Cellar Spook 249 
 
 waiting, there came the strange noise directly be- 
 neath the heap of odds and ends, as though it 
 came from the bowels of tho earth. 
 
 " Can you poke it, Billie ? " asked the Lamb, anx- 
 iously, her head appearing over the edge of the 
 kitchen floor, above, and wagging at them with 
 alarming looseness. "Shall I throw down the 
 broom ? " 
 
 " Go back. You look as if you were beheaded," 
 ordered Billie. " No, you needn't throw down the 
 broom, or the clock, or anything else. Just keep 
 still. Hold the light low, Muggins, while I dig a 
 little." 
 
 " Under those boxes, Billie," said Marjorie, her 
 face flushed with excitement, as she pointed to the 
 spot where the noise seemed to come from. " Clear 
 those away first." 
 
 Billie promptly proceeded with all diligence and 
 caution to push aside the medley of tin pans, soap 
 boxes, and different things, until he had cleared 
 away a space of several feet, and revealed the bare 
 earth beneath. The noise ceased for a moment, 
 then recommenced, a faint, dull, indescribable 
 sound, that came from the ground itself. 
 
 Marjorie looked at Billie in consternation. 
 
 " What do you suppose it is ? " she exclaimed. 
 "A volcano?" 
 
 "Maybe," replied Billie, staring solemnly at tho
 
 250 Rook's Nest 
 
 ground. "It sounds as if it could blow up if it 
 wanted to. Now it's gone again." 
 
 This time the noise did not return, and after 
 waiting for awhile in vain, the two explorers gave 
 up the quest, and went up to the kitchen with 
 grave faces. Marjorie set the lamp down on the 
 table, and met Billie's gaze with her eyes full of 
 questioning concern. 
 
 "It would frighten Winnie and the Lion if they 
 knew," she said at last. " Don't tell a word about 
 it, Dora." 
 
 " And don't tell Uncle Harvey, either," rejoined 
 Billie, firmly. " Let's wait till he's gone, and then 
 dig." 
 
 So with this resolution the matter was let rest. 
 There was a heavy snowfall that night, and strange 
 to say, the mysterious sound was not heard again 
 for several days, whereupon Billie and the Lamb 
 pondered, and puzzled, and went about as if 
 weighed down by the state secrets of a nation. 
 But Marjorie was too much absorbed in Mr. New- 
 ell's departure for Chicago to think of anything 
 except that he would find Avis, and bring back 
 definite news of her. They all went to the depot 
 to see him off, and the parting was as affecting, so 
 far as the menagerie was concerned, as if he had 
 been going to the South Sea Islands. 
 
 "Don't forget your promise," were Marjorie's
 
 The Cellar Spook 251 
 
 last words, but they were lost under a deluge of 
 desires from the menagerie, called recklessly after 
 the moving train. 
 
 Billie was the only one who stood aloof. When 
 the train had disappeared behind the line of trees 
 in the distance, he heaved a sigh of relief, and 
 smiled wisely. 
 
 "Now, ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we will 
 return to our wigwam, and hold a solemn pow 
 wow." 
 
 " Danthing, Billie ? " cried the Lion, suiting the 
 action to the word, by capering joyously around 
 the platform, at the imminent risk of breaking his 
 neck on the rails below. 
 
 "No," replied Billie, with a gleam of anticipa- 
 tion in his eyes. "Digging."
 
 CHAPTER XVffl 
 In the Fourth Floor Back 
 
 " Miss OGDEN, do you know that girl in red ? " 
 Betty exclaimed, warmly, as the music ceased. "I 
 think she must be splendid, or she could never 
 sing like that. See, every one is crowding around 
 her. Can't you introduce us, too ? " 
 
 Miss Ogden readily assented ; but Avis pleaded 
 her preference for her corner, and they left her 
 alone. The next moment Hob had crossed the 
 room eagerly, and taken the vacant seat beside 
 her, his brown eyes full of gladness. 
 
 " How on earth did you happen here ? " he asked, 
 and she noticed that his old shyness was gone, so 
 far as she was concerned. " I hardly knew you at 
 first, with your hair twisted up that way, and you 
 look as if you were used to it all." 
 
 "But, I'm not," she answered, laughingly. "It 
 is my first real good time, and I don't feel a bit 
 used to it. It makes me wish I had done some- 
 thing wonderful, and that everybody knew me or 
 wanted to know me, don't you know ? I feel out 
 in the cold." 
 
 252
 
 In the Fourth Floor Back 253 
 
 "So do I, a little," said Kob. "I only know 
 Miss Wade and Mr. Benson. He looks fierce, but 
 he is not, not a bit. He gave me my first lift in 
 pen and ink work a month ago. Nothing special. 
 Only a little odd bit now and then to illustrate in 
 the Argonaut, but he thinks he can get me on the 
 Times-Herald this month, and then I shall feel as 
 if my fortune was made already. What are you 
 doing in Chicago, Avis ? " 
 
 Avis flushed, and a wave of the old pride swept 
 over her. How could she tell Bob Rogers of the 
 fourth floor back room, and all the petty priva- 
 tions that were stealing down on her, and the al- 
 most hopeless collapse of her air bubble of suc- 
 cess. 
 
 " Still writing," she replied, with an attempt at 
 carelessness. " It is pretty slow work fighting, 
 isn't it ? Everything looks so different seen from 
 a distance." 
 
 "I know, from East Elmore." Rob was silent 
 for a moment Some one was going to recite, and 
 he leaned back among the cushions and listened, 
 with his thoughts flying like birds to Rook's Nest, 
 ;m<! Marjorie. What ought he to say to Avis, now 
 tluit he had found her by .accident? Marjorie, in 
 spite of Avis' request to the contrary, had written 
 a fervent appeal to Rob in this wise : 
 
 " If you do find her, Rob, look after her for me.
 
 254 Rook's Nest 
 
 Find out if she has plenty, and is comfortable. 
 Ask her if she is happy, and if she misses us or 
 not. And whatever you do, don't lose track of her 
 after you have found her. If I thought she were 
 in need, I would send her a barrel of things, and 
 then come on top of them myself." 
 
 Bob looked at Avis' clear cut profile to-night, as 
 she turned her head to catch a glimpse of the 
 speaker's face, and wondered how he could ask her 
 point blank if she were in need, for there was an 
 older, more independent look in her eyes, and the 
 small, firm mouth was closed more resolutely than 
 ever. 
 
 " Where are you living ? " he asked at last, when 
 the monologist had finished, and the hum of voices 
 rose again on all sides. " I am on the South Side. 
 Hall bed-room, and a fifteen cent restaurant around 
 the corner. Don't you ever think you'd give your 
 little finger nail for a good square meal at home ? 
 I do. Billie writes often to me, and I have not 
 got over the homesick feeling yet. Have you, 
 Avis?" 
 
 Avis sat with downcast eyes, her hands clasped 
 closely together, her one great longing that she 
 would not break down and cry then and there ; but 
 all at once Betty's merry, brisk voice broke the 
 awkward pause, and she welcomed her eagerly. 
 
 " Bob Bogers ? " repeated Betty, with her frank,
 
 In the Fourth Floor Back 255 
 
 bright smile, as she took in the stranger's general 
 appearance with one quick glance of her brown 
 eyes. " I've known you ever so long, and you look 
 even better than I expected you would, from what 
 Avis told me." 
 
 " I don't think I would like to hear her unbiased 
 opinion of me," answered Bob, with a laugh that 
 covered the underlying embarrassment of his tone. 
 " We were never very good friends." 
 
 "No," returned Betty, in a burst of confidence, 
 that made Avis long to shake her, or throw the 
 cushions at her in a fit of desperation, that would 
 have done credit to the Lamb. " She doesn't ap- 
 prove of you, exactly ; but still your coming to the 
 city, you know, has made you a little more inter- 
 esting. But one can never tell. You may be like 
 the man with the bushy hair some day, and Avis 
 and I will be still pegging along " 
 
 " Betty," exclaimed Avis, suddenly, " Miss Ogden 
 is trying to catch your eye. She wants to tell you 
 something," and she arose to accompany Betty. 
 
 " When will I see you again ? " asked Bob, ris- 
 ing also and looking down on her with a twinkle 
 of amusement in his eyes that sent the last friendly 
 impulse toward him from her heart. 
 
 " I don't know," she answered, briefly. " I am 
 very busy, and have no time to spare, and suppose 
 it is the same with you."
 
 256 Rook's Nest 
 
 " I always go the rounds of the art galleries and 
 Institute on Saturdays," said Bob, quickly, forget- 
 ting all save Marjorie's injunction not to lose track 
 of her royal highness. " It doesn't cost anything, 
 and it keeps a fellow in line somehow. Wouldn't 
 you like that?" 
 
 " No " began Avis, but Betty glanced over her 
 shoulder, with a friendly nod. 
 
 " They're great," she said. " We always do them 
 Wednesdays. Good-night." 
 
 Miss Ogden was waiting for them in the oriental 
 corner, and there was a troubled look in her kindly 
 grey eyes that bothered Betty at once. 
 
 "Anything I've done?" was her first anxious 
 query. 
 
 ** Oh, no, no, girlie, of course not," answered the 
 other. " Only I've something to tell you that is 
 very unpleasant." 
 
 " I know it isn't becoming," Betty interposed, in 
 a tragic whisper, as she gave her high collar a tug. 
 " And I feel as if I were being guillotined by slow 
 degrees, but it's the style, and I can't help it. You 
 ought to sympathize and not pounce on me like 
 this to scold." 
 
 But Miss Ogden only shook her head a trifle 
 sadly. 
 
 " It isn't a joke, Betty, it's business. I am com- 
 ing back to the American Beauty next week."
 
 In the Fourth Floor Back 257 
 
 "As editor?" The smile died away from 
 Betty's face in an instant, as she asked the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " Yes, they have decided to give np the syndi- 
 cate service, and go back to the old way. The 
 publisher from the East is coming on Monday to 
 discuss the change and make arrangements." 
 
 " Well, will I be needed then? " There was not 
 a tremor in the steady, resolute voice, although 
 Betty knew all that hung on the answer. 
 
 " I hardly know," answered Miss Ogden, reluc- 
 tantly, laying her arm around Betty's shoulders. 
 " That will be decided next week. I hope so, and 
 I will do my best for you. I am more sorry than 
 I can say, Betty. Why don't you try the news- 
 papers ? " 
 
 Betty shook her head bravely. 
 
 " Don't bother about me. I always find a way 
 somehow." Then a sudden gleam of hope flashed 
 across her. "If you give up the syndicate you 
 will go back to the old writers, won't you ? Well, 
 then, why can't you look at Avis' new story, and 
 see if you can't use it ? " 
 
 Miss Wade was coming toward them, and Miss 
 Ogden barely had time to assent, before she 
 had to accompany their hostess over to another 
 group. 
 
 "It can't be helped," Betty said, choking back
 
 258 Rook's Nest 
 
 a sigli. " But we'll have to live on liope &nd gin- 
 gersnaps unless something turns up." 
 
 " What if she accepts my story ? " asked Avis, 
 hopefully. 
 
 " Then we will live on chocolate creams and 
 salted peanuts, and go to the theatre once again, 
 and buy Madame a new pair of white gloves. 
 She says she can stand anything in life's adver- 
 sities, except having her white gloves give up the 
 ghost. 'It is not zat zey are so grand, Bettee. 
 It is zat zey are so much ze gen-teel.' That is 
 what she says, and I understand, but the great 
 point is this, Avis, my child," and Betty thought- 
 fully accepted, as she spoke, a glass of lemon ice 
 from Miss Ogden's hands, when the latter passed 
 them, laden with ices. " What if she does not ac- 
 cept it, then we will have to catch the first soap 
 box we see, turn it into a hand car, and work our 
 way to Rook's Nest, and Muggins. Otherwise we 
 won't eat turkey for Christmas, that's all." 
 
 It was a dubious ending to the evening's pleas- 
 ure. Although Betty tried to keep up a brave 
 heart, and laugh over the loss of her position, the 
 smile would vanish from her face every now and 
 then, and Avis would see the puzzled, worried 
 shadow in its stead. 
 
 Mr. Benson had taken Bob in tow, and they did 
 not have any further chance of speaking with him,
 
 In the Fourth Floor Back 259 
 
 much to Avis' secret relief ; but when they were 
 once more in the street car, homeward bound, 
 Betty suddenly exclaimed after a long pause : 
 
 " Why don't you like that Rogers boy ? I think 
 ho is splendid." 
 
