The sunbonnet was tucked into the jar, and the little girls felt perfectly sure that no one would suspect the presence of money under it.
“It does look put there careless-like, doesn’t it?” repeated Letty.
She liked to use those words which she had borrowed from Annie the cook. Many times had she heard Annie say, “I think I’ll toss off a pudding, careless-like, for dinner,” or, “I’ll give the room a little dusting, careless-like, before your mother comes home,” and she admired the turn of expression.
At noon that day, on his way home to luncheon, Mr. Spargo was warmly greeted by Letty and Susan halfway down the block and escorted to his own door. Upon Letty’s whispering in his ear, he slipped two ten-cent pieces into her hand.
“One for each of you,” said he, good-naturedly tweaking Letty’s nose, red in the sharp November wind.
When he came out an hour or so later, he was in a hurry, and in answer to Letty’s murmur he dropped a handful of small coins into her outstretched palm, and hastily departed without waiting for the chorus of thanks that followed him down the street and round the corner.
“Four pennies, two fives, and a quarter. As sure as I live, a quarter!” counted Letty. “Oh, Susan, Susan!” And flinging their arms about one another, the little girls hopped joyously about until Susan tripped and went down in a heap.
The girls found it hard to keep away from the little holly jar. The money was taken out and counted over and over each time the nursery was found unoccupied save by placid Johnny, who innocently played with his shabby Lolly or ran unsteadily about the room, bumping down and picking himself up undisturbed.
“Only to-day, and then to-morrow is the Fair,” said Letty the next morning. “We must be sure not to miss Father at noon.”
But to-day, of all days, Mr. Spargo did not come home to luncheon at all. He and Mr. Whiting were both busy with the mysterious “case” at Banbury Court-House.