“It can’t be Alice!” said Elsa, following Betty to the window.
“It’s the Holts’ hired man, grinning from ear to ear, and Alice with him,” insisted Betty. “She has just jumped out of the sleigh.”
The bell rang, and in a surprisingly short time Sarah appeared at the library door, trying hard not to burst out laughing; for behind her came Ben, very red in the face, dressed in a brown sailor-suit of Alice’s, and looking so sheepish and so comical that Miss Ruth joined in the general laugh, and Sarah went off chuckling, with her white apron up to her face.
“Peggy felt so bad because she couldn’t come that I put on one of her old dresses over my own clothes, just for fun, to make her laugh,” said Ben, hanging his head, but marching bravely into the room.
“I shouldn’t think you’d want to wear girls’ clothes and come to a girls’ Club,” said Betty teasingly.
“Girls are all right, most of the time,” Ben answered. “They’re too afraid of their clothes to be as nice as boys, all the time. This is awful tight; mother said she knew something would happen to it;” he was still very red in the face.
Something had happened already, for one of the sleeves had partly ripped from the blouse waist. Noticing this, Ruth Warren noticed also a tumultuous movement under the blouse, suggestive of sobs. But Ben’s smiling, ruddy face showed no signs of grief. A half-moment later, a tiny, furry head with bright bead-like eyes, looked out above the blouse collar.
In her usual tone Miss Ruth said: “I see you have brought one of your pets with you, Ben.”
Ben made a quick movement, but not quick enough to prevent a gray squirrel from springing out of his attempted grasp, upon the window-sill.
Elsa jumped, and Betty cried: “Ben Holt! How mean of you! Poor little squirrel!”