 Avis was startled into what Billie would have 
 called her clam-shell state of pride. She simply 
 shut herself up in a shell of reticence and re- 
 sentment, and refused to hold communication 
 with ordinary people, who failed to see sense 
 in her fancies. But Betty was not one to be 
 shut out. 
 
 "Oh, you needn't freeze up, Avis, and look 
 so cross. He is a splendid boy, and you treated 
 him qucerly, and I want to know what the 
 trouble is. You never said much of anything 
 about him, at all, not even that he was in Chicago. 
 Why?" 
 
 Avis looked at the frank brown eyes, that 
 seemed to see through and through her, and re- 
 membering Marjorie's eyes, so like them, felt her- 
 self thawing helplessly under their direct ques- 
 tioning. 
 
 " Why, because I don't like him," she answered, 
 positively. 
 
 "But why don't you? " 
 
 " I don't know. Oh, yes, I do, too," as a flash 
 of memory came to her. "Billie said once that
 
 260 Rook's Nest 
 
 Rob thought I was silly." She jerked out the 
 hated word, with an effort, that brought a half 
 sob with it, and Betty nodded in wise compre- 
 hension. 
 
 " I see. You think he is fine, just as I do, but 
 you like him so much, and think he is so splendid, 
 that you can't bear to have such a nice boy think 
 you're silly. Is that it ? " 
 
 "No, it is not," said Avis, indignantly, her 
 cheeks flushing suddenly with anger, and hurt 
 self pride. " He thinks my ambition is silly, my 
 work silly, everything I say, or do, silly ! He 
 thinks there is no one like Muggins, and that she's 
 a martyr, and I'm a deserter ! Now, don't you see 
 why I don't like him ? " 
 
 " I wonder if it wouldn't be best for us to move 
 into the hall bed-room, at one dollar per week," 
 remarked Betty, serenely, and the subject was 
 dropped without another word. 
 
 Then began several weeks of battle. "When 
 Betty went down to the office of the American 
 Beauty on Monday, she found Miss Ogden in- 
 stalled in her old place at the big red editorial 
 desk, and only a prospect of about ten days' work 
 left for her, while the new editor needed an as- 
 sistant in making a change from syndicate service 
 back to the old way of dealing directly with the 
 writers. She noticed an air of unwonted bustle
 
 In the Fourth Floor Back 261 
 
 and preparation about the place, and Miss Ogden 
 said the manager and publisher was expected from 
 New York any day. 
 
 At the home on Dearborn Aveuue, matters went 
 from bad to worse. Madame Penionte was inter- 
 viewed on the gravity of the situation, but she 
 vowed that if they dared give up their large back 
 room for the cheaper hall bed-room, she would 
 grow grey in despair, and Betty must pay her but 
 one dollar for rent of the big room. So they kept 
 their old room, and the precious story of "Lor- 
 raine's Legacy," which had come back from a 
 local publisher, express collect, was at once con- 
 signed to Miss Ogden's tender mercies. 
 
 As soon as her ten days' work was finished at 
 the Beauty office, Betty began to take a deep inter- 
 est in the " want ads " of tho various papers. 
 
 " You mind your own affairs, Avis," she would 
 say, blithely, " and let me manage the work part 
 I can find something to do." 
 
 But after a day or so, Avis laid aside her pen 
 and paper, and started out alone to find some 
 work. She had several " ads " to answer, for of- 
 fice work mostly, and had spent her first week's 
 salary ten times over before she had even reached 
 the first place. There were about thirty girls 
 standing in line before her, and she turned away 
 with a curious feeling o* iouot in herself that was
 
 262 Rook's Nest 
 
 entirely new to her royal highness, and would 
 have made Billie rejoice greatly. 
 
 When she reached home, after tramping to and 
 fro nearly all day, she found Betty fussing over 
 the little gas stove. 
 
 " Think you're very clever at stealing a march 
 on me, don't you ? " she called over her shoulder. 
 " Bet you went off without a sign of rubbers and 
 the snow and slush is a foot deep down town." 
 
 " They're not very wet," said Avis, ruefully. 
 
 " Don't talk back to me when I'm playing Mug- 
 gins. Take off those wet shoes, and come and 
 eat I have a ten cent can of baked beans, and I 
 am warming them up in the last of the catsup. 
 We have got to eat crackers. The bread is gone." 
 
 She drew the little table up to its accustomed 
 place beside the bed, and set the supper on it as 
 though it had been a full course dinner. Avis 
 was over in the big camp rocker, removing her 
 damp shoes for a pair of knit bed-room slippers 
 that Marjorie had sent her, and Betty's quick ear 
 caught the sound of a cough. 
 
 "You've caught cold," she said, decidedly. 
 " Now you can go to bed, and be dosed. I have 
 some great, good news." 
 
 " Did you see Miss Ogden ? " and a glad light 
 of hope leaped into Avis' tired eyes. "Will she 
 take the story ? "
 
 In the Fourth Floor Back 263 
 
 *' Guess again," said Betty, trying to bo cheer- 
 ful. " I have a week's work addressing envelopes 
 at the mighty wage of $5.00, so we shall not 
 starve yet awhile, that is, if we can live until pay 
 day. Avis, don't" 
 
 But Avis had thrown herself on the bed and 
 was sobbing bitterly. All her own failure swept 
 over her in a moment, all the wreck of her beauti- 
 ful hopes and dreams, and she felt crushed and 
 defeated. Betty regarded her in silence for a 
 while, and then went on serenely with her own 
 supper. 
 
 "Cry," she said. "Cry hard. It does you 
 more good than anything, and I know how you 
 feel. Only do stay in the house, and keep your- 
 self well, and let me do the tramping, because I'm 
 used to it" 
 
 The following day Avis' cold was worse, and 
 when Betty left at eight o'clock in the morning 
 for her new position, she stopped at Madame 
 Penionte's little suite back of the parlor and had 
 a serious talk with her. 
 
 " I made her stay in bed," she concluded, " but 
 her pulse is fast, and she coughs lots. Please do 
 something for her, Madame, dear ; hot ginger and 
 goose grease, Aunt Felicia used to dose me with, 
 but I suppose that's old-fashioned. There's some 
 money for anything you need at the drug store.."
 
 264 Rook's Nest 
 
 and she laid on the table her last whole dollar 
 without a qualm of regret, and walked the dis- 
 tance down town with fifteen cents in her pocket- 
 book, and a world of love and hope in her heart. 
 
 Up-stairs in the back room lay Avis, sick and 
 lonely. Che could catch a glimpse of the world 
 of roofs through the window, but it was a grey, 
 snowy morning, and the prospect was far from 
 being a cheerful one. She had promised Betty 
 she would not cry, but the tears would rise up re- 
 belliously, and wet her pillow. Only a few weeks 
 to Christmas. She knew how Billie would hunt 
 the woods for evergreen to trim up the Nest, and 
 how busy Marjorie's loving fingers must be mak- 
 ing little gifts for all her brood. They would all 
 fare well this year, she thought, with Aunt Be- 
 thiah there. And she herself had been six whole 
 weeks in her fairyland that had seemed so rich 
 with promises, and yet not a single remembrance 
 could she send home, not a trophy of her prowess. 
 
 " So it is Avie, who is ill," said Madarne's sweet 
 voice at the door, and she entered bearing a 
 dainty, breakfast tray, and set it down beside the 
 bed. " It is nothing, cherie," as Avis made a dep- 
 recating gesture, "but a slice of toast, with ze 
 egg poached in cream on it, very choice. And ze 
 coffee. Ah, Bettee say nowhere is zare such cof- 
 fee as my coffee. And ze orange."
 
 In the Fourth Floor Back 265 
 
 " Oh, mudame, Low good you are to me," Avis 
 said, her flushed face full of gratitude. "But, 
 honest, and true, I'm not a bit hungry." 
 
 " No ? " Madame's eyes twinkled with amuse- 
 ment. " What if I have something zat make ze 
 appetite ? " and she held up a letter invitingly. 
 
 " Oh, you dear ! " cried Avis, reaching for it, 
 eagerly. " I'll eat everything." 
 
 Madame laughed, and laid the letter in her out- 
 stretched hands, then quietly moved about, putting 
 the room in order, and humming softly to herself. 
 
 The letter was from Marjorie. 
 
 " I suppose you are so busy with your precious 
 work," she wrote, " that you hardly remember it 
 is almost Christmas, but here we talk of nothing 
 else. Mrs. Eogers was over this morning, show- 
 ing me how to make mince-pies, and lots of 
 things. I made two just to try, and they are so 
 good that I am going to send one to you and 
 Betty. Now don't laugh, perhaps it will taste 
 good. Billie put the nuts around the sides of the 
 box to fill up. He and the menagerie have a 
 royal stock on hand, you know, and he wanted 
 you to have some, too. Don't forget us all, Avis, 
 will you, in the midst of all your success ? Of 
 course I know you are sure to have a splendid 
 Christmas, but do please miss us a little. We 
 want you home in the Nest so much "
 
 266 Rook's Nest 
 
 Avis could read no more. Madame glanced 
 over her shoulder and saw the forlorn figure lying 
 face downward in the pillows. 
 
 " Is it ze illness for ze home place, cherie ? " 
 she asked, in her quaint, twisted English, with a 
 loving pat on the soft blonde hair. " Bettee says 
 for zat, zare is nothing like one grand cry." 
 
 Avis nodded wearily. It seemed to her as 
 though all life had narrowed down now to the 
 " illness for the home place," and " one grand 
 cry." 
 
 That night, seated on the topmost stair on the 
 landing, Betty listened to the doctor's retreating 
 footsteps with an aching heart, and wondered if 
 people who were threatened with pneumonia ever 
 died, and whether Muggins ought not to know.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 The Princess* Treasure 
 
 THE snow that nearly submerged the little Nest 
 in its mighty drifts remained for several days, and 
 there being no return of the mysterious noise, 
 Marjorie commanded that all efforts to discover its 
 origin be postponed, and the energies of the Rat- 
 tletibangers directed toward the preparations for 
 Christmas. 
 
 There were wonderful secrets in the air. The 
 Owl and the Lion chuckled over hidden mysteries 
 in their corner, and Billie went about in a heavy, 
 portentious manner, with a glue pot in one hand 
 and a jack-knife in the other, and sought sanctuary 
 out in the wood-shed. He and Mr. Rogers had 
 gone out in the woods farther down the river, and 
 searched for a Christmas tree ; and, when it was 
 finally selected, never was ye yule log of olden 
 time hauled from its forest home with such jolli- 
 fication and shouting. Two of Mr. Rogers' big 
 russet colored oxen were yoked up, and made the 
 central feature of a triumphal procession to the 
 
 267
 
 268 Rook's Nest 
 
 woods, Billie and the Lion astride their backs 
 like bold caballeros. When the stately evergreen 
 crashed to the ground, Dora and Winnie mounted 
 its branches, and rode home enthroned like prin- 
 cesses ; only as the Owl said, " It was a little 
 bumpy." 
 
 Mrs. Rogers had invited them all to spend 
 Christmas with her, and have the tree at the farm, 
 but Marjorie said no. It might be the last Christ- 
 mas they would spend in the little home that they 
 all loved so well. So the tree was crowded into the 
 sitting-room, and Billie and Mr. Keith fixed it up- 
 right in a box in the centre of the room. 
 
 "It looks as if a Hindoo wizard had been 
 around and made everything sprout," Marjorie 
 said, when the last yard of evergreen had been 
 twined around the wall, and a wreath placed in 
 every window. 
 
 "Bet a cookie her royal highness wishes she 
 was home," Billie remarked, confidently. He 
 had brought a big milk-pan full of pop-corn 
 ears into the sitting-room from the kitchen, and 
 seated himself on a stool near the fire to shell 
 them. It was late in the afternoon. The sun 
 shone redly through the rows of lilacs, and made 
 the snow-drifts look like piles of strawberry ice- 
 cream. 
 
 "Now, don't look out of the window and get
 
 The Princess' Treasure 269 
 
 mournful," he addod, hastily, as Marjorie walked 
 over to the window without answering. "I 
 wouldn't worry the way you do for anything. 
 Didn't Uncle Harvey say he'd look her up ? " 
 
 A dark, curly head was poked suddenly into 
 doorway. 
 
 " Billie "- 
 
 " Go down cellar, and get some apples," com- 
 manded Billie, severely. " Get russets, and those 
 little yellow sweet ones. I'm busy." 
 
 The head vanished. 
 
