"Thump, thump, thump!" a thunderous rap at the door of Shirley's shop brought the four girls on the run from the back room, where they had been doing the last of the window cleaning.
"It's Bob and Phil! Good for them!" shouted Bet. "Let them in, you're nearest, Kit!"
The two boys entered the doorway in a very supplicating manner, their hats held humbly in their hands.
"We want work, ladies! Can we get something to eat?" begged Bob without a smile.
"Youwould, Bob Evans! Thinking of food the first thing!" scolded Joy.
"Been out of a job for two months," added Phil.
"Then I suppose you want something to eat, too?"
"Yes ma'am, I'd like nothing better than a handout."
"You'll earn it first, you lazy things," exclaimed Kit.
"Always taking the joy out of life, isn't she?" Bob pretended to be sad.
"Now what do you boys want to do?" Bet was in her snappiest form, business-like and full of energy. "You can paint that strip around the wall where we've marked it, or you can paint the window, or you can paint chairs or tables. Now just take your choice of work, I don't care what you do, as long as you paint."
"But I wanted to do basketry or clay figures," teased Bob. "Didn't you, Phil?"
"No indeed. I wanted to paint. I'm a noble soul. I'm just dying to paint, in fact Imustpaint!"
"Then get to work!" cried Kit. "And don't waste so much time! This is our busy day. No parking here!"
"Slave drivers! No hand-out, and not a minute to collect our thoughts!"
"You don't need to worry, Bob, it won't take you that long to collect your thoughts! One second will be enough," retorted Joy.
"And we don't get anything to eat?" asked Phil.
But while the merry nonsense went on the two boys were preparing the paint and getting ready to work. Phil took a step ladder and began on the outside of the store, painting the frame of the window in bright orange.
"There now that stands out, all right," he exclaimed as he finished the job. "You can see that a mile off."
Bob finished the frame on the inside, about the same time and together they started on the broad strip that was marked off around the walls.
"Say lady, it's eleven o'clock. Can't we have that hand-out?" cried Bob Evans.
"Not yet. Why you've only been working an hour!" exclaimed Bet indignantly. "Who ever heard of such a thing!"
"Let's strike!" Phil dropped his paint brush and settled himself in an easy chair. "No hand-out, no more work!"
"That's right!" agreed Bob, capturing another chair.
"Oh you terrible boys! We might as well do it ourselves if we've got to stop every hour and feed you. There's nothing ready yet anyway." Bet frowned on her friends.
But just at that moment Uncle Nat appeared with two very large hampers and Bob and Phil each secured a basket.
"Now who's to say when?" laughed Bob. "Who's boss now, answer me that?"
"We are in the power of two tyrants who won't work!" said Kit dramatically.
"Take that back, Kit Patten, or you'll not get a bite of lunch. Say you're sorry!" teased Phil.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll take it back!" laughed Kit.
"I'll tell you what, boys." It was Shirley's voice from the rear room, where she was cleaning out the big closet for a dark room. "We do want that strip painted before lunch. It won't take you more than ten minutes. While we are fixing up this table and unpacking the baskets, you finish that."
"Right-O, Shirley!" The boys were on their feet instantly and they went to work without another word.
"Oh girls, doesn't it look perfectly wonderful!" exclaimed Bet, coming into the room just as the two boys laid aside their brushes. "Now you shall eat!"
"A crust of bread and a glass of water, I suppose!"
"You suppose nothing of the sort. You know Auntie Gibbs put it up and therefore it has to be good!" exclaimed Kit. "But you boys won't get a bite to eat until you've washed your faces."
"Now we rebel! This is the limit. The worm turns at last. We're going to eat this way." And they did.
Auntie Gibbs had outdone herself on the lunch. There was fried chicken and apple fritters, still piping hot. There was jelly and hot biscuits. The table was loaded.
"Here Kit, open up that box of marshmallows. And put one in each cup of cocoa."
"One! Why you stingy thing. I'll not drink it unless I have three!" exclaimed Bob.
"All right, give the child what he wants!" Bet agreed.
"Auntie Gibbs must have thought we were going to feed all of Lynnwood. Sending down a lunch this size!" laughed Shirley.
"But that's so much better than not having enough. Wait until we've finished it, there won't be much left. I know what kind of an appetite I have, and when Bob gets to work he'll eat about half of what's here."
"Aren't you going to wash that orange streak off your face, Phil?" asked Bet.
"No. It's a beauty mark."
While the young people were making merry over their lunch, the door of the shop opened and shuffling feet were heard outside in the front room.
