“Oh, I didn’t visit that time! I only stopped in with the girls to wait and see if Nancy had a map they all need. Now I’m going to visit,” explained Ruth.
Mrs. Ashby laughed at a girl’s interpretations of a call and Ruth ran out.
Their pretty heads were closely bending over the map, when Mr. Fabian passed the living-room door and stopped a moment to consider the picture they made under the soft-shaded light. He went on to his private den without saying a word to distract their attention from (as he thought) their books of learning.
“Now listen here, girls!” exclaimed Nancy, tracing a line on the map. “Polly doesn’t know much about this end of the United States, and Eleanor doesn’t know much more than Polly does but I am supposed to be well informed about Westchester County, having lived there when I was a little girl. So I can tell you something about this road I’ve traced.”
The four girls lifted their heads and listened eagerly.
“You know Dobb’s Ferry and its vicinity was there in the days of the Revolution, and Washington camped at that town. Even the Headquarters he occupied is to be seen as it was at that time. This road, running easterly from Dobb’s Ferry, is the old turnpike road used by the army as it marched towards the Hudson.
“Now this is what I say! Why shouldn’t there be lots of old houses along that road, or in that locality, that were there during Washington’s time? And if standing still, why shouldn’t there be old furniture, or odd bits, to be found in them?”
Eleanor instantly caught Nancy up on one of her phrases. “Naturally the houses would be standing still—you wouldn’t want them to be dancing a tango, would you?”
“Oh, pshaw, Nolla!” scorned Nancy, in disgust at such a poor attempt to joke, “you know, well enough, what I mean.”
The other girls laughed at Nancy, and Polly added: “Well, what is your plan?”