 " I'm going to pop this to-night," he went on, 
 " all of it, so that the Lion and Winnie can string 
 it for the tree. And Christmas we'll make pop- 
 corn balls, and pull molasses candy, and have 
 whole oodles of nuts " 
 
 "Have what?" 
 
 " Oodles. Stacks, bunches, piles. Oodles sounds 
 more than any of them. And apples, and dough- 
 nuts, and "- 
 
 There was a wild scrambling in the kitchen, 
 and a prolonged howl that only the Lion could be 
 guilty of. The pan of pop-corn fell to the floor, 
 and Billie stampeded madly toward the scene of 
 action, with Marjorie following at his heels. They 
 were just in time to see the Lamb emerge from 
 the cellar opening on all fours, while the remain- 
 der of the menagerie had fled to a far corner.
 
 270 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Now what have you done ? " demanded Billie. 
 " Scared a spider into fits ? " 
 
 " You can go down after your old apples, your- 
 self," returned Dora, haughtily, shutting the cellar 
 door with a bang. "I won't go down there again 
 for anything. It's there again." 
 
 " It is ? " In an instant Billie was alert and 
 eager. He raised the door and listened. The 
 strange noise could be plainly heard, and Dora 
 edged cautiously toward Marjorie. 
 
 " I'm going to find out about that this time, or 
 go and be a soldier," announced the man of the 
 house, resolutely. " Dora, get the big shovel 
 from the wood-shed, please, and the hoe, too, to 
 hack with. Come on, Muggins." 
 
 But Marjorie hesitated long enough to whisper 
 something in Winnie's ear, something very im- 
 portant, for both she and the Lion donned their 
 cloaks and caps, and started off without the knowl- 
 edge of Billie, who was already down in the cel- 
 lar pounding on the ground underneath the stairs. 
 When Marjorie came down with one of the lamps, 
 he had succeeded in loosening the hard, trodden 
 earth considerably. 
 
 " Light the barn lantern, too, Muggins," he said, 
 breathlessly. " I can hold that down low." 
 
 The large shovel and hoe were handed down by 
 Dora, with the addition of an old pitchfork.
 
 The Princess' Treasure 271 
 
 "To dag anything with," she explained. "Wish 
 we had a spear or a tomahawk, or something that 
 I could throw from up here." 
 
 "And stick me with like a bug on a pin," 
 growled Billie. "Not much. Don't you dare 
 throw even a clothespin this way. Hold the lan- 
 tern low, Muggins, please." 
 
 The pitchfork did its work first After Billie 
 hud thoroughly loosened the ground with it, he 
 tried the shovel. Meamwhile the dull noise never 
 ceased its strange, deep-toned grumble. Each 
 shovelful of earth lifted brought the sound nearer, 
 and Marjorie was as excited as Billie himself as 
 the hole grew larger and deeper. 
 
 " Is the dirt getting hot ? " called Dora, anxiously. 
 "I shouldn't wonder if it were a volcano after all, 
 should you, Billie ? " 
 
 " Not a bit," retorted her comrade, as he made 
 a mighty strike with the pitchfork into a fresh 
 layer. It grated on metal and rebounded in his 
 hand instantly. 
 
 " Look out ! " Marjorie could not restrain the 
 quick cry of alarm. Billie had dropped the pitch- 
 fork, and fell to shoveling vigorously until finally 
 the shovel edge met with an obstacle, and then he 
 took the lantern and knelt over the hole eagerly. 
 
 "AVhat is it?" asked Marjorie, bending over his 
 shoulder anxiously. "Can you .see anything?"
 
 272 Rook's Nest 
 
 "No, but I can feel something." Billie tlirust 
 his arm fearlessly into the hole. It was not quite 
 a foot and a half deep, but the earth was hard and 
 damp to the touch, and his hand rested on iron. 
 He felt around it cautiously. It was round, and 
 as large as the top of a tub. Where the iron 
 ended, some substance equally as cold and resist- 
 ing took its place, and this extended as far as he 
 could feel, which was only a few inches beyond 
 the outer rim of the iron circle. 
 
 " Wait a minute," he said. " There's a ring in 
 the center of the iron, if I can only get it up." 
 
 "Let me try," exclaimed Marjorie, kneeling on 
 the opposite side of the hole. Just as she did so, 
 however, the noise came again, this time so near 
 that both sprang back instinctively. At the same 
 time they heard the kitchen door close, and foot- 
 steps overhead. 
 
 "Don't you want some help down there ? " called 
 Mr. Keith, as he came quickly down the stairs. 
 " Won't you let the poor ghost rest in peace, Bil- 
 lie?" 
 
 "That's the liveliest ghost ever you saw, Mr. 
 Keith," said Billie, seriously, leaning back to wipe 
 his flushed, moist face on his coat sleeve. " Look 
 what I've found." 
 
 After a minute's scrutiny of the hole and the 
 iron disc at the bottom, Mr. Keith removed his
 
 The Princess' Treasure 273 
 
 coat and went to shoveling vigorously, clearing a 
 good space on a level with the circle at the bottom. 
 Then he took the lantern and made a careful ex- 
 amination. 
 
 " It is the cover to something," he said, finally. 
 "This outer rim is cement and rock. We can 
 raise the cover, I think, Billie, by slipping the 
 handle of the hoe through the ring and using it as 
 a lever. It is oak and stoutly braced with iron." 
 
 "You're a jim dandy," murmured Billie, ad- 
 miringly, as he obeyed orders, and took a firm 
 grip of the handle. All at once the noise sounded 
 beneath, and Allyn turned to Marjorie. 
 
 "Will you please go up-stairs, Marjorie," he 
 said. " The children are frightened." 
 
 Marjorie obeyed the firm, quiet voice as willingly 
 as Billie had done ; although she knew the owner 
 was not thinking so much of the children's fright as 
 he was of her safety in case anything happened. 
 
 Allyn drew a breath of relief when she had 
 gone. 
 
 "Now, then, Billie, boy," he said, resolutely, 
 " a long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull with 
 all your might Steady." 
 
 As they raised the oak handle, the iron cover 
 stirred with a dull grating sound, as if in resent- 
 ment at this untimely disturbance of its repose. 
 Harder, stronger yet came the force against it It
 
 274 Rook's Nest 
 
 lifted an inch a foot wavered, and finally fell 
 backward with a sharp, metallic clang against the 
 stone and cement, exposing to view a deep, dark 
 aperture. 
 
 "Don't lean over, Billie," cautioned Allyn, 
 quickly. " There may be poisonous gases down 
 there." 
 
 "It's more like fresh air," said Billie, amazedly. 
 " There's water, moving water, not still well water. 
 Don't you hear it?" 
 
 There was certainly the low, gentle sound of 
 water lapping against the stone and cement ma- 
 sonry, and they could see it sparkle not five feet 
 below. 
 
 " If we only had a sounding line," began Allyn, 
 eager as a boy over the discovery ; but Billie called 
 loudly : 
 
 " Muggins, tie a fork to the end of the ball of 
 twine, and come down. It isn't a well, is it ? " he 
 added, to Allyn. 
 
 " I don't believe so," the latter answered, doubt- 
 fully, peering down at the hole, and tapping the 
 masonry as far as he could reach with the hoe 
 handle. " Here's something queer. It is like an 
 old bucket chain fastened into the stone work. I 
 shouldn't wonder if this was the ghost." 
 
 As he spoke the rusty chain swung slightly, and 
 far down like an echo from a cavern, came the hoi-
 
 The Princess' Treasure 275 
 
 low dull noise that had been the cause of all the 
 trouble. 
 
 Billie's eyes looked as if he expected to see a 
 spectre rise at any moment and declare itself. 
 
 " Jehoshaphat ! " he gasped. " Isn't that a won- 
 der, though ! It comes from the bottom, if there 
 is a bottom. Hurry up, Muggins, with that fork." 
 
 Not only Marjorie, but Dora also hurried down 
 the cellar stairs at the call Allyn took the long 
 line of twine from the former. It was more than 
 ten feet long, and weighted with one of the heavy 
 bone handled kitchen forks. He leaned over, and 
 let it drop slowly into the hole, but before it had 
 fallen seven feet, the line slacked, and the bottom 
 was touched. 
 
 " Pull up the chain," suggested Billie, who had 
 had his eye on it for some time. " It's swaying 
 again. Is it heavy ? " 
 
 " A little," returned the other, as he laid the im- 
 provised plumb line on the ground beside him, and 
 turned his attention to the chain. " It feels as if 
 it had an old water bucket on the end. Take hold, 
 Billie, here it comes." 
 
 The two hauled at the heavy, rusty chain, and 
 after a lot of scraping and dull thumping as some- 
 thing swung against the wall, the end was reached, 
 and Billie seized the mystery boldly when it came 
 to the top, and laid it at Marjorie's feet
 
 276 Rook's Nest 
 
 "There's your old ghost, princess," he said, in 
 triumph. " And it doesn't feel as if it were full of 
 dry bones either." 
 
 Wondering, the girls knelt beside the discov- 
 ery, while Allyn held the lamp above them. It 
 was an oblong iron box, severely plain, and from 
 the padlock which secured it, was suspended a 
 small key. The chain was hooked into a ring in 
 the top, and Billie quickly unfastened it. 
 
 " Let's cover up the well or whatever it is," he 
 said, decisively, " and go up-stairs with this. One 
 mystery at a time is enough." 
 
 " Oh, yes," cried Marjorie, her eyes bright with 
 excitement. " We will take it up into the kitchen." 
 
 With Billie's help Allyn swung the iron cover 
 back in place, and they all followed the princess 
 of Rattletibang up-stairs to see what her treasure 
 box contained. 
 
 It was very heavy. Marjorie set it down on 
 the kitchen table, and promptly inserted the key 
 in the padlock. All at once she paused. 
 
 " Do you think I have any right to open it ? " 
 she asked Allyn, anxiously. 
 
 "No one has a better," he returned, quickly. 
 "No one on earth." 
 
 " Oh, do stop fussing over rights, and open it," 
 Billie protested, aggrievedly, and Marjorie hastily 
 turned the key. It grated in the rusty lock,
 
 The Princess' Treasure 277 
 
 turned, and she lifted the cover. A second box of 
 black tin was revealed, but this only shut with a 
 clasp, and when she had opened it, Marjorie stood 
 speechless before it. 
 
 " Billie ! " she exclaimed, and that was all. The 
 person appealed to leaned over with eyes like glass 
 marbles, and gave a whistle of astonishment 
 
 " The old skinflint ! " he cried, joyously. 
 ""NYho'd have thought it of him? Marjorie, it's 
 gold." 
 
 " All gold," added Allyn, lifting up a few papers 
 from the top. " Twenty dollar gold pieces, and 
 down here a few bills, fifty dollar bills." 
 
 "Eggs in the Rook's Nest," exclaimed Dora, 
 starting in on her regular Feejee dance in the 
 middle of the floor. " Muggins is rich, rich, rich ! 
 Did you ever see such a darling ghost ! " 
 
 Marjorie stood with downcast eyes beside the 
 table, looking at the neat, round piles of dull yel- 
 low that filled the box, and there was a bright red 
 spot on each cheek. She looked from them to the 
 eager faces clustered around, at Billie's homely, 
 mischievous one laughing up at her, at the Owl's 
 wondering eyes, and the Lion's chubby fingers 
 reaching longingly over to play with the pretty 
 pieces, then over at Dora, flushed and dimpled, and 
 finally she met Mr. Keith's steady gaze. 
 
 " Do you suppose it is mine ? " she asked.
 
 278 Rook's Nest 
 
 He clasped the paper he had been glaiiciiig over 
 closer. 
 
 "All yours, princess," he replied, confidently. 
 " It goes with Book's Nest to Marjorie Cherring- 
 ton Bandall. Listen to this." He opened the 
 paper to read aloud the few terse lines it contained, 
 in which old Uncle Cherrington had bequeathed 
 his hidden hoard to the heiress of Book's Nest. 
 
 "To WHOM IT MAY CONCEKN : 
 
 " I, Cherrington Kandall, in full possession of my fac- 
 ulties, and about to depart for Wyoming, do hereby state 
 that the contents of this box represents my entire ready 
 wealth ; the same in case of my death to revert to my niece, 
 Marjorie Cherrington Randall, with the estate on which it 
 is found. May it bring her the happiness denied to me. 
 
 " CHEEEINGTON RANDAI/L." 
 
 "Bully for the old boy! " murmured Billie, ec- 
 statically ; but Marjorie stood up on one of the old 
 kitchen chairs and held out her hands for silence. 
 
