But I went to bed finally. Just as I was dozing off, somebody opened my
door, and I heard a curious scraping along the floor. I turned on the
light, and there was Arabella, half-dragging and half-carrying a solid
silver hand-mirror with a card on it: "To Minnie, to replace the one
that blew up. J. S."
CHAPTER XXVII
A CUPBOARD FULL OF RYE
Doctor Barnes came to me at the news stand the next morning before
gymnasium.
"Well," he said, "you look as busy as a dog with fleas. Have you heard
the glad tidings?"
"What?" I asked without much spirit. "I've heard considerable tidings
lately, and not much of it has cheered me up any."
He leaned over and ran his fingers up through his hair.
"You know, Miss Minnie," he said, "somebody ought kindly to kill our
friend Thoburn, or he'll come to a bad end."
"Shall I do it, or will you?" I said, filling up the chewing-gum jar.
(Mr. Pierce had taken away the candy case.)
Doctor Barnes glanced around to see if there was any one near, and
leaned farther over.
"The cupboard isn't empty now!" he said. "Not for nothing did I spend
part of the night in the Dicky-bird's nest! By the way, did you ever
hear that touching story about little Sally walking up and laying an
egg?--I see you have. What do you think is in the cupboard?"
"I know about it," I said shortly. "Liquor--in a case labeled
'Books--breakable.'"
"'Sing a song of sixpence, a cupboard full of rye!'" he said. "Almost
a goal! But not ONLY liquors, my little friend.
Pages:
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216