Bet jumped up excitedly, "Maybe it's a customer! Oh girls!"
"Oh, I hope it isn't!" exclaimed Shirley. "We haven't got anything for sale yet."
"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Gruff," Bet's voice was heard from the back room. "You are our first visitor."
"What you doing here?" Peter asked abruptly.
"Listen to the old grouch," whispered Joy to Shirley. "One would think he owned this store."
"Ssh! Keep quiet, Joy. Let's hear what he's saying."
Bet answered the old man in her sweetest manner. "We're opening an art shop. We'll be your next door neighbor, Mr. Gruff."
"What are you going to sell? Antiques?"
"Not just at present. Perhaps later we may," answered Bet.
"Don't do it. There's no money in antiques! Not a penny. Of course if you want them, I'll be able to get them for you. I go to all the auctions. I went away out to Connecticut the other day to get some old lamps."
"And did you get them? What were they like?" questioned Bet.
"I didn't get them. They went too high. That's the reason I say there's no money in antiques. It used to be one could pick up things for almost nothing."
"Yes people learned to value their old things."
"Are you Colonel Baxter's girl? I thought so! Now there's a man who knows antiques. Can't get ahead of him on a buy. He knows just what a thing should sell for and half the time he can tell me to a penny what I paid for it."
Bet laughed heartily at this, for she remembered her father telling her how old Peter had tried to sell him some candlesticks at an exorbitant price.
"Seein' as it's you, Colonel Baxter," he had said, "You can have this pair of candlesticks for fifteen dollars."
"Too much, Mr. Gruff," the Colonel answered emphatically.
"Ten dollars then, Colonel Baxter. I won't be making a penny on them, not one."
"No, Peter, I'll be going to an auction myself soon, and I can pick up candlesticks anytime."
"Now Colonel Baxter, bein' as it's you, I don't mind losing a little money on those sticks. Ain't they beauties now? You can have the pair of them for seven dollars. Will you take them with you or shall I send them up to the Manor?"
"That's too much, Peter. You know you got those candlesticks thrown in when you bought that highboy and the gate-leg table."
Peter Gruff had been so thunderstruck at the Colonel's correct guess that he had stood open-mouthed, staring, and without a word he had placed the candlesticks on the shelf and began rubbing his hands together in great agitation.
The old furniture dealer was tricky, and Bet wondered now what he was prying around the shop for.
"You won't need that back room, will you? Maybe you'll let me store some things here." He started toward the rear.
"Oh, we are going to use all the rooms. Shirley Williams is going to have a photographic shop in the back room. Maybe you'll want your picture taken when we open for business."
The old man started and a look of fear came into his eyes. "What would I want a picture for?" he snarled, watching Bet anxiously, for the last time that Peter Gruff had been photographed was by the police, and that episode he wished forgotten.
"Come in and have a cup of cocoa with us, Mr. Gruff," invited Shirley.
"Oh yes," insisted Bet. "Here take this chair!" The girls had led him into the back room, where the young people greeted the old man joyously.
He took the proffered cup, accepted sandwiches and a good helping of chicken and didn't stop until he had eaten greedily all that was passed him, smacking his lips at each bite.
Joy and Kit got to laughing at the shocking table manners of the old man and had to leave the room.
When he was finally satisfied he began, "Don't think of handling antiques. No money in them. Once upon a time," the old man started again, "one could buy a wagon load of them for a dollar and sell maybe one old chair for fifty dollars. Then it was worth while to handle antiques. Why many a time I've started out with my wagon full of pots and pans and dishes, and exchanged a new platter that cost me twenty-five cents for a dish that I finally sold for twenty-five dollars."
No one spoke for a moment. They felt shocked at the old man's method of working. But he did not notice and went on.
"All the old farmers' wives wanted things up to date and so they just gave away the old things that had been in the family for a hundred years and got some shiny new stuff."
Joy and Kit interrupted the conversation by exclaiming: "Oh Bet I think that paint is dry enough so we can put the covering in the show window. Come and see!"
And old Peter Gruff rose with the others, after helping himself to three more sandwiches which he put in his pocket.
Bet and Shirley decided to frame some of the prints in the narrow gilt frames that Colonel Baxter had purchased for them. And in a few minutes they had them in the window.
"Let's go outside and see what it looks like!" exclaimed Bet excitedly.
The girls walked up and down in front of the store.
"Let's pretend we're just walking by on our way down town. Would it attract your eye?" asked Shirley, seriously.
"Not exactly attract," laughed Bet. "I should say ithitsthe eye. You can't pass up that orange window."
