Bobs, a Girl Detective

  CHAPTER XXI. A NEW ARRIVAL

  When Roberta reached home that day, she began to sniff, for the houseseemed to be pervaded with a most delicious aroma.

  "Ohee, fried chicken, if I guess aright!" she thought. The front roombeing vacant, she skipped down the long, wide hall and pounced into thesunny combination kitchen and dining-room. Lena May smiled over hershoulder to greet the newcomer. She was busy at the stove preparing thenoon meal. Gwendolyn, made comfortable on a pillowed reclining chair, waslying in the sunshine near the blossoming window-box. She also smiled,though she was too weak and weary to speak. Bobs kissed her tenderly andthen inquired: "Say, Lena May, why all this festiveness? It isn'tanyone's birthday, is it?"

  "You know it isn't," their youngest replied as she stopped to open theoven door, revealing a tin of biscuits that were browning within. Then,rising, she added: "But, nevertheless, we are celebrating. You see, NurseKathryn ordered chicken broth for Gwen and, having made that, I decidedto fry the remaining pieces because we are going to have company forlunch."

  "Who, pray?" Bobs was removing her hat and coat as she spoke. Just thenGloria came in from the Settlement House and she inquired as she glancedabout: "Hasn't the company come?"

  "Not yet." Lena May looked at the old grandfather clock. "It lacks twominutes of being noon. They will be here promptly at twelve."

  "I do believe that you are all trying to arouse my curiosity," Bobs said."Well, the deed is done, so fire ahead and tell me who is to be thevictim?"

  "Victim, indeed." Lena May tossed her curly head with pretendedindignation. "I have nine minds not to give you a single piece of thisdelicious fried chicken because of that--that----"

  Bobs helped her out. "Slam on, your cooking is what you really mean, butof course you can't use slang, not even in a pinch. But, I say, is ourhonored guest fine or superfine?"

  Gloria and Lena May exchanged amused glances. It was the former whoreplied: "The guest of honor is to be a young gentleman, and, as to hisidentity, you may have three guesses."

  This had always been their method of telling each other interesting news.

  "Dick De Laney isn't in town, is he?" Roberta inquired in somatter-of-fact and little interested a manner that again Gloria realizedthat her sister did not greatly care for the lad who had loved her sincethe pinafore days.

  "Not that I've heard of," Lena May said. "Now you may guess again." Butbefore this could be done, the heavy knocker on the front door wasannouncing the arrival of someone, and Gloria went to answer its summons.

  Bobs skipped over to the stove as she said hurriedly, "Tell me quicklywho is coming, so that I may be prepared."

  "Nell Wiggin and her brother Dean," was the whispered reply. "He came inon the eleven-ten train. Nell went to meet him and I told her to bringhim over here to lunch. I thought it would be pleasant for both of them."

  "You're a trump," Bobs began, but paused, for Gloria was opening thedoor, saying, "Sisters, here are Nell and her brother Dean." Then to thetall, pale lad with the dreamy eyes she added: "This sister is Gwendolyn,who has been ill, and this is Lena May, fork in hand, symbolizing thefact that she is also our housekeeper. Roberta we call Bobs, for everyfamily has need of a boy and Bobsy has always done her best to fill therequirements."

  The lad, unused to girls, acknowledged these introductions rather shyly.Bobs, knowing that he was conscious of his muscle-bound left arm, whichhe could not move, said at once in her merry, nonsensical manner: "If somany sisters won't frighten you, Dean, I'll retire from the role ofbrother and let you fill it." Then she added, "I'm not going to call youMr Wiggin. It is too formal."

  The lad flushed in his effort to reply, but Lena May saved him fromfurther embarrassment by saying, "Nell, you and your brother may sit oneither side of Gloria. Bobsy, will you serve the chicken? Gwen had herbroth at eleven, so she isn't hungry just now."

  Realizing that the lad who had lived only on remote New England farmswould rather listen than talk, Bobs monopolized the conversation in herusual breezy manner, and often when she glanced his way she noted thatthe soft brown eyes of the lad were smiling as though he were muchamused. But after lunch she spoke to him directly. "Dean," she said,"your sister tells me that you love books."

  "Indeed I do," the boy replied, "but I have seen very few and have ownedonly one."

  "My goodness!" Bobs exclaimed. "Come with me and I will show you severalhundred."

  "Several hundred books," the lad gasped, quite forgetting hisself-consciousness in his astonishment at this amazing remark.

  Bobs nodded mysteriously as she led the way to the room overhead, wherein the dim light Dean beheld old books in dusty piles everywhere about.

  There was a sudden glow of pleasure in the eyes of the boy which toldBobs that he was indeed a booklover. "What a treat this will be," heexclaimed, "if I may browse up here when I wish." Then he added as a newthought presented itself: "But, Miss Roberta, I must not spend my time inidle reading. I want to find some way to earn money." Eagerly, anxiously,his eyes turned toward her. "Can you suggest anything that I might beable to do?"

  For one panicky moment Bobs' thoughts groped wildly for some professionthat a one-armed lad might follow, then she had what she believed was awonderful inspiration, and she said with her usual head-longimpulsiveness: "I do, indeed, know just the very thing. You and I willstart an old book shop and you may be manager."

  The lad's pale face flushed with pleasure. "Do you really mean it, MissVandergrift?" he asked eagerly. "How I would like that."

  In her characteristic manner Bobs wanted to settle the matter at once,and so she tripped downstairs with Dean following.

  She found that Gwendolyn had gone back to bed and that the kitchen havingbeen tidied, the three girls were sitting about the fireplace talkingsoftly together. When they heard Bobs' inspiration, they all thought it asplendid plan, and Nell said that there was a vacant room adjoining theoffice of the model tenement that she had been told she might use in anyway that she wished. As there was a door opening upon the street, shebelieved it would be an ideal place for an old book shop.

  Rising, Nell continued: "I will telephone Mrs. Doran-Ashley at once to besure that she is still willing that I use the room as I desire."

  This was done, and that most kindly woman in her beautiful home onRiverside Drive listened with interest to the plan and gave thepermission that was requested. Moreover, upon leaving the telephone shemade a note in her engagement book: "At the next board meeting suggestthat a visit be made to the old book shop in the model tenement."

  When Nell returned with the information that they might do as they wishedwith the room, Bobs and Dean went at once to a lumber yard near the docksand ordered the shelves they would need. An hour later Antovich andseveral of his boy companions had carried the old books from thePensinger mansion and had heaped them upon the floor of the pleasantvacant room, which opened directly upon the sidewalk on Seventy-eighthStreet.

  When Bobs left, Dean was busy with hammer and nails and happier, perhaps,than he had been in the twenty years of his life.