 "You dear, darling children of mine," she ex- 
 claimed, joyously. "It's all yours, too, and w r e'll 
 have the most glorious time that ever was, and 
 hunt up Avis, and bring her home, and send Billie 
 to college, and never, never leave our blessed 
 Book's Nest!" 
 
 "Polliwogs!" cried Billie. "March!" 
 
 All four formed in line as they had done on that 
 other memorable day when the council of state 
 was held in the old home, and they marched
 
 The Princess' Treasure 279 
 
 abound the table and chair with a new battle song 
 < u their lips. 
 
 We'll never, never, never, 
 No, we'll never, never, never, 
 Oh, we'll never, never, never, 
 Leave our blessed Book's Nest."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Betty Enters the Arena 
 
 FOR several days the cloud hung over the fourth 
 floor at Madame Penionte's. Betty dared not 
 leave her position, or even neglect it, so she started 
 bravely away from the sick chamber every morn- 
 ing leaving Madame in charge ; for even five dol- 
 lars a week seemed a very desirable possession 
 under stress of present circumstances. 
 
 By the third day the fever was checked, and the 
 cough better, and when Betty came home at night 
 with tired, anxious eyes, she found the patient 
 quiet, and out of danger from pneumonia. 
 
 "If she remain serene," added Madame, cheerily, 
 nodding her white puffs at Avis, with comical 
 severity. " She is to keep most serene, and com- 
 posed, and not to worry, nor to weep, nor go out 
 without the rubbaires." 
 
 "I'll keep her serene," said Betty, vigorously. 
 " If she dares shed a single tear, I'll send for that 
 Rogers boy. I saw him to-day. Now don't get 
 red," waving her hand at the face on the pillow. 
 " I didn't talk with him, or tell him that you were 
 
 280
 
 Betty Enters the Arena 281 
 
 sick, or anything. Just saw him sailing out of the 
 Fine Arts Building about noon. I always eat my 
 ham sandwich and lemon pie, in 2-11 time, so as 
 to have a chance to run around to Michigan 
 Avenue, and say hello to the lions and the lake 
 front. He was walking fast and never even saw 
 this child, but I heard from Miss Ogden that he 
 got the position on the Times-Herald, so he is a 
 rising young artist now and not to be despised. 
 Here's something I found for you down-stairs. 
 The expressman left it for your serene highness." 
 
 Avis' face brightened at sight of the generous 
 sized package. 
 
 "It's the pie," she exclaimed, eagerly, "Mar- 
 jorie's mince pie that she said she'd send." 
 
 " There, there, keep serene," called Betty, warn- 
 ingly, on her way to the little cupboard larder. 
 " Madame and I can manage this trifle very well 
 alone. Of course it's pie, and delicious pie, too ; 
 but invalids mustn't eat rich luxuries, must they, 
 Madame?" 
 
 "Ah, but yes," Madame, thus appealed to, re- 
 turned, warmly, as she saw the longing in Avis' 
 eyes. "But a small piece, Bettee. When it is 
 home pie, it is not pie, it is medicine." 
 
 So the precious pie was unwrapped with much 
 ceremony, and partaken of in respectful admira- 
 tion.
 
 282 Rook's Nest 
 
 "Now, you are not to stir out of this room for 
 a week or more," Betty said, the following morn- 
 ing, when she was laying down the law for Avis' 
 future guidance in the path of health. "I have 
 not written a line to Muggins about your nearly 
 becoming an angel because you went out without 
 your rubbers ; but you've got to behave, now, and 
 not do any crazy thing to upset it all." 
 
 " And Christmas coming next week ? " the inva- 
 lid's tone was most beseeching and a little rebellious, 
 but the oracle only shook her head relentlessly 
 and waved good-bye as she passed on down-stairs. 
 
 So all during the week, Avis remained an un- 
 willing captive in the back room, with Madame in- 
 stalled as a gentle but inexorable warden. So 
 faithful was her care and nursing, however, that 
 by Friday Avis declared herself fully cured, and 
 when Betty came home that night, she found her 
 " clad, and in her right mind," as the former ex- 
 pressed it. Later in the evening, when the two 
 were alone, they held a consultation. 
 
 "You won't be fit to think of working for a 
 couple of weeks yet, at the least," Betty said, de- 
 cidedly, in a tone that brooked no argument. " We 
 have been practically living on Muggins' mince 
 pie and Madame's poached eggs and floating 
 island this whole week, and I have five dollars 
 coming to me to-morrow night. Now, we cannot
 
 Betty Enters the Arena 283 
 
 on five a week, and its a poor, miserable 
 , anyway, for the world to pay such mighty 
 minds as ours. I think I shall give matters a 
 twist," 
 
 " If Miss Ogden would only take my story," be- 
 gan Avis, thoughtfully, but Betty interposed. 
 
 " That's just the place I am going to twist I 
 shall go there to-morrow, and find out all about 
 it Meanwhile, you must write to Muggins and 
 tell her to send on more mince pie. It is very 
 nutritious, I understand, and more filling than 
 Madame's floating island. I don't intend that we 
 shall spend Christmas weeping and wailing and 
 gnashing our teeth, even if we are poor and 
 needy. I don't know what gnashing means, but I 
 al \\ays think it would hurt like sixty, and make a 
 gritty noise like chewing sand. So we won't 
 gnash. I mean that we shall have a good time, 
 and a happy time just you and Madame and I 
 celebrating if I have to spend all my five dollars 
 as a last resort And I'm going to twist every- 
 thing else around our way." 
 
 "But, Betty," protested Avis, "I am strong 
 enough to hunt up something to do " 
 
 Betty threw a pillow with swift, sure aim at the 
 rebeL 
 
 " Lie down and go to sleep," she commanded. 
 " You must keep serene, Madame says. Any one
 
 284 Rook's Nest 
 
 would think I was first mate here instead of cap- 
 tain. Don't you dare to answer back. I shall 
 have Madame sit on the landing outside the door 
 on guard all the time, and if you dare to attempt 
 to escape you shall be padlocked to the bed. I 
 can manage to do all the twisting myself." 
 
 All that Avis could do in the face of such au- 
 thority was to obey, laughingly, and threaten dire 
 possibilities for the morrow. 
 
 A few minutes past twelve the next day, Miss 
 Ogden was surprised to find Betty standing beside 
 her desk. 
 
 " Trouble, trouble, boil and bubble," she began 
 at once. " I want work, Miss Ogden, so don't start 
 in and give advice. My bud of genius, Avis, you 
 remember, is sick, and something must happen 
 right away. We need anything from ten dollars 
 to a gold mine to relieve the pressure on the money 
 market at the present moment." 
 
 Behind the brave, half laughing tone, Miss Og- 
 den caught the undercurrent of real distress, and 
 a quick wave of sympathy swept over her, for she 
 liked Betty cordially. 
 
 " Sit down, girlie, and tell me all about it," she 
 said, and Betty assented gladly. It did seem a 
 great relief to tell it all to some one, all the strug- 
 gle against the wolf, " not one lone decent wolf, 
 but a whole pack," as she said, all about Avis
 
 Betty Enters the Arena 285 
 
 and her ambitions and failure, even about Rook's 
 N * st and the flock it sheltered, and she concluded, 
 with her old common sense : 
 
 " Have you read her story, and can you use it ? " 
 
 Miss Ogden tapped musingly on her desk with 
 the blue pencil which she held, then opened a 
 drawer and took Avis' manuscript from it. 
 
 " It is well written," she said, turning over the 
 pages slowly. " I have read it carefully, and could 
 use it if it was shorter, about 30,000 or 40,000 
 words. You know how it is, Betty, with a monthly 
 magazine. A long serial drags so, and Mr. Newell 
 says he does not wish me to accept any of this 
 length." 
 
 Betty's lips closed firmly, and she considered a 
 moment l>efore answering. 
 
 "AY1 10 is Mr. Newell?" 
 
 "The publisher of the Beauty. Ee arrived 
 this week from the East." 
 
 "Is he right here? Now?" A sudden idea 
 flashed across Betty. 
 
 Miss Ogden nodded her head toward the oak 
 paneled door at the end of the office. 
 
 "Eight in there this minute," she said. "But 
 I'm afraid it is hopeless, dear." 
 
 Betty picked up the manuscript, and there was 
 the light of the war-path in her eyes. 
 
 " I'll talk with him, anyway, " she said, reso-
 
 286 Rook's Nest 
 
 lutely. " It can't do any harm, and it may settle 
 everything all right. If I don't return in half an 
 hour send after the remains. I feel as if I were 
 being thrown to the lions in the arena. Good- 
 bye." 
 
 " Good-bye, and good luck," returned Miss Og- 
 den, smilingly, with her warm, friendly hand clasp, 
 and she watched the erect girlish figure until it 
 vanished beyond the oak paneled door into the 
 "arena." 
 
 A very modern, bloodless arena it looked at first 
 glance, the light, well furnished private office of 
 the publisher of the American Beauty. Betty had 
 been in it before when she was working on the 
 magazine, but this time, all she saw was the gen- 
 tleman seated at the broad, flat-topped, mahogany 
 desk in the centre of the room, absorbed in the 
 perusal of the pile of letters and documents before 
 him. He glanced at her questioningly over the 
 rims of his eye-glasses, as she hesitated a moment 
 at the door, and Betty threw down the gauntlet at 
 once. 
 
 "I am Betty Morgan," she said, quickly, cross- 
 ing to the desk and laying the manuscript upon 
 it. " I used to be Miss Ogden's assistant. When 
 we used the syndicate service I was editor. I 
 want to see you, Mr. Newell, please, about this 
 story, ' Lorraine's Legacy.' "
 
 Betty Enters the Arena 287 
 
 Mr. Newell drew the manuscript toward him, 
 and looked at the title page. When he turned 
 again to Betty, after a minute's silence, there was 
 a new interest in his manner. 
 
 " Be seated, please, Miss Morgan," he said, with 
 grave courtesy. "Do you know the author per- 
 sonally?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, very, very well." The flood gates of 
 Betty's sympathetic enthusiasm threatened to over- 
 flow at any moment, but she felt that she must 
 preserve her dignity at all hazards, if the interview 
 was to be a success. " Miss Randall is my friend. 
 In fact, we are room mates. She has been very 
 ill, and and," she floundered helplessly, try- 
 ing to find the proper, business-like terms she 
 wanted ; but it was no use, and finally, she raised 
 her head in desperation and charged on the enemy. 
 Before she had time to regret her impulse, or re- 
 call her words, she had told Avis' story with the 
 same unvarnished frankness that she had used to 
 Miss Ogden. Mr. Newell listened in silence, his 
 elbows on the arm of his easy chair, his finger tips 
 ] tressed closely together. 
 
 " So you see that something must happen, and 
 happen right now," concluded Betty, with a sigh 
 of relief when the full burden of confession was off 
 her shoulders. " Miss Ogden says she could use 
 the story, only that you think it is too long. But
 
 288 Rook's Nest 
 
 it would not hurt it to be cut, and Avis would not 
 care, as long as it was accepted. And and oh, 
 Mr. Newell, don't you think, just for once, you 
 could break the new rule, and pay on acceptation? 
 If I could take the check back to her to-day " 
 She paused. Such a possibility was too much to 
 contemplate, or discuss, and still remain, as Ma- 
 dame would have said, serene. There was a sus- 
 picious brightness about her eyes, and something 
 fell on the smooth, shiny surface of the desk, 
 something that left a round, moist mark there. 
 Her lashes were downcast, her hands clasped 
 closely in her lap. She felt that the last shot was 
 spent, and if the enemy's citadel yet held out, all 
 hope was lost. 
 
 The silence was growing ominous, when finally 
 Mr. Newell rose and glanced at his watch. 
 
 " It is nearly one o'clock," he said, slowly. " TVe 
 have not much time. I intend leaving Chicago on 
 the 5:10 express to spend Christmas with friends. 
 Do you think you could persuade Avis to accom- 
 pany me, Miss Morgan ? " He met Betty's look 
 of astonishment with a gleam of quiet amusement 
 in his grey eyes, and added, "I am going to 
 Book's Nest." 
 
 Betty sat very still. She looked from Mr. 
 Newell to the window to see if the world were just 
 the same as it had been a moment before, or
 
 Betty Enters the Arena 289 
 
 whether it had suddenly taken a notion to turn 
 topsyturvy. But it was just the same old, smoky 
 world, and she looked back at Mr. Newell, a puz- 
 zled frown contracting her straight, dark eye- 
 brows. 
 