The girls placed their window display very carefully, putting only a few prints in so that they would show up.
"What we should have is a pretty vase or a vanity box or something of that sort to put in with these prints."
It looked to the girls as if old Peter had come to stay. As Shirley was going through her prints, he noticed the picture of the queen's fan and became quite excited. "That's an antique, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yes, it is a fan that belongs to my father," answered Bet, annoyed at the old man for interrupting their work.
"Let's see the fan," he begged, as if the girls had refused.
"We haven't got it here; it belongs to Colonel Baxter," Shirley answered.
But the old man didn't seem to believe them, for he poked his way into every corner of the shop, and in the dark-room he made a careful search, much to the amusement of the girls.
Then he sat down near Shirley and Bet as they framed more art prints.
"Now what's them for?" he asked. "Them pictures of birds?"
"Oh we expect to sell them to someone. Don't you think they're pretty?"
"Maybe," said old Pete. "That is somebody might like them. It's funny what people will buy."
But Peter Gruff was restless. He had hoped to find the fan and as he saw another print he picked it up and studied it carefully.
"Where did Colonel Baxter get the fan?" he asked.
"I don't know," answered Bet. "He has it, that's all I know."
Old Peter arose and once more started in a search of the rooms, unwilling to believe that the fan was not hidden in the shop. Wherever the girls wanted to work they stumbled into him.
At last Kit had an idea. "See this lovely picture, Mr. Gruff. It's only five dollars. Don't you think you'd like to buy it?"
The old man stammered, "No, no!" but Kit interrupted:
"And even if you don't want it for yourself, it would make a splendid Christmas present for some of your friends."
"Pay five dollars for a picture! Why there ain't a soul in the world that I care five dollars for!"
Peter Gruff left in a hurry. "Five dollars for one little picture!" he muttered to himself. "And such a skimpy frame. Why it's not worth fifty cents. Such prices! Such robbery!" The old man disappeared into the depths of his musty shop muttering:
"Just because I went in to see what they were up to and ate a little morsel of their lunch, they thought I was going to buy one of their pictures for five dollars! —And me with my shop full of the finest colored pictures, handpainted too!" And in his excitement he actually dusted off the top of a table.
"That was a mean trick, Kit Patten, to scare the poor fellow like that. How would you like it?" exclaimed Bob Evans with a serious face.
"Well I tried to be polite at first. I told him it was our busy day and he didn't pay any attention. And he wouldn't move: just kept on talking."
"You've broken his heart," exclaimed Phil dramatically. "His head is bowed with grief."
"And it ought to be!" stormed Kit, her eyes snapping, her cheeks scarlet. "He's wasted a full hour of my time."
The boys shouted with laughter. It was not often that they could succeed in getting Kit nettled. She was so even-tempered that they had almost given up teasing her. Bet, on the contrary was an easy prey, for her temper flared up at a second's notice.
But just now she was cool and composed: "Oh come on, Kit don't be silly. There's enough to do, goodness knows, without you staging a temper fit."
"Guess you're right, Bet. I'll be good." Kit was all smiles in a minute as she grabbed a dust mop to give the floor another cleaning before the rug was put down.
"I'm tired out completely!" Bob cried suddenly and dropped into the nearest chair.
"Bob Evans," screamed Joy. "There you've gone and ruined my chair. And it took me a good hour to paint it!"
Bob jumped to his feet, "Oh I'm so sorry, Sis. I didn't see it!"
But even the provoked Joy could not keep from laughing as Bob turned around. His trousers were streaked with paint.
"Oh turn around, Bob! Let's see you. You look like a winter sunset!" shouted Phil.
"Let us have those pants to frame," Bet laughed.
"And say Bob, you could go outside and strut up and down the sidewalk and be a walking advertisement for Shirley's Shop."
"Now you've broken my heart, too!" moaned Bob.
"Then take my advice and go over and weep on Peter's shoulder, and I, for one, won't miss you. Making me do all that work over again!"
"Here boys, get to work, you're only getting into mischief by standing around. Help me with this rug, it isn't straight." And the boys jumped to attention at Bet's order and arranged the rug to suit her.
"There now, isn't that cozy?" exclaimed Kit. And they all stood back and admired the work that had transformed the old store into a cozy room.
"I think it's just lovely," said Bet, with a sigh of happiness.
Joy hadn't quite recovered from her disappointment over her spoiled chair. She was working away with a frown as she repaired the damage. At a suggestion from Bob that she finish the job she had started on him, Joy gave a dab with her brush and left a long streak across his cheek.
