“But how will she get into the house?” asked Harry.
“I don’t know.” Chub frowned thoughtfully at the crumbling bricks.
“I suppose we might leave the key across the street and pin a note on the door telling her to go there and get it. I guess that’s all we can do, eh?”
Harry agreed that it was. So they saw to the fastenings of the window, took their iron kettle into which were packed their other purchases, wrote a line on a paper bag, and locked the door behind them. Then Harry supplied a pin, and Chub posted the note, which read:
Jennie: The key to the store is at the white house right across the street.
At the white house they had some difficulty in explaining their errand to an elderly woman who was very deaf and very suspicious, but finally they accomplished it and went off, leaving the key in her hands.
“There’s a chance that Jennie won’t be able to make that old woman understand what she wants,” growled Chub. “Jennie may have to sleep on the sidewalk to-night. Well, we’ve done what we could.”
“And then maybe she won’t come at all,” said Harry, hopefully.
“What good will that do?” Chub asked.
“Why, then we can keep store again to-morrow. Wouldn’t you just love to?”