 " But I don't see how on earth you can be going 
 there," she began, vaguely. "It's a worse twist 
 up now than it was before. What will Avis say ? " 
 
 Mr. Newell smiled. He had long ago heard 
 from Billie of her royal highness's eccentricities, 
 especially where the Newells were concerned. 
 
 " I think the sooner we find that out, the bet- 
 ter," he replied. "We will go to her at once. 
 Just a moment, please, Miss Morgan." 
 
 He left the room, and Betty stared at the blue 
 blotter on the desk as though such a remarkable 
 curiosity had never come under her observation 
 before. Newell ? Where had she ever heard that 
 name? Why, from Avis, of course, Avis herself, 
 and she looked down at the manuscript. There 
 it was in plain sight on the title page, Avis Newell 
 Randall. She had forgotten the middle name al- 
 together. Then Mr. Newell must be some rela- 
 tive. She knew the owner of the American Beauty 
 must be wealthy* and her heart gave a quick, glad 
 throb as she thought of the fourth floor back 
 room, and of the ambitions and hopes that were 
 struggling for existence there.
 
 290 Rook's Nest 
 
 Mr. Newell reentered the room, and her lofty 
 surmises took flight like a flock of frightened 
 birds. He held a slip of paper in his hand, and 
 handed it to her with a smile. 
 
 " I thought probably Avis' return home to the 
 Nest would be happier if she were sure of this," 
 he said. " The carriage is waiting for us now." 
 
 Betty's eyes were so dim as she looked at the 
 magic figures on the generous check, that she did 
 not even seen Miss Ogden's friendly smile in her 
 direction, as they passed through the outer office. 
 All that she could think of was Avis waiting, and 
 of the great joy which this Christmas held for her 
 after all the bitter trials and disappointments of 
 the past two months.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 Red Rover to the Rescue 
 
 THE December sunshine filled the fourth floor 
 back room with golden brightness, finding its way 
 even through the dusty windows, and lingering 
 lovingly on Avis' fair hair as she sat at her old 
 place beside the little rickety table, and chewed 
 the end of her pencil to chips. 
 
 It was ten o'clock. Betty had been gone over 
 two hours, and Madame was down-stairs attending 
 to her morning duties. Avis was thinking over 
 the talk of the previous night with troubled feel- 
 ings. She could not bear that Betty, generous, 
 and loving as she was, should shoulder the burden 
 of their support any more. She was so well and 
 strong to-day, and it was such a glorious day, all 
 sunlight and Christmas promise. She looked 
 again at the open door, and laid down her pencil 
 resolutely. 
 
 Madame was very busy, and no sound reached 
 her of the light footstep on the stairs, or the closing 
 of the front door, so it happened that the invalid 
 found herself on the street, safe from solicitous 
 
 291
 
 292 Rook's Nest 
 
 pursuit. It was so good to be well and free once 
 more. Her one brief week of exile had seemed so 
 long and tedious until now even the walk to the 
 city was a treat, and she hurried on, so full of new 
 plans that she did not stop at her favorite spot on 
 the bridge, to catch a glimpse of the river, but went 
 straight on to the heart of the city. She would 
 try each of the newspaper offices and magazines 
 where she had left short stories, she decided. Out 
 of so many, surely some must have proven accep- 
 table. Not a cent did she have with her, for every 
 one had been garnered in with Betty's meagre store, 
 in order to buy medicine, but she laughed to her- 
 self as she turned into the Tribune building as the 
 first port of good promise, and thought of the pos- 
 sible riches that might be awaiting her. 
 
 She went direct to the Sunday editor's room. 
 He was very pleasant. As ho handed her a long 
 envelope containing her story, with a few courteous 
 words of regret, Avis wondered how he had time 
 to be so pleasant over so hopeless a case, and she 
 went back to the elevator with an odd, crushed 
 feeling. 
 
 It was the same story over and over again. The 
 long envelope, the declined story, the few words of 
 regret. The only thing which varied was the de- 
 gree of pleasantness in the editor's manner. When 
 she had collected all of the rejected manuscripts,
 
 Red Rover to the Rescue 293 
 
 she went over to the Public Library, and took ref- 
 uge in one of Betty's favorite odd corners, the 
 Roman seat on the first floor under the shadow of 
 the arching stairway. She was very tired and 
 lonely and heartsick. Moreover, but this was an 
 incidental misfortune to which she was becoming 
 accustomed, she was hungry. As Betty said, mince 
 pie and floating island had been their staff of life 
 for several days, with occasional diversions in the 
 way of eggs, poached and otherwise. That morn- 
 ing there had been very little on the table stand- 
 ing beside the bed, and Avis had feigned caprice 
 of appetite, that the bread winner might have 
 plenty. But now that her bold onslaught upon 
 the world had proven such a disastrous failure, she 
 felt cold and faint 
 
 Back and forth people hastened, but it was dusk 
 in the corner at the side of the stairs, and no one 
 noticed the slender figure sitting there, or the tears 
 that fell on the long yellow envelopes. It was 
 late in the afternoon, and every one was hurrying. 
 Avis noticed how many wore tiny sprigs of holly 
 in their buttonholes, and when a boy who looked 
 like Billie passed the corner, whistling a fragment 
 of a carol, she remembered all at once that it was 
 Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve ! She thought of 
 the light, and warmth, and good cheer at Rook's 
 Nest, of Muggins, and her little band of loving fol-
 
 294 Rook's Nest 
 
 lowers, and of the feasting and merrymaking there 
 would be, with Billie installed as king of the rev- 
 els. The great electric globes around her flashed 
 into sudden light and beauty. Betty and she had 
 always loved these special ones that looked like 
 colossal moonstones or opals, but now they only 
 served to betray the secret of her hidden wailing 
 place, and she rose to go. 
 
 The swinging outer doors were hard to open, 
 and her eyes were so blurred that she could hardly 
 see her way. Suddenly one of them was pushed 
 inward from the outside and swung heavily toward 
 her. She would have fallen but for some one's 
 ready arm, some one tall, and dark, humming a 
 song under his breath. 
 
 " I'm so sorry," he began, raising his cap, and 
 opening the door for her. " Are you hurt ? " 
 
 Avis recognized the voice in a moment, but she 
 would not stop. Not for anything would she have 
 Bob Rogers find her in the time of utter defeat, so 
 she only shook her head, and attempted to pass 
 by him. But something familiar in the contour of 
 her figure caught Bob's attention, and he laid his 
 hand on her arm. 
 
 " Avis," he said, " Avis, don't you know me ? 
 It's Bob. Wait a minute. I must see you." 
 
 She paused outside, and he joined her. The 
 snow was falling and Avis had a sudden inclina-
 
 Red Rover to the Rescue 295 
 
 tion to laugh as she remembered Madame 1 s strict 
 injunctions to keep serene, and to wear her " rub- 
 baires." 
 
 " Why wouldn't you wait ? " asked Kob, when 
 tin y started to walk toward State Street "I have 
 been wanting to see you so that I could carry a 
 message to Marjorie and the resi I'm going 
 home to-night to spend Christmas. Are you ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 He caught the smothered sob that accompanied 
 the word, and bent forward to look at her face. 
 It was white, and tear-stained. 
 
 " Avis," he exclaimed, " you're crying." 
 
 There was no response. 
 
 " How white you are ! " 
 
 "I have been ill," she said, making a brave 
 effort to conceal from him how faint and tired she 
 was. 
 
 Rob thought deeply for a minute. He had met 
 Betty once or twice at the library and remembered 
 some of her frank admissions as to the financial 
 state of affairs in the partnership of Morgan & 
 Randall, " Ambitionists," as she had added. He 
 knew also of the change in the editorial staff on 
 the magazine, and so drew his own conclusions. 
 
 " I just came from the office," he said, " and was 
 going to have a quiet little read all by myself in 
 the library among the new magazines. But I'm
 
 296 Rook's Nest 
 
 hungry as a wolf, and we'll go and have a feast of 
 reason somewhere, and talk the case over. I know 
 you ought to have soup or something like that 
 when it's so cold, and you've been sick. Marjorie or 
 mother would make you take it, so I'm going to." 
 
 " No, no I wont " Avis began, rebelliously, 
 with a touch of her old, quick pride ; but Eob 
 only laughed, and, taking her resolutely by the 
 arm, hurried her along, stopping only at a corner 
 stand to buy a great, loose cluster of pink roses. 
 
 " It's Merry Christmas," he said, placing them 
 in her unwilling hands. " No fair being cross at 
 Christmas. You must forgive all old scores and 
 be friends, because we're just a couple of home- 
 sick waifs to-night. How dark the falling snow 
 makes it. It is only half-past three. Doesn't all 
 the holly and evergreen and snow and everything 
 make you want to run and shout like sixty ? It 
 does me. I'd like to be right up yonder on the 
 top of the Masonic Temple with a megaphone, or 
 some kind of a 'phone, and yell 'Merry Christ- 
 mas ' down at the whole crowd. Marjorie would 
 be awfully glad to see you." 
 
 The last came so suddenly that Avis caught her 
 breath, but he did not give her time to reply, for 
 they had reached the restaurant and he hurried 
 her into its bright, warm entrance. 
 
 " I don't usually come here," he explained, with
 
 Red Rover to the Rescue 297 
 
 boyish honesty, when they were seated. " Only 
 Christmas and birthdays. Had one birthday here 
 all by myself the first month I came. I was so 
 blue and homesick I told the waiter it was my 
 birthday, and gave him a dime to wish me many 
 happy returns, but he didn't. This is my first 
 Christmas. What shall we eat ? " 
 
 Avis leaned back in her chair, watching the re- 
 flections in the mirrored walls. She tried to feel 
 indignant, and reserved, but it was a hard task 
 when one was cold and hungry, and had been sud- 
 denly whisked into this fairy-land of good promise, 
 so she only answered : 
 
 " You order anything, please. I am so tired I 
 don't care." 
 
 So Bed Rover ordered, and it was a feast of 
 plenty, and he laughed and talked more than ever 
 so that no suspicion should lurk in Avis' mind 
 that he thought her really hungry, for he knew 
 the pride of her royal highness. Finally when all 
 was finished, he looked at her critically. The 
 tired look was gone from her eyes, and her cheeks 
 had a faint flush on them that was like a reflection 
 from the roses in her hand. 
 
 " Now you look like yourself, and not like a stiff- 
 necked ghost," he said, approvingly. "Do you 
 know what is going to happen now ? " 
 
 She shook her head, and smiled. It was such
 
 298 Rook's Nest 
 
 a delightful novelty to be told what she must do, 
 after she had made a failure of her own way so long. 
 
 "Well, then," continued Red Hover, decidedly, 
 " your royal highness is going back to Book's Nest 
 with me on the 5:10 express, and you haven't a 
 moment to lose." 
 
 " I wouldn't do it for anything." In an instant 
 Avis was her old self, fighting against that Rogers' 
 boy. Go home, indeed, defeated and heartsick, 
 without a single trophy won, while all the children 
 blew trumpets of Red Rover's fame in her ears ! 
 Not for the world would she do so, not even for a 
 sight of the dear faces, and the touch of Marjorie's 
 hand. She rose from the table. 
 
 " It is late," she said. " Betty will be expect- 
 ing me." 
 
 Rob was silent until they reached the street. 
 He wished with all his heart that Billie was there 
 to manage the " stiff-necked damsel." He could 
 see that Avis was worn out and disheartened and 
 half sick now, and how Marjorie would love to pet 
 her, and nurse her back to strength and content- 
 ment. But all schemes faded from his mind as he 
 glanced at their object, walking on quickly, her 
 head erect, her air resolute and defiant. 
 
 "Are you going to take the car?" Rob asked, 
 mildly, as a friendly overture. 
 
 "No. I like to walk," came the unequivocal
 
 'HER HEAD ERECT, HER AIR RESOLUTE AND DEFIANT"
 
 Red Rover to the Rescue 299 
 
 answer. It would never do, she thought, to let 
 him know she did not own a nickel in the world. 
 
 A fragment of Billie's advice concerning treat- 
 ment for Avis under such circumstances occurred 
 to Rob. 
 
 " If she's just huffy, rush her, and take her by 
 surprise. If she's hopping mad, don't notice her. 
 Do as you please, and it will come out all right. 
 She is a rebellious and unruly people, saith the 
 prophet." 
 
 A North State Street car was waiting at the 
 Luke Street terminus, and Bob made up his mind 
 at once. 
 