"Now go away and leave me alone, Bob Evans."
"Get to work! Get to work!" shouted Bet. "Here help me with this table, Phil."
They lifted the heavy library table that the Colonel had given them from one corner of the room to the other. At the fifth move, Bet was satisfied but that brought it back to exactly the spot where she had started.
"Why don't you two go into the moving business? Bet has a talent in that direction," teased Bob.
"Now I'm just too happy today to get angry at you for anything, Bob, so you might as well give up. I'm having the time of my life!"
And Bet looked happy as she arranged the large easy chairs about the room, while Shirley got out the portfolios of prints for the table.
"There now, the work's all done, isn't it?" asked Phil.
"Why the idea!" laughed Bet. "There are millions of things to do yet."
"It will take weeks to have things the way we want it," agreed Kit.
The girls now got out needles and some orange silk and started on the fancy shade for the lights. A floor lamp was to give the main lighting for the room and a number of wall brackets would add to the artistic effect.
"It's kind of you to say that there is nothing else we can do," laughed Phil with a deep bow.
"And thanks for the eats. Ask us to come to your next party, that is if there is no work to do."
"Why you lazy things! There'll always be work at Shirley's Shop," said Bet.
"Bye-bye," waved Bob as he and Phil departed.
The girls hurried on with their different tasks. Kit and Bet were making the lamp shades, chattering of their plans for the future.
Shirley putting some prints away noticed the fan.
"Say, Bet, why was old Peter Gruff so excited about the fan?"
"That's just his way. He's simply crazy about antiques. He'll be offering Dad a dollar and a half for it some of these days."
"We can see right down into his basement from our rear window," said Joy. "Did you ever see such a disorderly place? Isn't it a wonder that he ever sells anything?"
The boys had not been gone long when two women walked past the shop, then turned and stopped at the window with an exclamation of surprise.
"When did this place open? Isn't it attractive? Let's go in and see who it is and what they have."
Kit grabbed Joy by the arm. "Let's get out and leave things to Bet and Shirley. Four saleswomen in this shop at present are a few too many." The girls slipped into the room in the rear and waited breathlessly to see what would happen.
Bet recognized the two women. They were newcomers to the town. Mrs. Lester had a charming home in Crestwood, a new suburb of the village, and Mrs. Carey lived only a few streets away.
"We noticed your pretty shop and thought we would look in and see what you have," said Mrs. Lester.
Bet turned to Shirley but now that she was faced with a possible customer, the girl was panic stricken. She bent her head over her work and left Bet to do the talking.
Bet did not find any difficulty in this, however. She rose quite naturally and invited the women to be seated. Mrs. Carey started toward a bright orange chair, and Bet cried, "Oh not there, Mrs. Carey. That one is just painted!" and as the woman turned toward another one, she grabbed her by the arm just in time. "That chair is being repaired and would have let you down."
Everybody was laughing by this time and Shirley was on her feet, offering the women the chairs that were usable.
"How long has your shop been open?" asked Mrs. Carey. "I never noticed it before."
"It isn't open yet—that is we planned on opening it next Saturday, for the paint on the outside isn't dry, and as you see, the chairs are still wet and rickety." And Bet went on to tell of their plans for a Saturday Shop.
As she stopped, Mrs. Lester exclaimed: "That's a splendid idea! I call that clever of you!"
"Oh, I'm not clever. It's Shirley here. She's the one who makes those pretty prints that you see in the window."
"They are lovely. I noticed them."
"They will make nice Christmas presents, don't you think so?" suggested Bet. "Of course it's a little early to think of buying presents, but it's a good idea to have them on hand."
Mrs. Lester smiled at the girl's eagerness and her charming manner.
"I saw one in the window that pleased me very much, but you have everything so nicely arranged I hate to disturb it."
"You needn't worry about that. We'd just love to sell it to you," and Bet looked toward Shirley, who had dropped her work and was already getting the print.
Then Shirley opened her portfolio and the two women looked over the pictures.
"That view of the Hudson is very pretty but I think the print of the gulls suits me better. Yes, that's the one I will take."
Mrs. Carey chose a landscape. Shirley called it "At Dawn."
"This scene is right around here, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yes, it's right down there by Ritter's pond."
"I love it!" exclaimed the woman. "You've made it prettier than the real scene."
"I'm not so sure about that, Mrs. Carey. You should see it just at sunrise or on a misty morning. It's perfect!"
"That's one nice thing about Shirley. Her pictures are an improvement on nature," laughed Bet.
