“And who’s gonter buy it? We don’t want any of the Ryeville women in on this,” said Colonel Crutcher.
“I got another idee,” said Pete. “Let’s get the motormen to get their wives down at the other end to shop for us. I was talkin’ to one only this mornin’ an’ he said Miss Judy cooked the best dinner he ever et an’ I’m pretty sure they’d be glad to help us out.”
“But they might help us out too gaudy like.”
“Gee, they couldn’t go wrong if we told them it must be white—white with a blue sash.”
“I’d like it to be white tarlatan or something thinnish and gauzy like and kind of stand-outy without being stand-offish.”
“And I think a few gold beads, kind of trimming it up, would be becoming to our debutante.”
“And we ought to get her slippers and stockings to match.”
“How about the size?”
That was a stumper until Pete Barnes had another idee, and that was that old Otto Schmidt, the trusty shoe repairer of Ryeville, might know. He did. In fact, even then he had a pair of Judith’s shoes to be half soled.
“She’s schlim and long,” said Otto, “five and a half touble A.” 130