“I think girls are a mean lot,” Harold said, indignantly, when he was told of this. “I’d trust a fellow more than that. I’d know what he was going to do with his money, or whether he was going to spend it in some selfish way, before I talked that way.”
“Maybe a boy would,” returned Mabel. “Anyhow, Harold, it’s a great comfort to have you here, or else I might give up, and take the money to the girls, after all. Mamma said I must do just what seemed to me right.”
“Don’t you give it to them,” said Harold, fiercely. “You just hold out, no matter what they say. I’ll take you to the lawn party.”
“Oh, Harold!” Mabel was deeply grateful for this offer. “I think it’s lovely for you to say that, but I don’t believe I shall want to do that. I’ll just wait till I’ve got the book, and then I’ll save up and send my money to the orphans. Mamma will do it for me. She can send it straight to the ladies who take care of the money and see that the orphans get some of it.”
Harold looked at her admiringly. “That’s fine,” he said; “I don’t believe I’d be as modest as that. I’d like to show off before those girls, and just flourish around at the lawn party, if I had money to spend.”
“I should, too,” returned Mabel, “but, somehow, I don’t think I ought to, after what I did to the book.”
“I tell you what,” said Harold, “the thing we ought really to do, is to hunt up red flags, and auctions, and go for them whenever we can; there’s no telling what we might find.”
To this Mabel agreed, but the chances were few and far between, and they began to think theirs an impossible quest.
One day, to be sure it was after Mabel had saved up a full five dollars by dint of all sorts of sacrifices and helpings, the two entered a house where a sale was going on, chief among the articles to be sold being a choice library. There was a catalogue of the books, and over this the children pored, till Harold exultantly exclaimed, “There it is Mabel!” And sure enough, the title was printed in full. They waited nervously till the bidding began. Certain books were sold singly; the rest in lots; among the first was the one on which Mabel had set her heart. When it was put up for sale, the first offer was two dollars, and Harold, with his heart in his mouth, cried: “Three!” “Four!” came from another corner of the room. “Five!” said Harold, with a quick glance at Mabel, who with very red cheeks, and parted lips, stood by his side. “Six!” the word came that shattered their hopes, and then the book was run up to fifteen dollars, the buyer passing quite near to the children, exclaiming to a friend: “It’s a bargain, Nevins; I wouldn’t take fifty dollars for it.”
Fifty dollars! So it was a hopeless matter after all. No wonder her father had been so displeased at the destruction of his property, thought Mabel. The two small figures left the place almost immediately.