“O dear, I’m so hot!” cried Joel, seeing that there was to be no more “Old Father Dubbin,” no matter how he teased, “I’m going to get Mamsie’s fan. Can’t I, Polly?”
“Yes,” said Polly. It was Joel’s party and they’d had such a dreadful time,—and a sorry little look came into the brown eyes,—Mamsie surely would let him take it. So Joel dashed into the bedroom to get the big palm-leaf fan that was stuck into the frame of the looking glass over the bureau.
Then they heard a dreadful scream that brought Old Father Dubbin into the bedroom, and after him the two Henderson boys.
There was Joel, his black eyes wide with excitement, and swinging his arms. “A burglar!” he shouted, “I’ll catch him,” and he dashed to the window and jumped out.
Old Father Dubbin took one look all around; then flew over to the bed. There was the roll of soft old paper that had held Father Pepper’s grandmother’s gold beads, but empty. Polly dashed wildly out through the kitchen, flung the green door wide and rushed after Joel.
CHAPTER XXIV
GREAT-GRANDMOTHER PEPPER’S BEADS
“THERE’S the little brown house!” cried Davie, just as if he had never seen it. “And Joel has had a party!” all in the same breath.
“Joel has had a party,” hummed Phronsie in Mrs. Brown’s lap, “a beyewtiful party,” her pink sunbonnet flying back with the jolts of the old white horse over the rough road.
Mrs. Pepper’s eyes grew suddenly bright. “You have been so very good to us, dear Mrs. Brown,” she said, leaning over to whisper the words.
The farmer’s wife held Phronsie closer, but did not trust herself to speak.