Nancy Brandon

  CHAPTER VII

  THE SPECIAL SALE

  They had worked like slaves, according to Nancy, while Ted insisted hewas too tired even to eat.

  "But it's going to be a grand success," promised Ruth. "I can hardlywait until morning for the doors to open."

  "Sale now going on!" chanted Isabel, a friend of Ruth's, who had come into help. "Ladies and gentlemen! Step this way for your fish lines!" shecalled out, testing the possibilities of the next day's special sale."Here's where you get your fish-hooks that never slip, and your tacklethat always tacks, and as for sinkers--"

  "You'll sink, first shot," Ruth interrupted, from her perch on thestepladder, where she was waving a Japanese lantern as if that flimsyarticle had anything to do with fishing tackle.

  "Oh say! Look here! Who took my best reel?" cried Ted. "I want that formyself. It was in a dollar box--"

  "Then it's got to be sold," called back Nancy. She was sitting on thecounter counting fish lines, a dozen to each box.

  "Sold nothing!" retorted Ted. "I'd like to know why I can't have thebest--"

  "You can, Teddy dear," Ruth told him. "You have been a perfect lamb tohelp us all afternoon, and I never did see two legs do more trottingthan yours have done since Nancy locked the front doors and put us allto work like prisoners. You may certainly have the reel, and there's awonderful pole back of the empty cigar boxes--there on that first shelf.See it? It's in a gray case--"

  "Ruth Ashley! Whose store is this?" Nancy pretended to be very severebut her jolly little laugh filtered through the words in giggles andtitters. "If you are going to give things away, why not start in withthe perishables? There's a basket of apples, Ted himself bought out ofthe general fund, and unless they can be sold as bait, I don't see whatwe're going to do with them." She had counted out all the fish lines andwas resting against the old-time candy glass case, now neatly filledwith post cards and stationery supplies.

  They had had a merry time getting the Whatnot Shop ready for the firstspecial sale, and girl-like, had expended a lot of energy upon prettyeffects in the arrangements of articles. Mrs. Brandon "chipped in" asTed expressed it, and Nancy was able to supplement her stockconsiderably. She had also made a very attractive poster for the bigfront window, in fact, it was so attractive that Ruth put another signright alongside of it which stated:

  This poster, handmade, for sale Price $2.00

  "We always sell our charity posters," she insisted, "and they are neveras pretty as this. Just look at that fish. What is he, Nancy? A cat-fishor a pickerel?"

  "I'm totally ignorant of the varieties," replied Nancy grandly. "But Ilike the flecks on his back so I made him up flecked."

  "The fellows will be here awfully early," Ted warned the girls, "so youbetter be ready to sell, quick as the door's opened."

  "We'll be here," sang out Ruth. "And Ted, be sure to tell them this is astrictly cash sale. No charging and no refunds. If you buy a fish poleand find it's a curtain rod you've got to go fishing with the curtainrod. Nancy, here's those fancy little colored bags to fool the poor fishwith. Where do you want them put? Some place very safe, for they'reeasily broken, you know," Ruth cautioned.

  "Right here in the show case," Nancy directed. "They're too cute to bestuck away on a shelf. Ted, you better run off and have some fun. Idon't want mother to think we've been stunting your growth. You know howparticular she is about exercise."

  "Exercise!" repeated Isabel. "As if the poor child hasn't beenstretching every muscle to its utmost all afternoon. Take my advice,Ted, and lie down. I'll make an ice bag out of an old bathing cap--"

  But Ted was not waiting to hear Isabel's kind, if foolish, offer. Hismerry shout as he rounded the corner, however, spoke decidedly againstice bags as well as couches.

  "Let's quit," suggested Nancy. "Honestly girls, I thought housework wastedious, but I can't see much difference. I believe I'll be winding fishlines all night, I've got them tangled in my brain."

  "Then you're the one for the ice bags," pronounced Isabel. "I love tomake them and I love to put them on pretty heads. Here Ruth, let's puther on the couch. I think she looks a bit feverish."

  Kicking and protesting Nancy was forced to get down from "her perch,"and stretch out on the little leather couch in a favorite corner of thesun porch. Then, while Ruth literally held her there, Isabel crackedice, put it in a green rubber bathing cap, that leaked like a sieve,tied it up most imperfectly, and presently clapped it on Nancy's head.

  "Oh, please! It's leaking! I'm all wet. Isabel, you're freezing my--mythinker!" yelled Nancy, as she struggled to free herself from herplayful companions.

  "That's the idea," replied Isabel. "We've got to freeze your thinker tomake you forget your fish lines. Here now, dearie," she mocked "lieperfectly still--"

  "You're spoiling my pretty new gown," yelled Nancy, referring to theoldest and most faded gown she could find that morning, in preparationfor the extra work.

  But Isabel held the bag in the general direction of Nancy's forehead,while little icy cold streams tinkled down her neck and into her ears.Ruth served as body guard, and almost kept Nancy on the couch, her feet,arms, and other "loose ends" hanging over untidily.

  The store bell was jerked suddenly and violently.

  "Oh me, oh my!" groaned Nancy, jumping up so as to smash the ice bag tothe floor, cut its string loose and send the remaining chunks of iceflying. "I can't go. Ruth, will you--"

  "Love to," chanted Ruth, starting off promptly.

  "Look at the puddle," bewailed Isabel, but Nancy interrupted her.

