“Clever, very clever!” she said aloud. Josie had a habit of talking to herself when left alone. “Clever as to story but the author is afraid to draw characters with any clearness for fear of giving away his plot. If the characterization is good then the characters must act according to the way such persons are bound to behave and so the secret is out long before the book has reached its climax. A detective tale leaves one in doubt right to the end, as to who has done the direful deed. That is because the folks in the books are like so many paper dolls, as far as being real people is concerned—painted on one side with no innards.”
The girl read on and on. The shop was quiet, with that abnormal stillness that settles on the business section of a town after business hours. As it was Christmas Eve and business is not over on that day until midnight, this extreme quiet meant that the hour had struck and it was really the dawn of Christmas Day. Still Josie read on.
“It’s my one excess and I’m going to indulge in it since Christmas comes but once a year,” she announced to the accusing ship’s clock over the mantel as it chimed out “eight bells.” She mended the fire with a large lump of coal from the hod and settled herself again.
CHAPTER VI
PHILIP IS KIDNAPED
The detective story ended, as all good detective stories do, with the mystery solved, the criminals brought to justice and the most unlikely person in it rounded up as the villain.
“Good enough, but I could write a better one if I had time and paper and knew how to write,” yawned Josie.
Suddenly the telephone bell broke the stillness. It made Josie, the dauntless, jump.
“Stuff and nonsense—this time o’ night! I’ve a great mind not to answer it. I bet it’s somebody playing a joke on me and when I take down the receiver will just say, ‘Christmas gift!’”
The ringing persisted and Josie grumblingly called, “Well? Higgledy Piggledy Shop! Miss O’Gorman at the ’phone!”