Kit and Joy, who had been whispering for some time in the back room now appeared with a tray and teapot.
Bet gave them a ravishing smile of approval, and over tea and cakes the girls amused their callers with a recital of their doings.
"Will every customer get a cup of tea?" laughed Mrs. Lester.
"We haven't quite decided that yet. We want to have it cozy and homey as well as business-like."
"I'm sure after this reception we will always want to drop in when we are down town," said Mrs. Lester. "It's the coziest shop I've ever seen."
So well did their first customers get acquainted with the girls that they knew their plans pretty well and Shirley had been asked to bring her camera to Mrs. Lester's home and get a series of pictures of her two small children.
"I planned on having a man come out from New York, but I'm very sure you can do as well. The children are apt to be shy with grown ups."
An appointment was made and as the door closed behind them the four chums dropped into their chairs and stared at each other without speaking. Then Joy came to life with a dance. "Come on Kit, I just have to dance. If I don't I'll explode into a million pieces."
But Shirley was holding the two five-dollar bills in her hand looking at them as if she had never seen such a thing before.
"Girls, you've all been so good in helping. Let's divide this equally between us."
"Why the idea, Shirley Williams!" exclaimed Bet. "Who made those prints? Who sat up until two o'clock one morning? Did we? —We did not. That money belongs to you and no one else."
"Say girls, that was a good idea about the tea. What made you think of it?" Shirley asked a little later.
"We wanted a share in Shirley's first sale and that was the only way we could think of getting into it," smiled Kit.
"It was a good day's work, young lady!" approved Bet. "For if they hadn't been drinking tea they wouldn't have known anything about Shirley's picture-taking ability and now she has an order."
The door rattled again and the girls stood up, expecting another customer. But it was better than that. It was Colonel Baxter with a big package in his arms. He had just returned from New York, bringing with him some purchases for the shop.
As soon as he appeared, the girls met him, all talking at once, and drew him to a chair.
"Sit down, Colonel Baxter. I'll have a cup of tea for you in a minute," shouted Kit and she and Joy ran to the little electric plate in the back room. "The water is almost hot. It will be ready in less than no time."
While the two girls were busy preparing the tea, Bet and Shirley told of the doings of the day and Shirley proudly waved the ten dollars in her hand.
"And just see, Colonel Baxter, the first sales in Shirley's Shop!"
"And I was planning on having that honor myself. I didn't think you would have anything ready until next week. You've done wonders with this old store."
Colonel Baxter laughed heartily over the description of the boys demanding a handout.
"And here's another hungry man," he said. "I hope that tea will soon be ready."
"We're coming just in a minute, Colonel Baxter," called Joy. Then to Kit she said: "I bet he didn't have a bite of lunch. Let's fix up some cold chicken and apple fritters for him."
"Now that's my idea of afternoon tea," exclaimed the Colonel, as he settled himself comfortably in an easy chair and seized upon the chicken. "Did you feed your two customers as well?"
"Oh no," said Kit with great disdain. "With them we were exceedingly polite. We made those little sandwiches, the two for a penny kind, and gave them only tea and cakes besides. That's all they got."
"Then it's all right. I was afraid you might be treating them better than you treated me and I was getting jealous."
The girls cast many searching glances at the package and finally Bet burst out: "Dad dear, I just can't wait a minute longer to see what you bought for Shirley's Shop."
"Then go and see!" But as all the girls made a rush, he exclaimed, "No, no, not all together. Something will be smashed, sure. Let the boss attend to it."
Everybody else stood back, but Bet grabbed the package.
"Well, since when are you boss of Shirley's Shop?" laughed the Colonel. "You forget, you're only boss of Merriweather Manor."
Shirley laughed and undid the strong cord and covering of the box, which was filled with excelsior.
"I don't believe there's a thing in it," said Bet. "He's putting something over on you, Shirley."
But just then the girl's fingers touched something and she drew it forth.
"Oh Daddy, how did you know that's just what we want for our window display?" cried Bet as Shirley held up an exquisite vase and Bet dug her hand into the box and brought forth some vanity cases and other bright objects that the Colonel had chosen.
"How did you ever think of all these lovely things?" said Bet, looking at her father with pride and satisfaction.
"Well, when I went around to the gift shop where I left Shirley's pictures, I just kept my eyes open."
"And did you buy them right there?" asked Bet.
"Of course he didn't! And pay top prices! Colonel Baxter is too good a business man for that and he has the interest of Shirley and Company too much at heart," protested Shirley.
