Tavia almost fell over Ned. Dorothy grasped the door. The maid ruffled up her nice white apron!
They all scrambled into the living room and there was more, for with them, in fact, in Ned’s strong arms, was a child, a boy with blazing cheeks and defiant eyes.
“Look, mother! He came up on the dumb waiter!” said Ned, as soon as he could speak.
“Yes, and I nearly killed him,” blurted Tavia. “I thought the place was haunted!”
“On the dumb waiter?” repeated Dorothy.
The maid nodded her head decidedly.
“Why!” ejaculated Mrs. White, sitting up very straight.
“I didn’t mean anything,” said the boy, reflecting good breeding in choice of language, if not in manner of transportation. “I was just coming up to fly kites.”
“But on the dummy!” queried Ned.
“Well, we wouldn’t dare come up any other way. This apartment was not rented before and we had to sneak in on the janitor. This is the best lobby for kites,” and his eyes danced at the thought.