"Listen to that!" crowed Amy, in delight.
"But do tell us about the island, child," urged Nell Stanley, likewise interested.
"A man came to Cousin Bertha's house, where we live with her uncle. His name is Blair, too; it isn't Haney. Well, this man said: 'Are you Padriac Haney's little girl?' And I told him yes, that I wasn't grown up yet like Bertha. And so he asked a lot of questions of Mr. Blair. They was questions about my father and where he was married to my mother, and where I was born, and all that."
"But where does the island come in?" demanded Amy.
"Now, don't you fuss me all up, Miss Amy," admonished the child. "Where was I at!"
"You was at the Norwood place. I brought you," said young Shannon.
"Don't you think I know that?" demanded the little girl scornfully. "Well, it's about Padriac Haney's great uncle," she hastened to say. "Padriac was my father's name and his great uncle—I suppose that means that he was awful big—p'r'aps like that fat man in the circus we saw. But his name was Padriac too, and he left all his money and islands and golf courses to my father. So it is coming to me."
"Goodness!" exclaimed Nell Stanley. "Did you ever hear such a jumbled-up affair?"
But Montmorency Shannon nodded solemnly. "Guess it's so. Mrs. Foley was telling my mother something about it. And Spot—I mean, Hen, must have fallen heiress to money, for she give me a whole half dollar to drive her over here," and his grin appeared again.
"What I want to know is the name of the island, child?" demanded Amy, recovering from her laughter.