"Oh, I didn't think of that," replied Bet. "One does have to make a profit!"
"Now here you are, Miss Fixit! Here is the bill. I backed you for it and you have two months to pay it."
"That's a debt of thirty dollars, and I've taken in one-third of that this first afternoon and got an order for maybe fifty dollars worth of photographs. When I once get started I can make a lot of money, taking pictures of children in their homes."
"Mrs. Lester would make a striking portrait, herself, Shirley," suggested Bet.
"Don't think I missed seeing a thing like that. I've already posed her in a dozen ways in my mind," answered Shirley.
"Get it on paper, kid!" laughed Kit.
"You've never seen me let any grass grow under my feet, have you?" laughed Shirley.
"No, I haven't. You don't talk much, but you do plenty."
"I'll need to do plenty, if I'm to make Shirley's Shop a success," the girl answered with a happy smile that was full of hope and enthusiasm.
A tap at the door, and another visitor announced himself. He extended his hand at once Co Colonel Baxter.
"How do you do, Mr. Doran," said Colonel Baxter cordially. "Let me introduce you to Shirley Williams, the proprietor of this shop, and her three friends, Bet Baxter, Joy Evans and Kit Patten."
Charles Doran bowed with great ceremony to the young girls and then announced his business.
"I am representing a camera company and I'm anxious to have you put in a line of good cameras."
"Why Shirley, that's not a bad idea," exclaimed Bet. "Days when prints are not selling, cameras may. Who knows?"
"But I'm not sure whether we can or not, Mr. Doran. You see we are just starting and we haven't made any money yet."
"That's all right," replied Mr. Doran. "We've heard of this shop opening and we consider it an A-1 opportunity for us, and it will give us a great deal of pleasure to put in some cameras for you on very satisfactory terms."
Shirley looked toward Colonel Baxter who was enjoying himself, watching the interest of the girls as business details unfolded.
"Sit down, Doran, and have a cup of tea."
Kit made a dive for the rear room to prepare tea.
"Remember this, girls. If you want to get the best of a bargain, always feed your victim." This from Colonel Baxter.
Mr. Doran smiled and an hour later when he left, Shirley had consented to put in a display of cameras to be sold on a generous commission.
Shirley's Shop was progressing and the girls were getting valuable experience as they watched it grow.
Regretfully they bade it good-bye until the following Friday afternoon, when they planned to meet there after school to admire their work and make plans.
Shirley's Shop was a success. The four girls had made it so. All their friends, who heard of their efforts, came to buy gifts.
"Aren't we lucky!" exclaimed Bet. "Everybody has been so good!"
"I didn't know I had so many friends in the world," said Shirley with moisture in her eyes. "I wish I could pass it on to others."
"How can that be done?" asked Joy.
"Well, there are so many men out of work this year that I'm sure we could find lots of people to help. I hate to think of children being disappointed at Christmas."
"Why can't we have a tree, right here in the shop and have all the children come and get their presents?"
"That idea's not a total loss, for a wonder, Joy. It shows a good heart but very little head-work," answered Bet.
"Why, Bet Baxter, what's the matter now? Why all the kitty-cat stuff! Take it back!"
"Well, I just hate that kind of a Christmas tree. Showing up the poor little things as being too poor to have one of their own."
"What's your idea, then?" challenged Joy.
"I want the little kiddies to wake up on Christmas morning and find a tree at home and their stockings filled to overflowing."
"Yes, and to know that their eyes will get bigger and bigger, and they'll even peep under the bed to make sure that Santa isn't hiding there," Shirley added.
"That would be a real Christmas," agreed Kit.
"But where will our fun come in? Don't we see their eyes getting big and bigger, or anything? I think that will spoil it all. I want to see them get their toys, put them right into their hands," pouted Joy.
"That's all right, Joy Evans. But what about their faith in Santa Claus? If Santa Claus doesn't come when their Dad is out of work, what will they think of a saint like that, I'd like to know?" exclaimed Bet.
"So we've got to save the reputation of Santa Claus, is that it?" asked Joy.
"That's one way of saying it. Although I would rather put it, that we are playing Santa Claus."
"Right-O!" cried Kit. "What's the first thing to do, General?" Kit stood at salute before Bet.
"We'll go down to the Chamber of Commerce and find out from Mrs. Keith what needy families there are and what ones we will supply. —By the way, Shirley, can we use the back room for the toys we collect?"
"Why certainly, girls, you know you don't have to ask. And you can count on Mrs. Lester giving us a lot of things for very small children. She said the other day that the nursery was full and she wished she knew some children who needed things."
