“You won’t, eh? We’ll see about that. You’re Dr. Bolton’s daughter, aren’t you? I’ll just send him a bill for twenty dollars,” the shopkeeper announced with a satisfied chuckle. “Then, if he won’t pay his bill, I won’t pay mine.”
“But that isn’t fair!” Judy cried, her gray eyes blazing.
“No? Then I’ll make it twenty-five.”
“Let’s go before he puts the price any higher,” Holly urged, pulling at Judy’s arm.
CHAPTER IV
A Mysterious Truck
“Please, Judy, come on,” Holly begged again as Judy stopped to examine more of the used furniture piled near the front of the shop. The warped and broken table had aroused her curiosity. It seemed as if she had seen it somewhere before, but she couldn’t remember where.
“Somebody had furniture with claw feet like that,” she mused.
An old rocker looked familiar, too. It was in good condition. She was tempted to ask the price and then thought better of it. Mr. Sammis was sure to overcharge her. Then, too, there was always the danger that he might break something else and blame her for it.
“It isn’t fair,” she repeated, more to herself than to Holly, as they left the shop.