Billie Bradley and Her Classmates: or, The Secret of the Locked Tower
When they had reached the outside world once more, Billie blew out the candle, threw it into the cave, and readjusted the twigs at the entrance as best she could.
Then she ordered Nick Budd to lead the way back to the Hall. This the simpleton did, although he sometimes staggered under the weight he carried and several times had to put his burden down.
But in spite of the delays and the cold, the return journey seemed short to the girls, for they were triumphantly happy and chattered like magpies all the way back.
“I’ve got my wrist watch! I’ve got my wrist watch!” crowed Connie over and over again till the girls got tired of hearing her and Laura asked her if she would mind changing her tune.
“And won’t the girls be surprised when we tell them what sleuths we are,” added Vi.
“Humph,” sniffed Laura. “Billie is the real detective. We’re only – what do you call ’em? – ‘also rans.’ We come in at the end and clap noisily.”
“Nonsense,” laughed Billie. “I couldn’t have done a thing without you girls. Look out,” she cried sharply, as Nick Budd stumbled and almost dropped his load. “If you should break that thing, Nick Budd, I’d murder you.” But this last was delivered in an undertone. The poor simpleton had troubles enough without being threatened.
“Oh,” giggled Laura, incorrigibly, “ain’t she the vicious thing?”
One would have thought that the girls had had about enough excitement that day, but it seemed that fate still held a little more in store for them.
They were coming up the winding path that led to the Hall when they saw a black-clad figure that looked strangely familiar hurrying on before them.
“Isn’t that Polly Haddon?” asked Vi, eagerly. “Yes, it is. Oh, what luck!”
She was about to call out, but Billie stopped her.
“We’ll want to break it to her gently,” she warned, but her warning came too late. Polly Haddon had heard their voices and had glanced back indifferently.
Then, recognizing the girls, she turned and came hurrying toward them. At sight of her, Nick Budd dropped his burden in the snow and ran for all he was worth back the way he had come.
Billie tried to put herself between Polly Haddon and that bulky object in the snow, but once more she was too late. For the woman had seen.
With a little cry, Polly Haddon crumpled suddenly and lay out in the snow, as inert as a bundle of old clothes.
“Good gracious!” cried Laura frantically. “Now just when everything is beautiful and lovely, she’s gone and died!”
CHAPTER XXV – PRETTY FROCKS
But Polly Haddon had not died. One very seldom does – of happiness. Some way the girls managed to get her inside the Hall and administer hot drinks and hot food and in a surprisingly short time she was herself again.
Not quite herself, for she was beautified and transfigured with happiness into a very different Polly Haddon from the one the girls had known.
Miss Walters was summoned and made her come into her own private rooms. Of course the girls went also, and while Mrs. Haddon was stretched luxuriously on a couch in Miss Walters’ sitting-room, Billie told how she had frightened the simpleton into confessing his guilt and restoring the stolen goods.
Billie was so modest about her leading part in the affair that Laura was forced to interrupt occasionally, and, disregarding Billie’s frowns, add a bit of explanation here and there that enabled her audience to visualize the thing just as it had happened.
The machinery model had been brought inside and deposited in one of the study halls, and now Miss Walters asked Mrs. Haddon what she wished done with it.
“We can keep it here for you, in the big school safe,” she suggested, “or we can have it carried over to your house, just as you wish.”
“Oh no, leave it here,” said Polly Haddon quickly. “I will notify that Philadelphia knitting company that the invention has been recovered, and if they still wish to buy it, it probably will not remain here long. Oh, how can I thank you all – ” her voice broke, and for a little while all of them felt a bit uncomfortable while Polly Haddon sobbed out her happiness and gratitude.
It was over at last, however, and the girls were free to go back to their dormitory and the curiosity of their friends.
Here, perched on the bed with Connie and Vi, Laura gave a graphic account of everything just as it had happened to a sympathetic audience of some twenty girls.
She rang Billie’s praises to such an extent that the poor girl tried to hide herself in an inconspicuous corner, only to be dragged forth into the limelight again by a couple of laughing and heartless maidens.
“You get up there where you belong,” cried one of them, shoving Billie up into the center of the bed which was already over-crowded with giggling girls. “Don’t you know that you’re a real, honest-to-goodness heroine?”
“And for the second time to-day,” drawled Rose Belser, her eyes fixed a little enviously upon Billie’s pretty, flushed face. “Wasn’t it enough to win the prize, without going and getting yourself in the limelightagain?”
Laura and Vi flushed angrily, for there was a little malice under the question. But Billie took it all good-naturedly.
“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose – not the last part, anyway,” she said.
“We know you didn’t, honey,” said Connie, ruffling Billie’s dark curls fondly. “You’re just naturally talented.”
“By the way,” asked Laura, after an interval of skylarking, “does anybody know what happened to Amanda?”
“She was suspended,” replied one of the girls.
“And I thought it was a pity she wasn’t expelled,” spoke up another.
“Poor Eliza!” drawled Rose. “I wonder what she will do without her master.”
“Does anybody know who won the second prize?” asked Laura carelessly.
“What a queer question to ask,” said Caroline Brant, who had been dreaming about the thesis she was going to write and had hardly heard a word of the conversation. “You did, of course!”
It took a little time for this to sink in, for Laura had long ago given up hope of winning a prize for herself. But when it did finally beat its way into her mind she straightway proceeded to turn the place upside down in her hilarity.
She found Billie’s sewing basket, dumped out its contents, and turned it upside down on her head for a crown.
