“Ho! I don’t believe it is duty you are saving, as much as indulging in perverseness by not donning one of your most fetching gowns,” declared Eleanor.
“Maybe it is,” said Polly, smiling tantalizingly at her chum. “Perhaps I want to keep the freshness of them for someone in New York, eh?”
“Certainly! He will be there to meet you, sure thing!” laughed Eleanor.
At that, Dorothy drew Eleanor aside and, when Polly was not looking, whispered eagerly: “Do tell me who he is?”
But Eleanor laughingly shook her head and whispered back: “I dare not! That is Polly’s secret!”
But she did not add for Dorothy’s edification, that try as she would, she (Eleanor) had never been able to make Polly confess whether she preferred one swain to another. As Eleanor considered this a weakness in her own powers of persuasion, she never allowed anyone to question her that far.
Had anyone of the four girls dreamed of who the sender of the wireless was, what a buzzing there would have been! Eleanor Maynard would have been so pleased at the possibility of a romance, that she would have acted even more tantalizing, in Polly’s opinion, than she had been of late months.
Perhaps you are not as well acquainted with Polly and her friends, however, as I am, and it would be unkind to continue their experiences for your entertainment, until after you are duly informed of how Polly happened to leave her home in Oak Creek and also what had passed during the Summer in Europe.
Polly Brewster was born and reared on a Rocky Mountain ranch, in Colorado, and had until her fourteenth year, never been farther from her home than Oak Creek, which was the railroad station and post office of the many ranchers of that section.
Eleanor Maynard, the younger daughter of Mr. Maynard who was a prosperous banker of Chicago, accompanied her sister Barbara and Anne Stewart, the teacher, when they spent a summer on the ranch. Their thrilling adventures during the first half of that summer are told in the book called “Polly of Pebbly Pit,” the first volume of this series.