“Too queer by far,” was the displeased answer.
“Oh, look!”
Eleanor had picked up the book from the seat. As she raised it, a slip of paper fluttered to the stone floor of the patio. Stooping, she gathered it in. Written on it in pencil was the single word: “Gracias.”
“It’s meant for ‘gracious,’ I guess,” puzzled Eleanor, “only it isn’t spelled correctly. I really believe it must have been that queer girl Bee saw who took the book. She’s honest, at least. She returned it. But why in the world did she write ‘gracious’ on that slip of paper? Here come the girls. May I tell them, Miss Martha?”
“Of course.”
Miss Carroll had seated herself on the bench, a decided frown between her brows. She did not in the least relish this latest performance on the part of the elflike stranger. The unexpected return of the book indicated that the odd little prowler was evidently, as Eleanor said, honest. Yet the fact remained that she was a prowler, which annoyed Miss Martha considerably.
“The lost is found!” Eleanor called triumphantly across the patio to the approaching trio of girls. “What do you think of this?”
She held up the book for them to see.
“Why, it is Auntie’s lost book, isn’t it? Where did it come from, Nellie?”
Patsy’s face registered a mystified surprise which was also reflected on the features of her companions.