“The old skinflint won’t miss it as much as I would a penny,” declared our faithful handmaiden. “And I’m sure you’ve earnt that twenty-five thousand if anyone ever did. You’ve had as much care and worry about them brats as you would if they’d been your own.”
“Huldah,” I said severely, “there is a pretty stiff penalty for obtaining money under false pretences.”
“After all the pains we took to make things lively for him, so he wouldn’t get bored and think he was having a poor time!” regretted Pythagoras.
“And us watching every word we spoke so as not to give it away,” wailed Emerald.
“Cake’s all dough,” muttered Demetrius.
Ptolemy regarded the three disapprovingly. He had the old inscrutable look, the look that foreboded mischief, in his eyes.
“You bungled, you fool kids!” he said in disgust, “and Huldah, what did you want to let on to mudder for that he thought we was hers? You ought to have torn up the note he left and just said he’d put twenty-five thousand in the bank for her.”
“Huh! you’re just jealous because you weren’t in the Uncle Izzy deal yourself,” jeered Pythagoras. “You always think you’re the only one that can do anything right.”
“I wish you had been here, Polly,” said Huldah, “I am sure you could have worked it through somehow.”