 " It's too cold to walk," he said, briskly, and be- 
 fore Avis could gasp a remonstrance, she was on 
 the car, speeding northward. Rob laughed at her 
 expression of suppressed indignation. 
 
 " We haven't much time to lose before 5:10," he 
 said. " This will save ten minutes, anyway." 
 
 " But I won't go," she began, vehemently. Then 
 all at once the great homesickness swept over her, 
 and she forgot her grievance of the moment, as 
 she added helplessly, " Don't you suppose I would 
 go if I could ? Don't you suppose that I want to 
 see them all so badly that I can hardly stand it ? 
 But I won't go back till I have something to show 
 for my coming. I won't go back like a bad penny. 
 You may tell Marjorie that if you wish,"
 
 300 Rook's Nest 
 
 Bob was silent, but doing a lot of thinking in 
 his own way. 
 
 " Isn't there any way out of it at all ? " he asked 
 at last, when they left the car at Huron Street and 
 hurried over to Madame Penionte's. 
 
 A sudden hope brightened Avis' face. There 
 was a carriage standing in front of the house with 
 the low French doorway, but she scarcely noticed 
 it. 
 
 " There would be a way," she said, as they en- 
 tered the vestibule. " If Betty should happen to 
 have a check for a hundred dollars for me." 
 
 " Is it a joke ? " he asked. Hob's face was very 
 serious. He had stepped into the little reception 
 room at the side of the hall to wait for her, when 
 all at once the portieres at the far end of the room 
 were parted and Madame swept down on Avis like 
 a hen on a runaway chick. 
 
 " Oh, ma petite, but it is Bettee who is era-zee ! " 
 she cried, folding Avis in a close embrace. " She 
 has seen you dead, crushed, fainted, brought home 
 in very small pieces. And you did forget ze rub- 
 baires." 
 
 The last was a wail of reproach, but Betty's 
 voice called over the banisters : 
 
 " Come up here this minute, Avis Newell Ran- 
 dall. I wish you merry Christmas even if you do 
 die of a relapse next week. Don't stop to argue
 
 Red Rover to the Rescue 301 
 
 or talk, but come up. I've got something for 
 you." 
 
 Avis hesitated. 
 
 " Rob is with me," she returned, doubtfully, and 
 Betty laughed. 
 
 "Hurrah! He was the only domino missing 
 to make the set Come on, and bring him, too ! " 
 
 Madame nodded her head mysteriously. 
 
 " It is quite true," she said. " It is one grand 
 surprise she has. Oh, but so tall, so splendid he 
 is. And ze coupe. Bettee came home in a 
 coupe." 
 
 " She must have the check," Avis said, turning 
 to Rob with a tremulous, uncertain smile. " Let's 
 all go up." 
 
 At the top of the stairs stood Betty, radiant, 
 with a perfect halo of happiness around her joy- 
 ous face. 
 
 "Avis, Avis," she exclaimed, as she met the 
 runaway with outstretched hands. "The most 
 wonderful fairy tale in the world has come true, 
 and we're all going to Muggins and the Nest" 
 
 " How much ? " asked Avis, breathlessly, think- 
 ing only of the possible check ; but suddenly she 
 saw the stranger who stood in the centre of the 
 back room, and she paused on the threshold, tired, 
 and astonished. It was Betty who managed the 
 introduction with her usual happy felicity.
 
 302 Rook's Nest 
 
 " This is Avis," she said, the words fairly tum- 
 bling over each other in her eagerness to tell 
 everything at once. " And Rob, Bob Rogers, you 
 know. Avis Randall, look at that check. The 
 budding genius has budded and blossomed at last. 
 And this is Mr. Newell, Uncle Harvey, your own 
 Uncle Harvey, and he owns the whole magazine, 
 and I'm never going to work any more, and we're 
 all going to Rook's Nest right now ! Oh, dear, 
 Madame, so many things have happened all in a 
 bunch that I think I am turning into a whirligig. 
 Avis, please don't look pale like that." 
 
 Avis seated herself on the edge of the worn 
 lounge, and tried to smile. 
 
 " I feel pale," she said, unsteadily. " It is all 
 so mixed up. Where is Aunt Bethiah Newell ? " 
 
 "Dead," returned Betty, solemnly, forestalling 
 Mr. Newell's explanation. "I am the only 
 Bethiah Newell, now. How much time have I, 
 father?" 
 
 Mr. Newell glanced at his watch. 
 
 "Just fifteen minutes to talk, girlie," he an- 
 swered, while Rob and Avis looked at each other 
 in amazement. " Tell it quickly." 
 
 " Well, then, listen, folkses," Betty stood up on 
 the chair at the end of the room, where Avis us- 
 ually sat to work and write, and began, impres- 
 sively, her brown eyes shining with excitement.
 
 Red Rover to the Rescue 303 
 
 " First of all, Uncle Harvey is the Avmt Bethiah 
 whom Avis has worried over, and never told me a 
 word about all this time. Second, Uncle Harvey 
 is Mr. Newell, publisher of the American 23e<i>if>/, 
 and other things. Third, Uncle Harvey " she 
 paused, and looked around proudly, " is Bethiah 
 Newell's father, and I am Bethiah Newell, and 
 that's what we two have found out this afternoon." 
 
 " But how ? " asked Rob. Avis was silent from 
 sheer astonishment. Betty pointed to the picture 
 of her mother in the bronze frame. 
 
 " We came for Avis, but found her gone," she 
 answered. " Then father saw that, and nearly had 
 a fit" 
 
 "O, Bettee," interposed Madame, in despair. 
 " Not a fit He lose the tr-ranquility." 
 
 " Well, I should say he did, rather," laughed 
 Betty, gaily. " And so will Aunt Felicia lose the 
 tranquility when I write and tell her that I've 
 found my own dear father, and that I've got a 
 name at last Avis, I'm your own, ownliest 
 cousin, and cousin to Muggins and the whole 
 menagerie and Billie. Don't you understand it 
 all?" 
 
 " Oh, Betty, Tin so glad for you ! " Betty's 
 arms were around her new cousin, and Avis' blue 
 eyes had lost their tired look as she returned her 
 smile. "What will they all say at the Nest? "
 
 304 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Time's up," called Mr. Newell. " Eobert, boy, 
 you and I will go down-stairs and wait for these 
 two excited young persons to follow. Only two 
 minutes allowed for taking leave, daughter." 
 
 The door closed, and Betty sat down on the top 
 of the table with a raptuous sigh. 
 
 " Avis Randall," she said, impressively. " Just 
 think after being nobody for over nineteen years, 
 all at once to wake up, and find out you're some- 
 body, and somebody special at that." 
 
 But Madame waved sentiment aside, and checked 
 the flood of words. 
 
 " Two minutes," she cried, rushing to Avis with 
 her neglected rubbers. " It is not to talk, Bettee. 
 It is to act ze rapid. Ze coupe waits. Avie, put 
 on your rubbaires. So. Leave everything as it 
 is ; I will keep it all most secluded, and send ze 
 trunks to you. Ah, Bettee, so shabby ze jacket 
 and ze gloves to ride in a coupe. You shall 
 have my white gloves. They are so much ze 
 genteeL" 
 
 " I won't have anything of the sort," exclaimed 
 Betty, indignantly. " The idea of such a thing ! 
 Your white gloves, indeed ! Never you mind, you 
 dear. I'll come back civilized and genteel, and 
 never, never forget you, you old darling, or your 
 delicious floating islands." 
 
 She seized the old French lady in her strong,
 
 Red Rover to the Rescue 305 
 
 young arms, and gave her a royal squeeze that 
 left both of them breathless. 
 
 " I've got the satchel, Avis," she added. " Packed 
 it this afternoon while we were waiting for you. 
 And that's all" 
 
 The two girls stood side by side in the old, 
 shabby room, and looked around for the last time, 
 while Madame smiled at them through fast falling 
 tears. The room was dim, and they could see 
 the snow coming down heavily beyond the dusty 
 lace curtains. 
 
 "Bless it," said Betty, softly. "It has been 
 our castle, Avis. Seems as if we were deserting 
 an old friend, doesn't it ? " 
 
 "Go, go at once," protested Madame, plain- 
 tively. " Or it will be ze grand weep." 
 
 It came very near being a grand weep before all 
 were safely settled in the carriage, waving good- 
 bye to the stately figure standing alone in the low, 
 French doorway, with the dusk and falling snow 
 around her. 
 
 " Isn't it glorious, Avis ! " exclaimed Betty, lay- 
 ing one cheek lovingly against Mr. Newell's coat 
 sleeve. " Isn't it glorious to belong to people of 
 your very own, and leave all the world behind to 
 fight, and worry on in its old, bothersome, twisted 
 up way ? " 
 
 Her royal highness only smiled back happily,
 
 306 Rook's Nest 
 
 her head leaning on the soft cushions. She was 
 tired, so very tired now that it was over. It all 
 seemed like some marvelous dream, but one thing 
 was in her thoughts clearly all the time. She did 
 hope Marjorie would be at the little front window 
 watching the road to the ravine.
 
 CHAPTER XXH 
 The Birds Fly Home 
 
 " IT'S snowing like all get out," Billie announced, 
 as he came stamping into the kitchen from the 
 wood-shed, his arms full of split logs for the fire. 
 " Won't the old boy have a great time coming 
 from the station, though ! Wish I knew what 
 train he will take. I'd hitch up Mr. Rogers' team, 
 and drive over for him." 
 
 "He won't get any thupper," murmured the 
 Lion, wisely, as he followed Marjorie back and 
 forth from the table to the pantry with a suspi- 
 cious faithfulness. " Thcreth going to be jelly, and 
 cake, and pie, and whole pileth of thingth, Billie." 
 
 " And Dora knows where there're just piles of 
 popcorn, and nuts, and candy, and she won't tell," 
 put in Winnie, aggrievedly, from her perch on top 
 of the wood-box behind the stove, where she was 
 toasting herself. 
 
 "I wish candy and doughnutth gwowed on 
 twees like nutth, don't you, Winnie," whispered 
 the Lion, but Billie shook his head at them 
 
 severely. 
 
 307
 
 308 Rook's Nest 
 
 " Dora's been snooking round," he said. " Get 
 off that wood-box immediately, or else there'll be 
 a buried Owl under a cord of logs." 
 
 " Oh, dear, dear," laughed Marjorie, waving 
 both hands for order, as Winnie sent up a howl 
 for mercy. " Such a menagerie ! Billie, behave. 
 Winnie wee, please get a broom, and have Dora 
 help you sweep a nice, clean walk to the gate be- 
 fore any one comes. And don't any one dare to 
 look into the sitting-room." 
 
 " I stuffed the keyhole," said Billie, confidently. 
 "Say, Muggins," he added, as soon as the men- 
 agerie had fled, and he leaned over the table mys- 
 teriously. "Bet a cookie Bob comes home, don't 
 you?" 
 
 Marjorie set the milk pitcher down in the middle 
 of the table with a hard bump that nearly upset 
 its creamy contents. 
 
 " Now, don't shut your mouth all up screwy and 
 tight," Billie went on, hurriedly. " I know what 
 you're thinking about, and I wish she were here, 
 too, of course, but as long as she isn't, don't let's 
 all act as if we were chewing tacks with red pepper 
 on them. It's Christmas all the same." 
 
 Marjorie did not reply, but went on preparing 
 supper steadily, her eyes bright and tearless. 
 Billie stood over by the window, his hands deep 
 in his pockets, his feet wide apart, whistling with
 
 The Birds Fly Home 309 
 
 a doleful attempt at cheerfulness. Each was 
 thinking of her royal highness in their own way, 
 Marjorie with the old, tender love, and longing for 
 " the one who looked like mother ; " Billie with 
 half resentful curiosity, wondering as he always 
 did, why on earth Avis couldn't be sensible like 
 other folks, and not be forever cutting up some 
 dignified didoes, as he expressed it when he and 
 the Lamb held solemn counsel. 
 
 All at once there came a riotous shout of wel- 
 come from the front yard, and the menagerie 
 rushed into the entry, escorting Mrs. Rogers and 
 Allyn Keith. 
 
 " Land alive, but it's coming down," laughed the 
 former, shaking the big soft flakes from her pink 
 crocheted fascinator that had been one of the 
 Lamb's creations of artistic beauty. "Mother 
 Hulda's shaking up the feather beds to-night, 
 isn't she, chickens ? " 
 
 Here Billie smuggled various bundles from 
 their hiding-place beneath her shawl, and made a 
 stealthy rush for the front room with the girls and 
 Reggie in full cry at his heels. 
 
