“Well, I’m sure,” answered Mrs. Deane, “seven thousand dollars is seven times more money than I ever expected to see! I shan’t know what to do with it.” She looked quite alarmed and helpless for a moment, but Polly patted her shoulder reassuringly.
“You must invest it, dearest, and then you won’t have to keep this place any longer, because when I go to work—”
But, instead of vanishing, the Widow Deane’s alarm increased. “Oh, I couldn’t give up the store, Polly!” she gasped. “Why—why, what would I do with myself all day?”
“Yes’m that’s so!” declared Ned, heartily. “Gee, you couldn’t do that! Why, we wouldn’t have any place to buy cream-puffs!”
“I guess I would keep on with the store,” Mrs. Deane concluded, when the laughter had subsided. “I’m afraid I’d never be very happy if I didn’t have you boys around. Well, it’s certainly very wonderful, isn’t it, Polly?”
“It’s—it’s heavenly!” declared Polly. “This is just the most beautiful Christmas there ever was or ever will be! And I don’t see how we can ever thank you all for finding—”
“Gosh!” exclaimed Laurie. “The Doctor’s tree, fellows! We’ll have to beat it! We’ll leave the bonds here until to-morrow—eh?”
“But I want to see the tunnel and—and everything!” cried Polly.
“That’s so! We’ll come over after dinner. Come on, fellows! Neddie, come away from those tarts!”
“I was only looking,” sighed Ned.