“I wonder,” she said, “how they have ever managed to get along up to this time. They must have had something to live on.”
“Why,” said Vi, wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully, “the doctor said something about Mrs. Haddon having to give up her work because of ill health. Didn’t he, Laura?”
“Yes,” said Laura, stuffing her hands deeper into her pockets. “He seems dreadfully sorry about poor little Peter. I heard him mumble something about troubles always coming in a heap.”
“Oh,” said Billie, with a big long sigh, “if somebody could only stumble across those inventions someway or other! Then we could all be happy again.”
For a moment her classmates stared at Billie blankly. They had all but forgotten about the invention. Somehow, Mrs. Haddon’s tale of a nearly won fortune had seemed unreal and vague to them—almost like a fairy story. And now here was Billie bringing it all up again and even talking about finding that knitting machine model!
“If it doesn’t always take you to think up impossible things, Billie Bradley,” said Vi.
“Just the same,” Laura spoke up unexpectedly, “you must admit that lots of times Billie has done what we would think was impossible to do.”
“Goodness, have you got ’em, too?” asked Vi, with a giggle. “We all know Billie’s a wonder, but I don’t think she is going to find an invention that has been missing for a long time. Probably it wouldn’t be any good, anyway. All rusted and everything.”
“That wouldn’t make any difference,” Billie pointed out promptly. “As long as they had the model to copy from they could make any number of new machines just like it.”
“All right, rave on, Macduff!” cried Laura, who was just beginning to read Shakespeare and who annoyed the other girls by insisting upon quoting him—incorrectly—upon all occasions. “If you can find this old thing and get a fortune out of it for Mrs. Haddon and the kiddies and twenty thousand nice little dollars for yourself, honey, nobody’ll be gladder than me.”