"If you had asked what you had lost I should know," she said coolly. "Your temper has evidently gone astray."
"I know I'm foolish to blaze up so suddenly," admitted Miss Billy; "but it's the injustice of the thing that made me hot. Mrs. Canary has just been telling me how much rent the Caseys paid for this house."
"How much was it?" inquired Beatrice. "Less than we are paying?"
"Fifteen dollars instead of twenty," said Miss Billy indignantly. "But of course I wouldn't say a word about it if old Mr. Schultzsky had made the repairs he promised. He hasn't lived up to his agreement at all. We paid for having the house painted; father furnished the screens; Theodore mended the gate, and I propped up the back fence, myself. That window upstairs is still broken, and when Ted reminded him of it he grunted and remarked that the cold weather was over. The doorbell is out of order, the step is broken, and that walk in front of the house is a disgrace to the world. The whole tottering skeleton of a house will fall in a heap some day. If we pay twenty dollars a month for rent, as we agreed, he is going to do the things he agreed to."
"How are you going to bring this law of equality about?" inquired Theodore.
Miss Billy hesitated. The conferences with the landlord in the past had not met with any visible amount of success. Still there were forces which had not as yet been brought to bear. Miss Billy decided quickly, as was her custom.
"What he needs is some one to tell him a few unvarnished truths," she said energetically. "Father is too easy to deal with him, and mother is too ladylike. I'm going to interview him myself."
"Billy the Bold!" exclaimed Theodore. "My heart swells with pride at your courage. Where and when is the interview to take place?"
"I don't know," said Miss Billy dubiously. "I don't believe he has an office, and I hate to go inside that mouldy old shell across the street. I have my suspicions about his living there, anyway. He looks as though he slept in that old buggy of his."
"You might advertise and arrange a meeting that way," suggested Theodore. "'Sprightly maiden of sixteen wishes to meet a scholarly and refined gentleman of sixty-five. Object, new sidewalk, and what may follow.'"