  "No one, simply no one can come in to-day. Do run out, Belle andrestrain Ruth. Just listen to her sweetest tones--"

  Isabel went. She liked to "'tend store" and each possible customerrepresented to her, as well as to Ruth, a possible adventure.

  "No, I'm not the proprietor," Nancy heard Ruth saying.

  "No, she really can't see you," was Isabel's contribution.

  A man's voice, full, rich, persuasive, was speaking in so low a tonethat his words did not convey meaning to the listening Nancy.

  She listened! She crept nearer, and finally realizing that both Ruth andIsabel were not being able to dismiss the stranger, she attempted toright her rumpled self, to pat the unruly hair into place, and notknowing that her forehead looked like a beefsteak from the ice freeze,she sauntered out into the store.

  "This is Miss Brandon," announced Ruth as she entered. "She is theproprietor."

  Nancy found herself in the presence of a very important looking youngman. His Panama hat was on the counter, his suitcase was on the floor,and he stood in the most attentive, courteous attitude, bowing as if shewere meeting him in a reception room.

  "I've heard of your store, Miss Brandon," he said. "In fact, its famehas travelled far and wide, and I'm here representing a Boston firm ofsporting goods. I would like you to see--"

  "Really," faltered Nancy, "this is only sort of a play store. We aredoing it for a vacation experience."

  "Exactly the thing," insisted the young man, who was not polite to thepoint of affectation but simply polite as a gentleman. "I know thisterritory pretty well, and you will possibly be surprised at the classof customers who will, doubtless, seek you out. The motor people comealong here from Gretna Lake. There's good fishing on that lake, andfishing supplies have a way of giving out suddenly when theinexperienced handle them. If you will let me--" he was tackling thesuitcase.

  "But you see," protested Nancy, much embarrassed, "I really have noauthority to--buy. Mother is not here--"

  "You assume no obligation," insisted the man. "As this is your store weare glad, in fact anxious, to leave you a sample line. If you sell themyou make a very fair commission, if you do not I pick them up and trysomething else on my next trip."

  He opened the case, and presently was displaying a bewildering line ofsuch fishing tackle and general sport supplies as Nancy had ne
verdreamed of. Ruth and Isabel were fascinated. They suggested, in spite oftheir better judgment, that Nancy stock up with the pretty little troutflies, the feathery kind tied to fish hooks. Then Ruth thought theyought to have at least one box of the dry flies, the sort that floatswithout the hook, and before they knew it the salesman had depositedupon the counter, goods worth so much money, that Nancy could only gaspat the transaction.

  "But I haven't any place--"

  "This little case, if I may suggest," said the salesman, "is admirablysuited. You could move your cards to the far end, couldn't you?"

  "Oh, yes," chimed in Ruth, "and Nancy, just see the lovely window card!"She was holding up a big folder that had been neatly packed in, foldedin sections, within the suitcase. "Why, it will be wonderful to havesuch goods, and I'm sure the summer folks from Breakneck Hill will justbuy us out as soon as they hear we have such splendid stuff."

  "I think you are right," replied the salesman. "But as you seemdoubtful, Miss Brandon, I'll return later and talk with your mother, ifyou wish."

  Nancy considered quickly. Her mother should not be annoyed with suchdetails; also, the special sale was to be a matter left entirely withthe girls and Ted. He was claiming and entitled to a share in certainarticles. So she answered:

  "I don't think that will be necessary. Mother won't object, I guess, ifI don't have to sign anything--"

  "Nothing whatever," she was assured.

  "But how did you find out about us?" asked Isabel. "This is such a tinystore and it is on the back road, really."

  "The tiny store on the back road with the quaint name Whatnot Shop ismore attractive than a big public place," replied the salesman. He hadhanded Nancy his card and she saw that his name was W. S. Webster. "As amatter of fact, one of our firm was passing here in his car, and he leftme the memorandum. But I've heard of the special sale of fishing tackleout on the Long Leigh road from perhaps a half dozen persons."

  The girls gasped, simultaneously. They were overwhelmed. If their famehad thus travelled afar, what would the day of the sale bring them?

  "Very well," stammered Nancy, trying once again to keep her wet dressout from her neck while she worried over the effect of that besprinkledgarment. "I'll be glad to do what I can with the goods, but really, Ihad no idea of going in for such, such important articles."

  "If you will let me say so," remarked Mr. Webster in a gentlemanly way,"I think you girls have the right idea. So many putter around with artstuff these days, that they don't realize the big chances they aremissing in business. Some of America's brainiest women are heads of ourwholesale firms, and they make more money than movie queens," hefinished pleasantly.

  When he was finally gone and the door well bolted this time, the threegirls joined hands and danced around like a kindergarten class.

  "Me for the movie queen!" sang out Isabel. "You, Nance and Ruthie, cansell fish hooks. Just watch this pose and see if I couldn't pass in abeauty contest--"

  There was a racket, a very noisy one, at the side door.

  "It's Ted!" exclaimed Nancy, apprehensively.

  "And he's got a crowd with him."

  "They can't come in," Nancy declared. "We are not going to show goods ortake any advance orders."

  "Oh me, oh my!" cried Ruth. "No wonder the fine looking drummer saidthat the brainiest girls in America were in business."

  "He didn't," contradicted Nancy. "He said women."

  "Very well, Nancy. Just you wait. Go sit down on a big stump in thewoods and wait. By and by you'll be a woman."

  Then, in spite of all their eloquence, in marched Ted heading a paradeof the "fellers." And what could Nancy do but show them thearrangements.