 "Isn't it heart cheering to hear them when 
 they're so happy, though ? " said Mrs. Rogers, 
 with a sigh of content " Did your pies come out 
 all right, dear?" 
 
 " Lovely," replied Marjorie, raising one on her
 
 310 Rook's Nest 
 
 palm to show its beauties. '' All flaky and brown 
 edged." 
 
 Suddenly Dora popped her head in at the door. 
 
 "Where's Mr. Rogers?" she asked, abruptly. 
 
 " Maybe he won't be over, dear," returned Mrs. 
 Rogers, a twinkle in her kind, grey eyes, as she 
 tied on an apron to help Marjorie with the supper. 
 "It's right cold and snowy, you know, and he 
 wants to bed the stock well, and he's got a touch 
 of rheumatism, too, and it's getting down to 
 zero." 
 
 " Oh, dear, we want him so," began Dora, dis- 
 consolately. " Is Bob coming home ? " 
 
 Here a real shadow fell on Mrs. Rogers' bright, 
 happy face. 
 
 " I don't know, Dora," she replied, in a troubled 
 tone. "He hasn't written for nearly a week. 
 Christmas won't seem Christmas without Rob, but 
 we must learn not to worry over our waifs, mustn't 
 we, Marjorie ? " 
 
 Marjorie nodded. She could not trust herself 
 to speak with the tears so perilously near her eyes, 
 so she only smiled and went to the door to call the 
 menagerie to supper. They came trooping in 
 after Billie, all mournful and indignant. 
 
 " It's drefful," said the Owl, as soon as all were 
 seated at the table. " We're only half a family. 
 We're only got Mr. Keith for company, and Mrs.
 
 The Birds Fly Home 311 
 
 for extra. And there's Rob, and Mr. 
 lii >giT8, and Avis " 
 
 Billie tried to kick her foot warningly, but 
 missed it, and nearly knocked the centre leaf out 
 of the table. After the excitement over the averted 
 catastrophe had subsided, Winnie went on serenely : 
 
 " And Avis. They're all away. And it's per- 
 f.vtly dreffuL" 
 
 " Drefful," echoed the Lion, hesitating between 
 an offer of peaeh preserves and strawberry jam. 
 
 " Take which you like best, Reggie," counseled 
 ])<>r;i, but he shook his head wistfully. 
 
 " Bofe are betht," he said, sadly. 
 
 Up at the head of the table sat Marjorie and 
 Allyn. 
 
 " Have you told Mr. Newell about finding your 
 uncle's legacy yet ? " the latter asked, and Marjorie 
 looked serious over the question. 
 
 " Why, no, I haven't," she answered, quickly. 
 "You see, we expected that he would stay in 
 Chicago only one week, and I thought I could tell 
 him when he came home. I wrote to Mr. Ellis all 
 about it, you know, to see if it were right for me 
 to keep it, and he settled everything for me. The 
 money is in the bank at East Elmore. I want to 
 send Billie to college, and look out for all of them 
 now. Of course Uncle Harvey has been very kind, 
 but I shall be glad to be independent of his help.
 
 312 Rook's Nest 
 
 One always feels that way, you know. And I love 
 my old Book's Nest so well, now, that I wouldn't 
 care to leave it for anything." 
 
 " Not even for Boston, and a brown stone front 
 with Uncle Harvey ? " called Billie, from his end 
 of the table. 
 
 "Not for seventeen and a half brown stone 
 fronts," laughed Marjorie, and the menagerie, un- 
 der Billie's leadership, once more proclaimed in 
 stentorian tones to the world at large that Princess 
 Muggins was the best and only brick, and that 
 they would never, never, never leave Hook's Nest. 
 
 All at once Dora jumped up from her chair, and 
 ran to the door. 
 
 " I hear something out there," she exclaimed in 
 an excited whisper. The Lion at once slid under 
 the table, and selected Marjorie's skirts as a place 
 of refuge. Everybody listened. The front door 
 opened stealthily, and in the darkness a strange 
 looking figure could be seen going into the sitting- 
 room. Then came a great stamping and jingling 
 of sleigh bells behind the closed doors, and Win- 
 nie climbed up on the back of her chair, her blue 
 eyes wide and startled at this sudden demonstra- 
 tion. The old clock on the mantel struck eight 
 with its slow, creaking chime. 
 
 "It's himself," whispered Billie, pointing a 
 warning finger at the Owl, " and Winnie 11 get a
 
 The Birds Fly Home 313 
 
 turkey feather, and Dora '11 get a chestnut burr, 
 and Reggie a snowstar." 
 
 There was a howl of indignant dissent at once, 
 and Dora proposed a hidden ambush in the hall- 
 \vay, so that they might all take a look at Santa 
 Claus when he emerged from the sitting-room. 
 They tiptoed softly down the entry, and snuggled 
 into a corner, a silent, expectant group. Strange 
 sounds could be heard from the sitting-room, and 
 the Owl kept one arm firmly around Reggie, whose 
 valor and discretion were always doubtful in mo- 
 ments of danger. At the far end of the hall, Mar- 
 jorie and the rest watched the ambush with merry 
 faces. 
 
 Suddenly the sleigh bells jingled again, and 
 heavy footsteps came toward the door. 
 
 " All ready, polliwogs," whispered Billie, and as 
 the sitting-room door opened there appeared a 
 round, roly poly form, with a great fur coat and 
 cap on that nearly hid all of him except two 
 twinkling eyes, and a long white beard. 
 
 For an instant the beard startled the menagerie, 
 but Dora saw the eyes, and led the onslaught with 
 a shout of triumph. After a wild and thrilling 
 battle, the enemy was vanquished, and led back 
 into the sitting-room, his fur cap gone, his white 
 beard trailing under the Owl's arm, and the Lion 
 perched high on his shoulder.
 
 3H Rook's Nest 
 
 " We knew you all the time, Mr. Rogers," cried 
 the Lamb, dancing first on one foot, then on the 
 other. "Leastways, anyhow," she corrected her- 
 self, " we 'spected. How's your rheumatism ? " 
 
 " Everybody behave, and treat Santa Glaus re- 
 spectfully," called Marjorie, restoring the white 
 beard to its owner. " At infinite expense of time 
 and labor he has made his way to Rook's Nest to- 
 night, and will bestow gifts on all deserving of his 
 love. Please step right to the tree, sir, and do 
 whatever you think best." 
 
 In the center of the floor was the tree that had 
 been brought from the woods, but such a trans- 
 formed tree ! Its boughs were twined with fes- 
 toons of popcorns, with tiny pink and blue bags 
 of candy dangling from the ends, and colored can- 
 dles gleaming prettily here and there. Best of all, 
 any number of mysterious packages, all shapes, sizes 
 and conditions, were suspended from the branches, 
 or heaped high around the box. 
 
 "Sit down, folkses," ordered Billie, as self-in- 
 stalled master of ceremonies. "Reggie, get out 
 from under the tree. Candles are not sticks of 
 peppermint, my child. Mrs. Rogers is to have the 
 big chair. The Owl may perch on the sofa. Dora, 
 you sit down here." 
 
 "I won't," said the Lamb, blandly, from her 
 point of vantage on top of the center table. " I
 
 The Birds Fly Home 315 
 
 shall stay right here, brother William. I can see 
 more. You just want this seat your own self. 
 I ,' < >k out for Marjorie." 
 
 " Oh, go ahead," said Marjorie, who had seated 
 In i-st If ;it tho window looking toward the ravine. 
 "Don't mind me." 
 
 " Are you meditating or moping ? " asked Billie, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Meditating," she answered, laughingly, where- 
 upon Billie decided to leave her in peace, as the 
 menagerie fully occupied his time, so he told Santa 
 Glaus to fire ahead. 
 
 While the happy cries and merry little shrieks 
 of surprise sounded back of her, Marjorie bent for- 
 ward in the dim shelter of the curtains, and 
 watched the road which passed by the little house, 
 traveling on in a happy go lucky, zigzag way, un- 
 til it tumbled over the hillside into the dark depths 
 of the ravine. Her eyes were sad and thoughtful. 
 The burden of the last few months had not lain 
 lightly on her shoulders, although she had tried 
 with nil her heart to be her own bright, hopeful 
 self ; but to-night she felt more than ever how the 
 jolly careless ways of Billie and the menagerie had 
 deserted her, and how she longed for the compan- 
 ionship and sympathy of Avis, not the new Avis, 
 but the old one, as she had been before the com- 
 ing of " Aunt Bethiah,"
 
 316 Rook's Nest 
 
 She wondered where her royal highness was to- 
 night. Probably she and Betty had been invited 
 to some literary affair what was it they called 
 them? Oh, yes. Soirees, that was it. They 
 must have gone to some beautiful, Christmas Eve 
 soiree, where they would meet all manner of fa- 
 mous people. 
 
 What would Avis wear ? She leaned her head 
 on her hands, and pondered, while the voices be- 
 hind her grew fainter and fainter. That grey 
 dress must be getting shabby by this time. Per- 
 haps she had a new dress. Something dainty and 
 rich, just for state occasions such as this. Mar- 
 jorie could shut her eyes and almost see her as 
 she entered the brilliantly illuminated apartment, 
 and how all the famous people would ask each 
 other who this new celebrity could be, this won- 
 derful young creature who moved and acted like a 
 princess. 
 
 It was delightful to dream of. Even the Owl 
 herself could not have imagined a fairer dream. 
 She forgot all about the children and the tree, and 
 the snow and darkness outside seemed to melt 
 away into the gaiety and brightness of the city far 
 away, the wonderful city that was to crown Avis 
 with the laurels of fame, and pour its wealth into 
 her hands. 
 
 Yet, as she thought again, she Avas half sorry,
 
 The Birds Fly Home 317 
 
 because in her new life Avis needed neither help 
 nor comfort from the home Nest Of course, she 
 would never really forget them, Marjorie was sure 
 of that, no matter how successful she became ; but 
 it was natural that she should drift away into her 
 own charmed circle and not feel the close love 
 ties that bound the rest together. And some day, 
 perhaps 
 
 The snow must be piling up high in the road- 
 way, or else her dreams were leading her fancy 
 astray. She pressed her face closely to the win- 
 dow pane, and held her breath. There was a 
 peculiar blur in the outlines beyond the gate ; it 
 must be the falling snow, only she was sure she 
 caught a tinkle of sleigh bells. She rose to her 
 feet and took a longer look. The gate opened. 
 A man's figure, too tall for Uncle Harvey, was en- 
 tering the garden, and behind him 
 
 Suddenly Santa Glaus and his joyous flock were 
 amazed to hear a quick, glad cry from the window. 
 The curtains were thrust aside and Marjorie 
 paused in their midst only long enough to gasp, 
 " It's Avis ! " before she rushed pell mell to the 
 front door, and nearly fell straight into Rob's arms. 
 
 " Steady," cried Red Rover, righting her, laugh- 
 ingly, and reaching out to his mother's embrace. 
 " Merry Christmas, everybody ! We've brought 
 her royal highness home again."
 
 CHAPTER XXm 
 Fairy Tales Come True 
 
 BEHIND him stood Mr. Newell, his arm around 
 Avis, but he gave her up to Marjorie's eager arms 
 without a word, while one more figure hesitated in 
 the background. But Billie saw it. He looked 
 around quickly. Rob was with his mother and 
 father, laughing and shaking hands. Marjorie 
 had drawn Avis into the cosy sitting-room before 
 the warm fire, and the menagerie had swooped 
 down upon Mr. Newell. The stranger stood with 
 her back against the door, shaking the snow from 
 her red Tarn O'Shanter, and watching the general 
 reunion with happy eyes. 
 
 "Aren't you Betty?" 
 
 She turned quickly. It was, it must be Billie. 
 She felt that she would have known the short 
 sturdy figure, and round freckled face, if she had 
 met them in No Man's land, and she gave his out- 
 stretched hand a hearty, responsive grasp. 
 
 So it happened that by the time the rest of the 
 newcomers had recovered presence of mind enough 
 to think of the existence of Betty, they found her 
 318
 
 Fairy Tales Come, True 319 
 
 seated on the sofa with Billie, getting acquaint4-<l 
 at a startlingly rapid rate. 
 
 "Never mind, now, Avis," Billie protested, as 
 the former started to introduce her cousin. "I 
 can manage that part Folkses, this is Betty Mor- 
 gan, and you will all please remember that I have 
 always said she was a brick. Betty, the brown one 
 is Muggins, and the three over there choking Uncle 
 Harvey by slow degrees, are the only and original 
 menagerie, and Santa Glaus is Mr. Rogers, and 
 this is Mrs. Santa Glaus, and Bob is Santa Glaus, 
 Jr." 
 
