“How much will you charge a fellow if he wants to consult your books?” asked Bob. “There is no library worthy of the name in Dorfield and when I want something very badly I am up against it.”
“Persons are supposed to ask us for information and we do the searching,” explained Josie.
“But that wouldn’t suit me at all. I like to see for myself and one bit of information suggests the advisability of another, and so on. I could spend days with your various encyclopedias just on this one article I am getting up for the Sunday supplement.”
“What is your article on?”
“Criminology! Gee, but I’d like to peek into that notebook of your father’s!” sighed Bob, who took his profession of expert reporter and writer of special articles very seriously.
Josie beckoned to Elizabeth and retiring to the back of the shop the girls held a short consultation. Coming forward, Josie said to Bob:
“My partner and I are going to make an exception in your favor, feeling as we do very grateful to you and all of Danny Dexter’s friends for their kindness to us in launching us so beautifully on our shop-keeping venture. We are going to let you come and consult our books whenever you feel like it. We’d rather not have them taken home unless it is something you find you can’t possibly finish up here in the shop.”
“But how splendid of you! I don’t deserve such a favor. I did nothing but lift bath tubs and things. I can’t accept such kindness, though, unless you let me pay regular rates for what information I pick up.”
“We are not so mercenary as all that,” said Josie, “besides we may need your muscles sometimes and would not know how to pay for them. Let’s call it a draw—fifty-fifty. We might even leave you here sometimes to keep shop for us if you’ll be good.”
“Good! I’d take in the fancy work especially well,” laughed Bob. “I hate to seem greedy, but while I’m poking among your books may I peek in the wonderful notebook?”