"I'll dress four dolls," promised Kit. "In that way I can indulge my passion for dolls and not be laughed at."
"Why Kit Patten, would you play with dolls? I've always hated them, used to crack their heads against a stone to see their eyes jump out," confessed Joy.
"Why you cruel monster!" cried Shirley. "I always loved dolls, but I had my baby sisters to take care of so I never had much time."
"Now I'll confess!" laughed Bet. "I have a doll trunk under my bed where it can't be seen, and sometimes when I am all alone, I still play with them."
"Aren't you girls funny!" teased Joy. "And you in the first year of high school!"
"Kit," suddenly asked Bet, "will you act as secretary for the Merriweather Girls Helpful Aid Society and keep track of what we all must do?"
"I'm so busy, girls; will you let me buy trees and ornaments, for my share?" asked Shirley.
"Oh, that's fine. All right, put it down, Kit. And I will be on the committee to beg old toys. And we'll all get to work and make repairs. —I have a dandy scooter bike, but it needs paint."
A few days later they had a list of needy ones. "Oh, here's a nice big family for us," cried Bet. "It's Mrs. Ryan down by the tracks. She has nine children, and listen to the names: Emmelina, Francis Drake—oh, girls, isn't it a scream! Next comes Orlando, then Amarylis, Ronald, Marcel, Babette, Ernestine and Vivienne."
"Heaven help us! And do we have to get gifts to live up to those names? Why diamonds and pearls would be too common for such people." Joy threw both hands in the air as a sign of distress.
"Never mind, Joy. I think the little Ryans will deign to accept a stocking full of sweets and things like jumping jacks. Dad thinks we ought to give out some of the repair work to men who are out of jobs. He says he'll help pay for it as his share. Dad has a good bicycle which I'm sure a man can fix up."
"Let's put a sign in the window, 'Man wanted for repair work on toys,'" said the quiet Shirley.
"Might be better to put 'for odd job'," laughed Kit.
Bet took a piece of drawing paper and pencilled the sign at once. It read:
"Man wanted for repair work on toys. Apply Saturday morning at 11 o'clock."
The sign was put in the window on Friday after school, and before the girls were well inside their shop on Saturday the first applicant arrived.
"I see you want a man to work!"
"Oh, but you weren't to call before eleven o'clock."
"Sure, I know that, but what chance would a fellow have to wait that long? Everybody wants work."
"All right, take a look at that bicycle and see if you can find out what's the matter with it." Bet led the way to the rear room.
"It looks like a pretty good bicycle, Miss. But it's hard to say whether it can be fixed or not. A blacksmith might tell you!"
Just then the door of the shop opened and another man entered.
"I see the ad. in the window; I want to talk to the boss."
Shirley ran for Bet who was still interviewing the first comer, and shoved her toward the door. "You talk to him, Bet."
"Good morning, sir," said Bet.
"I want to talk to the boss."
"I'mthe boss."
The man glared at her with an angry look. She saw that he did not believe her and imagined that she was making fun of him.
"When I want to see the boss, that's who I want to see!" he muttered.
A third man appeared and the second turned on him. "Say, can't you read? That sign says eleven o'clock! Now git out!"
"I'll not get out. Where's the boss?"
By this time the girls were frightened at the threatening attitude of the men. Joy was almost hysterical with fear.
"I'm the only boss there is here," said the second visitor, doubling up his fists as if prepared to fight.
Bet came toward the two men. "I don't want either of you men to work for me. Will you please go away?"
A small crowd of men was collecting outside the door and Bet was afraid. She went toward the back room, hoping to be able to enlist the help of the one she had been talking to. Just as she did so, the door was thrust open, and Bet, shoving the other girls in front of her, exclaimed in a whisper, "What will we do?"
But as she turned at the door, she saw a tall figure, who grabbed the ruffian by the collar and invited him outside.
"Oh it's Phil!" exclaimed Bet hysterically. "Now we're all right!"
After Phil had persuaded the men in the crowd to leave, he returned to the room to find the first caller making ready to go. "I don't know anything about bicycles. Anyway it's steady work I want. There's no money in odd jobs."
"What under the sun is it all about?" demanded Phil anxiously as more men began to collect.
"We put a sign in the window asking for a man to help on the repair work!" said Bet.
"Then get it out as quick as you can. You'll have a line here soon."
"How are we going to get someone to help, then? Dad thought it would be a good idea to hire men who are out of work."
"He probably expected you to call up the Chamber of Commerce and get a man. They know everybody who needs work."