 "Just a minute, Billie boy," Mr. Newell inter- 
 posed. " Let me add a little more to that intro- 
 duction." He laid his hand lovingly on Betty's 
 brown hair, tumbled and blown about by the wind. 
 "This is also my own dear daughter, Bethiah 
 Newell, and your cousin, children." 
 
 It was all as Winnie said, " honest true." After 
 the unexpected guests had been toasted and fed 
 with all kinds of good things, every one gathered 
 in the cosy parlor, and there under the shadow of 
 the Christmas tree, were told the wondrous fairy 
 tales that had come true. The tale of the cistern 
 ghost, and of Marjorie's treasure trove not so 
 very much, of course, as riches are reckoned, but 
 enough to make her feel strong and independent 
 and sure of Book's Nest, as she told Uncle Harvey.
 
 320 Rook's Nest 
 
 Then came Betty's story, and that was the most 
 interesting of all. She told it herself, and all the 
 children listened eagerly, Billie and the Lamb with 
 a growing conviction that next to Muggins this 
 brown eyed young person was the greatest brick 
 and all around good fellow who had come into the 
 kingdom of Rattletibang for many a moon. 
 
 " It all happened because I wanted Avis to have 
 that check," began Betty, nodding her head at 
 them all, as she sat on the sofa with Uncle Harvey 
 bending over the high carved back. " If it hadn't 
 been for her story, I should have been a poor, 
 lone, lorn orphan this minute instead of being 
 hugged suddenly in the bosom of a family all my 
 own. After I got the check, we went home to 
 Madame's " 
 
 " The old darling who made floating islands and 
 things ? " asked Dora, eagerly. 
 
 "Yes. And, of course, we found Avis gone. 
 While I was fussing around, and worrying, and 
 watching at the front room windows for the am- 
 bulance to come with the remains, all at once I 
 heard Mr. Newell father, you know exclaim, 
 ' Miss Morgan, come here.' I was afraid he had 
 discovered the cracker boxes under the lounge, or 
 some hidden skeleton of our Poverty Palace. I 
 hurried to where he stood, but all he had was a 
 picture of mamma that always sat on the bureau.
 
 Fairy Tales Come True 321 
 
 I was so surprised I couldn't speak, until he 
 asked : 
 
 " ' Where did Avis get this picture ? ' 
 
 " ' Avis doesn't know anything about it,' I said. 
 ' It's mine the portrait of my mother.' " 
 
 " How lovely," sighed the Owl, and Betty was 
 at once transformed into a beautiful long lost 
 princess in her eyes. 
 
 " Then what happened ? " urged Billie. 
 
 " Then he asked my name, and I told him Betty 
 Morgan, but that the last was my aunt's name, not 
 my own. Then it all came out in a rush, about 
 Aunt Felicia, and how mamma died, leaving me a 
 tiny baby ; and then he told me how he was my 
 own father, and had married mamma when he was 
 only about twenty-two, when he was out West here 
 on business for his father " 
 
 " That's Grandpa Newell," whispered the Lamb 
 to Billie, in an audible aside. " He was a regular 
 old Tartar." 
 
 "They were so happy for awhile," went on 
 Betty, " and then he had to return East, and they 
 decidest the wisest plan was for mamma to go to 
 her home where Aunt Felicia lived, while father 
 went and told his parents he was married, and 
 then he would either send for her to come to Bos- 
 ton, or else come back West himself, according as 
 they took the news. Well, when he reached Bos-
 
 322 Rook's Nest 
 
 ton, he found that Aunt Avis had married against 
 her father's wishes, and everything was in a peck of 
 trouble, so he put off telling of his own affair from 
 day to day, to spare his father another shock." 
 
 " I'm so glad some one else shocked him besides 
 mamma," murmured the Lamb, fervently, leaning 
 forward, her chin on her palms. 
 
 " So the time went on, and, although he wrote 
 and wrote to mamma, he never heard a word from 
 her, so, of course, Aunt Felicia must have inter- 
 cepted the letters. Finally he received a line from 
 her, saying I had been born, and both mamma and 
 I died, and that she never wished to hold any com- 
 munication with a Newell again." 
 
 "Bet a cookie she was a stiff-necked old damsel 
 all right," chuckled Billie, and at this point Mr. 
 Newell himself took up the narrative. 
 
 " So, you see, children, your old stern uncle had 
 a burden to bear in life that probably made him 
 more reserved, and morose, and " 
 
 " All fwoze up," suggested the Lion, interestedly. 
 
 " Yes, that was it," he assented, smilingly, " all 
 froze up, Reggie, and so full of the bitterness of 
 his own sorrow that he had no sympathy or love 
 to share with others, until Billie's letter awakened 
 him. After Aunt Bethiah died I believed I had no 
 one of my own people in the world to care for. 
 My immediate family were all gone, and I knew
 
 Fairy Tales Come True 323 
 
 nothing of Avis, your mother, or of her children, 
 since the rumor had reached me of her death. 
 The rest Betty has told you." 
 
 There was silence for a minute, broken only by 
 the Lion choking as he tried to swallow a whole 
 string of popcorn, then Mr. Newell continued : 
 
 " Only one thing remains. Who will return to 
 Boston with Betty and me ? " 
 
 No one spoke a word, but they all looked at 
 Marjorie. Her face flushed warmly under the fire 
 of anxious scrutiny, but she answered as Billie 
 and the menagerie knew she would : 
 
 "We love Rook's Nest best, Uncle Harvey. 
 You have been so kind and generous to us, but 
 you have Betty, now, so you won't be lonely. We 
 all want to stay here, unless Avis " 
 
 " Please let me stay, too," said Avis, in a low 
 tone. " I do not care to run away again." 
 
 The circle of heads around Marjorie bobbed in 
 grave assent, and Mr. Newell laughed, as he re- 
 moved his eye-glasses to polish them thoughtfully. 
 
 " Then if the mountain won't come to Mahomet, 
 Mahomet must go to the mountain, eh, Betty ? I 
 daresay that even you would rather join forces 
 with this independent and rebellious family than 
 go away to Boston with only your old father for 
 company." 
 
 Betty had an inward struggle with he frank in-
 
 324 Rook's Nest 
 
 clination to remain right where she was, and the 
 new love that bade her stand loyal to her father. 
 At last she replied, with a deep sigh : 
 
 " I'd go with you anywhere, father, to to Mad- 
 agascar, even, if you said so ; but if the mountain 
 could get up and trot west, it would be splendid." 
 
 "Just so," returned Mr. Newell, decidedly. "I 
 think it will have to trot. Most of my business 
 interests are centered now in Chicago, and all of 
 my heart interests here in Book's Nest. Since 
 Princess Muggins defies me, and all of her sub- 
 jects follow suit, I have but one alternative. Betty 
 and I will have to build us a castle of our own out 
 here in the wild west, and keep you all under our 
 protection. Mr. Rogers, do you think we could 
 find a few odd hills and ravines for sale ? " 
 
 " Miles of them," answered Santa Claus, heartily. 
 " Prettiest land in the state." 
 
 "Then we will settle in East Elmore," Mr. 
 Newell declared. " I have already taken the lib- 
 erty of investing a little of your share of the 
 Newell fortunes, children, in in real estate." 
 
 Marjorie and Avis exchanged quick glances of 
 surprise, and Billie stared. 
 
 " City real estate," he continued, a smile on his 
 genial face. " In fact, Mr. Ellis, your lawyer and 
 I have recovered possession of a valuable piece of 
 property, the old Randall home."
 
 Fairy Tales Come True 325 
 
 " Uncle Harvey ! " exclaimed all, in one breath, 
 and Dora rose precipitately to embrace him. 
 
 "One at a time," he laughed, with uplifted 
 hand. " I thought you would all approve. You 
 can take up winter quarters there, if you like, and 
 in summer come back to Book's Nest While 
 Betty and I are waiting for our castle to rise, may 
 we ask permission to make our home with you for 
 awhile?" 
 
 " Oh ! fine ! " cried all the children in chorus. 
 
 "And Billie must go to college," added Mr. 
 Newell. 
 
 " Geewollikins, that's the way it always ends 
 up," exclaimed William, aggrievedly. "Muggins 
 is just as bad. You all plan a pile of jolly things, 
 and then say, ' Billie must go to college.' Want 
 to pack me off to cram, and wear choker collars, 
 and part my hair in the middle, and kill myself 
 playing football, while you have a circus of a time. 
 That's what they do with a fellow ! Keep him a 
 nice, good little boy, until he does get old enough 
 to have a good time in his own way, and then 
 smother him in books, and bury him alive in 
 college. Uncle Harvey, Muggins needs a man 
 around the house." 
 
 Uncle Harvey's eyes twinkled shrewdly as he 
 glanced over to where Allyn Keith sat beside Mar- 
 jorie, the Lion on his knee, heroically submitting
 
 326 Rook's Nest 
 
 while the latter decked him with popcorn and 
 tinsel. 
 
 "I know that, Billie boy," he said, gravely, 
 " but I wouldn't worry much about that phase of 
 the question if I were you. From a little side 
 talk which I enjoyed with Allyn once, I imagine 
 that the post of man about the house is already 
 spoken for, is it not, Marjorie ? " 
 
 Marjorie blushed hotly at the sudden disclosure, 
 but met the charge with all her old honest direct- 
 ness. 
 
 " Some day, Uncle Harvey, 'way off." 
 
 " Well, of all measly, one-sided arrangements," 
 exclaimed Billie, wrathfully. "After the way 
 we've all stood by Marjorie through thick and 
 thin ! And now Mr. Keith, you think you can 
 take her away ! Why didn't you ask my con- 
 sent?" 
 
 He paused, for all save the menagerie were 
 laughing. The Lion had promptly deserted Al- 
 lyn at Billie' s first words, and now all four stood 
 in a row staring in stern reproach at the two cul- 
 prits. 
 
 " Billie, listen," Allyn rose, too, and faced his 
 inquisitor. "It wasn't quite fair, I know, but we 
 thought you knew and approved all the time." 
 
 " All what time ? " demanded the elder brother, 
 his head on one side, his hands plunged deep into
 
 Fairy Tales Come True 327 
 
 their favorite resting-places. "Since when has 
 this been going on ? " 
 
 " Since the day in the barn, I guess, when I first 
 saw Princess Muggins," and Allyn's tone was 
 more serious now. " But at all events," he went 
 on, "whenever it may happen, I shall only be 
 prince consort, you know, and the princess is al- 
 ways your same dear Marjorie." 
 
 " Always," interposed Marjorie, positively, " and 
 we beg that you will never desert the Nest, Billie, 
 or lead a revolt and all take to the woods ; be- 
 cause Winnie never could live in a cave on grass- 
 hoppers and cocoanuts, and the Lion is afraid of 
 bugs, and toads, and crawly things, and you and 
 Dora would look so funny dressed in wolf skins 
 and eagle feathers, and trying to shoot the wild, 
 wicked bees on the wing. So we beg that you 
 will be true and loyal Rattletibaugers for ever and 
 ever." 
 
 The Owl sighed, and wavered. 
 
 "It's drefful, of course," she began, helplessly, 
 " but as long as it's Muggins " 
 
 " They ought to have asked us about it," added 
 the Lamb, with a last faint stand for Billie, " but 
 as long as it's Mr. Keith " 
 
 Billie saw at once that he would be left alone 
 in another moment, and capitulated. 
 
 " Take her, my son," he said, solemnly. " If
 
 328 Rook's Nest 
 
 you ever need a friend, remember your brother 
 William, Muggins. Never can tell what may hap- 
 pen when folks get married. Not but what you're 
 a good sort, Mr. Keith, but I always had hopes 
 you would be the one to make her royal highness 
 stop cutting up her didoes. However, Rob's made 
 a good beginning in that way now, don't talk 
 back, Avis. Betty, keep her serene, please so I 
 will withdraw all opposition, and say, bless you, 
 my children. Polliwogs, attention ! " 
 
 And while all the rest of the happy company 
 stood up, and cheered joyously, the menagerie 
 danced their old time Feejee dance of triumph 
 around the tree, and sang their battle song, for the 
 love and honor of Princess Muggins, and her 
 castle. 
 
 " For we'll never, never, never, 
 No, we'll never, never, never, 
 Oh, we'll never, never, never 
 Leave our blessed Book's Nest." 
 
 THE END
 
 110816