"Let's go peek in at the windows," suggested Mabel, springing up from the grass. "That much won't cost us anything at any rate."
Away scampered the four girls, taking a short cut through Bettie's back yard.
The cottage had been vacant for more than a year and had not improved in appearance. Rampant vines clambered over the windows and nowhere else in town were there such luxurious weeds as grew in the cottage yard. Nowhere else were there such mammoth dandelions or such prickly burrs. The girls waded fearlessly through them, parted the vines, and, pressing their noses against the glass, peered into the cottage parlor.
"What a nice, square little room!" said Marjory.
"I don't think the paper is very pretty," said Mabel.
"We could cover most of the spots with pictures," suggested practical Marjory.
"It looks to me sort of spidery," said Mabel, who was always somewhat pessimistic. "Probably there's rats, too."
"I know how to stop up rat holes," said Bettie, who had not lived with seven brothers without acquiring a number of useful accomplishments. "I'm not afraid of spiders—that is, not so very much."
"What are you doing here?" demanded a gruff voice so suddenly that everybody jumped.
The startled girls wheeled about. There stood Bettie's most devoted friend, the senior warden.