"What is it?" she asked sleepily.
"It was just sent up from the office. And it's marked important." Granny sounded important as she showed Tessie the word scrawled on the envelope. "I thought perhaps it might be something about that special representative. Maybe he has escaped from those rebels!" suggested Granny, eager to know what was inside the letter which was so important on the outside. "Really, Tessie, when I think of those Sons of Sunshine I wish Johnny was here instead of at that Boy Scout camp. I've got more confidence in a good strong American boy than I have in all the frizzle-headed, tattooed natives in the world! Even if they do carry axes in their hand."
Tessie scarcely heard Granny. She had opened the letter, but something in the black writing made her face turn white.
"What is it, Tessie?" Granny caught her shoulder. "Tell Granny what it is? Drat that Pete!" she murmured under her breath. "I wish he had run away with a circus, instead of to sea to be washed up on that island and make trouble for us all."
"It's—it's from that Mr. Pracht!" gulped Tessie. "And he says I can have until night to make up my mind to sell the islands. And he says he forgot to say that sometimes usurpers are sent to live in a leper colony. I don't want to be a leper, Granny!" And she clung to the strong hands which had reached out to clasp her.
"There, there, my lamb!" crooned Granny. "Of course you don't! And you shan't be a leper! You leave it to Granny, and get up and get dressed so you'll be ready for what comes. And that Pracht might as well understand that he's going the wrong way. He can't scare a Gilfooly. Maybe he can surprise 'em, but he can't scare 'em! Look at your Uncle Pete! Died a king! All the rebels in six cannibal islands didn't scare him a mite! If those Sunshine Islands are worth buying, they're worth holding on to until we know more about them. You just write this Pracht man a letter and tell him you aren't selling any islands to-day. Perhaps then he'll offer more," she added shrewdly.
"I don't care what he offers, he can't buy my islands!" exclaimed Tessie, gathering courage from Granny's proud boast that a Gilfooly was not to be frightened. "A queen can't resign her job unless her people ask her to, and Mr. Pracht isn't one of my people. He's a Pennsylvania German. He said so."
"That's it! That's it!" declared Granny, delighted to see that Tessie's white face had turned pink again. "You just put that in the letter! What we got to do, Tessie Gilfooly, is to find out why he wants to buy those islands, and then we'll know more about selling them."
Tessie slipped into her gorgeous negligée of pink georgette and lace, thrust her feet into pink satin mules, and sat at her desk to write to Mr. Pracht that she would never think of selling her islands to anybody, that she hoped he would say no more about it. As for leper colonies and shark's oil, she was not afraid. She was a Gilfooly, of the same blood as King Pete, and the Gilfoolys were not afraid of anything or anybody.
"That's right!" indorsed Granny, who was looking over Tessie's shoulder. "They aren't!"