"Oh dear, what a lot of things one has to learn when they go into business!" mused Kit. "I thought we were doing just right."
That afternoon the bicycle was being repaired by old Bill Colby, a fine old man who lived with his invalid wife in a small shack on the back street. He took such pride in his work that the bicycle looked like new when he finished it. And the pay warmed his heart. The girls were generous.
During the next two weeks, the back room of Shirley's Shop looked as if there had been a revolution in toyland. Dolls without heads, others without arms or legs, eyeless ones, big and little were strewn about the room, while doll carriages minus wheels, kiddie cars, battered and streaked, awaited the skillful hand of the old man.
One afternoon shortly before Christmas as he was leaving Bet said, "We will have a Christmas package to send down to Mrs. Colby."
The old man's face flushed with pleasure. "Mother is bedfast with rheumatism," he said, "and it would do her a power of good if you would run in and see her sometime. She'll like the present too, but she gets very lonely."
"There Joy, there's your chance to do personal work. You can go and call on Ma Colby and see her eyes shine."
"I'll just do that. I want to be Lady Bountiful but I also want to get some thrill out of giving," laughed Joy.
"All right, there's your chance."
The report that they were going to give out toys soon got around, and the day before Christmas Mrs. Ryan appeared leading four of her children. "I just came in to say that Emmelina needs a new dress, worst way, and Orlando must have shoes."
"I'm very sorry," replied Bet. "You see we are giving out only toys. You should go down to the Chamber of Commerce, they are attending to the clothing."
Mrs. Ryan looked disappointed. "Lots of people pretend they need help when they don't. The Nestors next door to me, they don't need it at all. They have plenty.—And I'm a worthy object. Mr. Ryan has been out of work considerable this year."
The girls looked their sympathy but could do nothing. "You go down to the Chamber of Commerce," they advised.
In a few minutes after she had left, another woman called. "I just come in to see if you could get my little Mike an overcoat. He needs one terrible. He gets that cold!"
Again Bet referred the woman to the Chamber of Commerce, and as she left, she whispered, "There are some people who apply for help who don't need it at all. There's Mrs. Ryan next door to me. She gets plenty.—And my Mike needs a coat."
The girls laughed long and merrily over the two women. They called Mrs. Keith at the Chamber of Commerce and had a further laugh over the recital of the efforts of the two women to see who would get the most.
At last everything was ready and the girls waited patiently for the Shop to close. Phil and Bob arrived with two cars to take the things to the different houses.
As they stopped the car a little way down the street from Mrs. Ryan's and approached the gate with their arms full, they heard the loud voice of that woman calling over the back fence, "I've got two Christmas trees already, I'll sell you one cheap. You can have it for fifty cents."
"Indeed and I'll not give you fifty cents for it, Mrs. Ryan, I'll not give you twenty-five cents for it."
"I know where I can sell it for sixty cents, Mrs. Nestor."
"Then that's where you should sell it."
"Being as it's you, Mrs. Nestor, I'll give you the tree for fifteen cents."
"Does that mean ornaments, too?"
"Ornaments," cried Mrs. Ryan. "I haven't any ornaments to spare. Oranges and apples are plenty good for you."
"Then I'll only give you ten cents for it. Take it or leave it."
"Ten cents! Why I'm ashamed of you, Mrs. Nestor, for being so close-fisted!"
"You took two trees! I'd like to know who's close-fisted! Ten cents it is, Mrs. Ryan or nothing."
"All right, Mrs. Nestor, but I must say I'm disappointed In you. I allus thought you were a good, kind neighbor."
"Give me the tree! And here's your ten cents! I have some ornaments left over from last year."
"If she had only waited a little longer, she might have saved ten cents and got some ornaments as well," laughed Phil, as Bet signalled him to put the tree back.
"It's a good thing," sighed Kit as they got into the car again, "that not all cases are like that. There was Mrs. Delaney, and how grateful she was for every little thing. By the way, they didn't get a tree. This will just round out their Christmas in style."
"I'm so glad that Hal Delaney got that bicycle of your father's, Bet. He will put it to good use in delivering his papers."
When the girls went to bed that night they felt they had earned their rest.
Shirley's Shop had done remarkably well during the Christmas rush and all the girls were delighted. To Shirley it meant that she saw hope ahead of being able to finish High School and perhaps go on to college. She went to sleep that night dreaming of the rosy future that she painted for herself.
"And I'll make it come true!" she declared, as she opened her eyes the next morning and found that the Shop and the bank account was not all a dream.