“You’re a lucky girl!” cried Freckles, Mary Louise’s young brother. “Wish I was old enough to take the job!”
“You couldn’t take this one, Son,” his father reminded him, “because it’s a woman’s job. A man would be out of place in a woman’s hotel. But Mary Lou can go about unnoticed—people will think she’s just a guest.”
“Twenty-five bucks a week!” repeated Freckles. “What are you going to do with all that money, Sis?”
“I don’t know. Wait and see if I earn it. But if I do, we’ll all have something nice out of it.”
“I wasn’t asking for it!” protested the boy.
“No, I know you weren’t. But wait, and we’ll see.” She turned to her mother. “The Detweilers haven’t heard a thing from Margaret, Mother. Not since they received a box last Christmas from Philadelphia. But I promised to try to hunt her up for them.”
“Oh, I feel so sorry for them!” exclaimed Mrs. Gay. “I do hope that nothing has happened to Margaret.”
“So do I. But, anyhow, that will give me two jobs in Philadelphia.”
“Yes,” agreed her father, “and you can give that as your reason for being in Philadelphia—to the other guests at the hotel—if you care to.”
“That’s an idea,” said Mary Louise. “And maybe this is the more important of the two. I’m sure Margaret Detweiler is more precious to her grandparents than money and valuables to the women at that hotel.”