“Goodness, John!” she said. “What a dirty face you have, and your eyebrows are all cobwebby. Where in the world have you been, and what have you found?”
“I’ve found things up in the attic!” exclaimed John triumphantly. “Caliban showed me the way. It was all his doings. I think he did it on purpose—to help Mary.”
“To help Mary! What in the world do you mean?” cried Mrs. Corliss. “Have you found a treasure, John, or some more mysterious secrets?”
“Well, no, not exactly,” confessed John, somewhat crestfallen. “Unless we make it a secret. I’d like that. But I think it’s a nice surprise, Mumsie, and I think it will save some of Mary’s hundred dollars. Mother,—all the furniture belongs to you, doesn’t it?”
“Why, yes, Johnny,” she answered, wondering. “Why do you ask?”
“Because,” said John importantly, “I have been snooping around the attic, Mumsie, and I think there are a lot of things you can sell.”
“What kind of things do you mean, John?” she asked, looking interested.
“Why, you know, Mother,” said John, “there’s a lot of old truck in the corners up there that looks just like the stuff we used to see in the curiosity shops in the city. I didn’t look very far, Mumsie, ’cause it was so—well, so dirty in there. But there’s wheels and andirons and things that I bet are worth lots of money!”
“Are there, John?” said Mrs. Corliss. “How clever of you to think of it! I never dreamed of looking in Aunt Nan’s attic to find the way out of our difficulty. Perhaps this is the solution!”
“It’s Caliban’s idea,” said John, wishing to be fair and not to claim too much credit, but feeling well pleased with himself, just the same.