“Zoology classes, Attention!” it ran. “The ploshkin is as instructive as the grasshopper, and you should lose no time in observing its anatomy. To be had, without the trouble of catching it in the Bay, at the Tally-ho Tea-Shop. Order early.”
“The name and that senseless touch about the Bay will get them,” Mary declared, and went home to tell George Garrison Hinsdale all about it. So the secret drawer stood open all day long—for Betty, who would have noticed it, had had an exasperating struggle with the stove, on top of a particularly irritating time over the carriage lamps, and went home early with a headache, leaving a message for Eugenia, who still insisted upon coming for lessons. Madeline found the drawer, when she was straightening up the tea-room for the night, and shut it in hot haste. For what is the use of having a secret drawer at all if you leave it wide open all day for every one to look at?
CHAPTER XII
A TRAGIC DISAPPEARANCE
“I think we ought to send for Babbie,” declared Madeline Ayres a day or two later.
“To talk ploshkin?” asked Betty. The ploshkin project was still, to Mary’s great disgust, being discussed pro and con.
“Yes,” assented Madeline, “and to have a say about our keeping the tea-room open for dinners. Also, and most important of all, to save Young-Man-Over-the-Fence from an early grave.”
“Oh, yes, we ought to decide right away about the bill for his party,” agreed Betty innocently. “At least, we have decided, haven’t we, that it was too much fun to take pay for? But we ought to let him know.”
“Yes, we undoubtedly ought, but Babbie hasn’t a thing to do with that party,” Madeline reminded her.
“That’s so. Then what——” Betty had a sudden inkling of Madeline’s meaning. “Do you think he’s really interested in Babbie?” she demanded. “Because Babbie doesn’t like him, and she perfectly hates having men fall in love with her.”
“She says she does, you mean,” corrected Madeline, “and perhaps she even thinks she does. But she doesn’t. No girl does, if the man is worth anything. I like Young-Man-Over-the-Fence myself, probably because he’s so optimistic about my literary ability, and I’m sorry I queered him with Babbie by my premature announcement of his devotion. I don’t know how I can help matters now, though.”