Then she draped a bedspread about her shoulders, queen fashion, and two of her classmates caught up the dangling ends that formed a train.
Then they marched through the halls crying, “Way for the queen!” and gathering a crowd of giggling girls as they went.
“What’s it all about?”
“Queen indeed! Just look at her with that workbasket on her head!”
“They are having the sport because Laura took the second prize in that composition contest.”
“Oh, that’s it, is it? Well, I’m glad they showed up Amanda – and Billie Bradley certainly deserved the first prize.”
The merriment grew louder, and presently the crowd made Laura mount a stand and deliver what they called “an oration.”
“Tell us about making linen dusters for the Laplanders,” suggested one girl.
“Or overcoats for the heathens in Africa,” suggested another.
“Or how to make sponge cake from live sponges.”
“Or why Washington didn’t use submarines when his army crossed the Delaware.”
“I can talk but I can’t make a speech,” declared Laura. “In other words, I could say something if I could only frame my speech, properly – that is – ”
“If she could only get her tongue to working,” broke in Vi, and at this the assembled girls roared.
It was only when rumor said that Miss Walters was coming their way that the hilarious party broke up and scurried for home and safety.
“Take off that ridiculous thing,” cried Billie, jerking at the bedspread, herself weak from laughing. “And give me back my work basket, woman, before Miss Walters catches you and sends you after Amanda.”
“Goodness,” said Laura, meekly handing Billie her property, “do you think she would? It may suit Amanda fine to be suspended, but I’m more comfortable the way I am.”
And so the time wore on with studies and lessons and fun until the girls woke up one day to find that the summer holidays were almost upon them.
Mrs. Haddon had sold the knitting machinery model to the Philadelphia concern at a price that was a fortune to her.
The little white cottage had been remodeled and furnished prettily, and Polly Haddon had grown prosperous and handsome and oh, so happy.
But the most remarkable thing to the girls was the change in Mary and Isabel and Peter Haddon. The children, who had been such sorry little waifs in their poverty, had grown almost beautiful in the days of their prosperity. Polly Haddon’s pride in them and their pretty clothes was almost pathetic.
The North Bend girls and Connie were often visitors at the little cottage, and sometimes the boys went with them on their visits and were treated to a dinner of waffles and maple syrup that, to quote Chet, “would make an Indian’s hair curl.”
And now, as the girls realized how fast the time was flying, they conceived the idea of giving a party. Not a small party, but a real one with cake and ice-cream and snappers and everything.
“I wonder,” breathed Vi daringly, “if Miss Walters would mind if we should ask a few of the boys – just a very few, you know.”
“There would have to be enough to go around,” interposed Billie.
“I should say so!” said Connie with emphasis. “Especially as Billie is sure to have at least two of them. I want to dance with Teddy and Paul Martinson once or twice myself, my dear,” she said, eyeing the laughing Billie sternly.
“And I’m quite sure dear Rose will, too – especially Teddy,” murmured Laura, maliciously.
They found that Miss Walters was quite willing to let them have the party and the boys, too – provided the latter did not stay too late – and then the plans began in earnest.
They sent invitations to about twenty of the boys at the Academy and the invitations were accepted promptly and eagerly.
About two days before the great event, the girls decorated the two big sitting-rooms on the ground floor which Miss Walters had said they could use, and when they had finished no ballroom ever looked prettier – even the girls said so.
Then at last came the morning of the great day, then the afternoon and then – the evening – and time for the girls to dress.
They had brought out their best party frocks for the occasion and the closest chums had compared colors carefully so that they would be sure not to “clash.” Billie was to wear pale green net with a touch of pink, Laura light blue, Connie had chosen a lovely rose pink that went well with her fluffy fairness, and Vi had decided on golden yellow that made her look like a queen. Rose Belser was dressed in an expensive black frock that was far too old for her but that set off her dark prettiness admirably.
There was Nellie Bane in white, and a number of other girls were in pretty frocks of varied hues. All were flushed and laughing and excited, and their happiness made every one of them pretty.
“Oh, aren’t I beautiful?” cried Laura with engaging frankness as she pirouetted before the mirror. Then she turned to Billie and hugged her rapturously. “And you’re gorgeous, honey,” she cried. “I see where we don’t get even a boy apiece to-night.”
The boys arrived early. It was lucky that Billie could dance with only one boy at a time – or there might not have been “enough to go around.”
“I say, Billie,” Teddy cried once, waltzing her over into a corner and gazing at her wonderingly, “I never knew you could look like that. What is it, anyway? This green and pink thing?” lifting a piece of filmy net gingerly between his thumb and finger.
Billie looked up impishly in his face while one foot kept time with the music.
“Don’t ask me,” she said. “It’s because I’m so happy, I guess. Oh, come on, Teddy, let’s dance!”
It was some time later that the three classmates happened to find themselves together and alone.
“Desoited!” cried Laura dramatically. “Where’s yours, Billie?”
“Gone to get me some ice-cream,” said Billie.
“Wonderful,” cried Laura. “So has mine!”
“And mine!” added Vi.
They giggled happily for a minute and then Billie reached out and put an arm about each of her chums. She hugged them close, regardless of pretty frocks.
“Girls,” she said contentedly, “I think I’m the very happiest girl in the world.”
“Except me,” said Laura.
“And me!” echoed Vi. “And to think – ” she added, after they had contentedly watched the happy crowd for a few moments. “To think that in a few short weeks vacation will be here.”
“Well,” said Laura decidedly, “if we have any more fun this summer than we’ve had this winter, we’ll have to go some!”
“We shall indeed,” said Billie, happily.
THE END