“Of course I’ll take them—all five of them,” declared Judy in her impulsive way. “Holly will help me take care of them. Her sister’s baby has outgrown his crib, and I can put two more in the old trundle bed stored in the attic, and two in the big spare bed—”
“Now wait a minute,” Dr. Bolton stopped her. “Your mother and I have room for a baby or two in our house.”
Judy laughed. “There won’t be enough babies to go around!” she said.
On her way home in her father’s car Judy had her hands full. She was so busy with the babies that there was no time to wonder what had become of Blackberry. Two of her small charges slept, and two of them cried. The older child wouldn’t talk. She just sat in a far corner of the car holding her baby brother and looking frightened. She wouldn’t even tell Judy her name.
“I forgot it,” she confessed at last. “You can just call me Sister.”
“I’d better go inside and prepare your mother for a shock,” Dr. Bolton said when they reached Farringdon. “She isn’t expecting company for dinner. You’ll help her with the babies, won’t you, Judy girl?”
“I’ll help too,” Sister spoke up. She wanted to give her baby brother his bottle and explained his formula very carefully to Judy.
Mrs. Bolton made the children welcome, as Judy had known she would, and Horace was there eager to hear more about the orphanage fire. Now Judy could give him the latest news.
“Two boys started it by accident. Peter questioned them, but he won’t want his name mentioned. Neither will I. You see,” Judy explained, “we’re working on something else. I’m not sure, but I think we’ve found Holly’s typewriter in that house with the boarded-up windows. And you’ll never guess what else was there!”
“What was it? How did you get in? Is that where the beavers got all that stuff they used to build their dam? You didn’t find any more of those lady table legs, did you?”