Carol hoisted Katy up on his shoulders to see if she could see anything but she lacked about a foot of reaching the top of the partition. Carol whistled to Ernest to come, but at this moment a voice called up from the foot of the stairs, “Ship ahoy!”
“It’s Dick Harding, I do believe!” exclaimed Chicken Little, and she flew down to investigate, closely followed by Gertie.
It was Dick Harding, resplendent in blue overalls and an old cap.
“I met your father down street and he told me what the clan was up to. This is a business I am mightily interested in, so I asked if I might come, too. How do you like my regimentals?”
Mr. Harding surveyed his blue overalls proudly. He followed the little girls upstairs and listened to Ernest’s report of their progress.
“Suppose you and I try that. I am taller than Carol and I think I could boost you high enough to get a look round. Got a light?”
They called to Carol and Katy to come out. Carol was quite ready to yield the place of honor.
“Gee, it’s hot and stuffy in there!” he groaned, fanning himself with an old shoe he had picked up from the floor of the closet.
“You’re so awful fat, Carol. I didn’t mind it,” said Katy frankly.
“Fat nothing—a shadow would smother in there. Your face looks red where it ain’t black, which is pretty much all over,” retorted Carol nettled. He didn’t enjoy being called fat.