The next week a large packing-case arrived. Ellie was the one to wield the hatchet this time, for her uncle was still in an ungracious mood. The box was larger than she expected, but this was explained when it was opened. Two large dolls were inside—one with curly short hair and boyish face, and the other a real “girly” doll. A letter explained that with an order for children's ready-to-wear clothes it might be an advantage to have dolls on which to display them.
“I wonder!” said Ellie, to herself. “Look here, Uncle,” she called, as the old man came into the store; “see what they've sent me! Look at these pink and white dolls, when we're trading with Indians. Isn't it a joke?”
“A coat of brown paint is what you want,” said old Job, laughing a cynical laugh.
“You've hit it, Uncle! You certainly have dandy ideas! I shouldn't have thought of it.”
Then in a moment he heard her at the telephone giving a number. It was the Prescott ranch. “Hello, is that you, Louise? Can you come up to-day? I need you. All right. And Lou, bring your oil paints. It's very important.”
It was with much giggling and chattering that the two girls began their transformation of the pink-and-white dolls. Their bisque faces were given a thin coating of brown paint. The old man watched them from across the store and almost gasped as he saw them rip off the wigs. Then they retreated to the kitchen. He was so curious that he made several trips to the door and peeked through a crack.
What he saw was the two girls bending over a pot on the stove, which they were stirring furiously. Once in a while Ellie raised the stick with something black on the end, and finally the two dripping dolls' wigs were hung over the stove to dry. Of course the boiling had taken all the curl out of the hair, but that was what they wanted, for the two dolls were now brown-faced, dark-haired figures. They were arrayed in the ready-to-wear clothes, and the girls stood back to survey them.
“They look fine, Ellie! That is, yours does; but my girl here doesn't look quite right.”
Job Lansing was pretending to be busy. He turned and at once broke into a roar of laughter. “Well, when did you ever see a blue-eyed Injin?”
“Oh that's it, Ellie. Your doll had brown eyes, but mine are blue. What shall we do? It looks silly this way.”