Adele Doring of the Sunnyside Club

After school on Friday the Sunny Seven danced over the Buttercup Meadows on their way to the cabin.

“We ought to call it Golden-rod Meadows now,” Betty Burd declared.

“I love the purple asters tangled in with the gold!” Gertrude Willis exclaimed. “Dame Nature is a wonderful artist.”

“And the maple wood is so bright and red,” Doris Drexel said. “We might have Granny Dorset’s party here. Surely, no ball-room could be more splendid.”

As they were talking they approached the cabin, and Peggy Pierce, finding the key, opened the door.

“Girls!” Rosamond exclaimed, as she peered in. “I almost wish that Grandpa Dally had not told us about that miser. It makes me feel shuddery to think of him. Long and lank, he sat right there at our table as he counted out his gold pieces by the light of a candle.”

“Well, he isn’t here now,” said practical Bertha, as she entered the cabin and threw open the window.

“Of course he isn’t,” Adele exclaimed. “There’s no one in our Secret Sanctum but just ourselves.”

The girls, finding it hard to overcome an uncanny feeling, nevertheless entered the cabin and began to make definite plans for the party which they were going to give for Granny Dorset, when suddenly there was a strange clinking noise in the wall.

Rosamond sprang to her feet, her eyes wide and startled. “What was that?” she asked. The other girls stood up and listened. They distinctly heard a scurrying and then another clinking sound.

“It must be a chipmunk or a ground-squirrel,” Adele said, trying to speak calmly.

“I would think so myself,” Bertha replied, “but for the other noise,—the clinking. How could a squirrel make that?”

The girls examined the wall, and Gertrude exclaimed, “Why, this seems to be a boarded-up fireplace.”

“Yes, and here is a loose board,” Bertha said, “so now the mystery will be explained.”

The bark-covered boards were easily pried away and a stone-lined fireplace was disclosed. There were wood-ashes on the floor of it, but no squirrel, and nothing that would clink.

“Look!” Gertrude said. “Here is a hole through which a squirrel might have gone.”

Adele peered up the blackened chimney. There was a rude stone ledge just above her head, and suddenly, with a frightened chirr, a chipmunk jumped from the ledge to the floor and darted into the meadow through the hole which Gertrude had seen.

The creature’s quick movement had dislodged something on the shelf and it fell clinking against a stone.

With a cry of amazement Adele stooped and picked up a gold piece.

“Quick, bring a stool, somebody!” she called. “I’ll climb up and see what is on that ledge.”

“The miser’s gold!” she declared, as she handed Bertha a bag. The chipmunk, hoping to find nuts, had gnawed a hole in it. The girls gathered around were scarcely able to believe their eyes. “Here’s a piece of brown paper,” Adele said, “and there’s writing on it!”

The writing in places was very hard to read, but at last they made it out, and Adele read aloud:

“I’m so disappointed,” Adele announced. “I thought of the Quigleys at once, and how it would help them, but they would not want stolen money.”

“I’ll tell you what,” said Gertrude Willis. “Let’s take it to father with the note and ask his advice. Perhaps it would help to right the wrong if the money were used for some good purpose.”

Half an hour later the girls arrived at the neat parsonage. They found the minister working in his garden, and he listened gravely to the story of the miser and his bag of gold.

As Gertrude had anticipated, her father said, “Since the money cannot be returned to its rightful owners, it surely ought to be used in doing good. If I were you, I would deposit it in the bank and draw upon it as a need arises.”

Thanking Mr. Willis for his advice, seven happy girls went to the bank of which Doris Drexel’s father was president.

Luckily Mr. Drexel was still there, and he had the bag emptied and the money counted. “One thousand dollars,” he reported with a smile, “and I believe, little lassies, that Mr. Willis has made a wise suggestion.”

When the girls left the place a while later, Bertha carried a little book which stated that she was the treasurer of the Sunnyside Club, which had funds to the amount of one thousand dollars in the First National Bank in the town of Sunnyside.

Next, the seven girls visited Miss Grackle, to tell her the story. “We wish this money to be used by the Quigleys,” Adele said, “but since we do not want them to feel that they are receiving charity, we wish that you, Miss Grackle, would give them a certain amount of it each month for taking care of your garden and grounds.”

“That will be a splendid plan,” Miss Grackle said brightly. “And now, before you go, would you girls like to see the cottage in which the Quigleys are to live? I have aired it out and made it fresh and tidy.”

“We’d love to see it!” Adele exclaimed, and so Miss Grackle led the way to the little cottage beside the maple grove.

The three rooms were sunny and bright, and the big, old-fashioned stove in the kitchen had been freshly blackened. The wood-box was filled, for, as Miss Grackle explained, she wanted it to look home-like as soon as they saw it. In the living-room there were two easy-chairs with bright patch-work cushions, and in the bedroom beyond all was spotlessly clean and inviting.

“I can hardly wait until to-morrow,” Betty Burd exclaimed.

“Nor I,” Gertrude Willis declared. “The party was planned to be a surprise for Granny Dorset, but think of the joyous surprise which is in store for those poor Quigleys. They will expect to return to the poorhouse after the party, and when they find that they are to have a home, oh, Adele, won’t they be the happiest old people in all the world!”

“Girls!” Adele cried suddenly. “We did plan on having the party out in our meadow cabin, but wouldn’t it be much nicer to have it right here? That is, of course, if you are willing, Miss Grackle.”

“That is really a first-rate idea!” Miss Grackle declared. “And then, instead of having a cold chicken supper, we can have a warm one.”

Adele’s mother, when she heard of the change, agreed that it was a splendid plan. Kate offered to cook the chickens and things in her own kitchen, and then, at the last moment, they were to be taken to the cottage and kept warm until served.

When Saturday morning dawned, Adele, at an early hour, drove over to the orphanage and readily obtained permission for Eva and Amanda to spend the day with her. On their way back they gathered armfuls of bright red leaves from the sumac bushes, and graceful stalks of golden-rod and purple aster. These they took to the cottage where the Quigleys were to live, and Adele filled bowls and pitchers and set them about everywhere.

Soon thereafter the other six girls arrived, and then what a hustling and bustling there was! The living-room table was covered with a snowy-white cloth, and on it was laid Miss Grackle’s choice old-fashioned blue-and-white china and the newly polished silver, and in the very center was a blue bowl of golden-glow.

“Now,” Adele said as she stood back and surveyed the scene, “everything is ready for the surprise-party and we may rest a while from our labors. At two o’clock Bob Angel and Gertrude Willis are to go to the poorhouse to get the Quigleys, and at two-thirty Brother Jack and Eva may go after Granny Dorset. I think it would be nice to have all of the guests here before she arrives.”

“Here comes an automobile up the drive now!” Betty Burd exclaimed. “Who do you suppose is in it?”

“Oh, it’s brother Bob in our car,” Bertha declared.

The girls skipped out to the driveway, and Bob, leaping to the ground, made a deep bow as he said, “Ladies, this is a free bus which will gladly convey you to your several homes, if you care to entrust your lives to my keeping.”

“Oh, good enough!” Peggy Pierce exclaimed. “I was just wishing that I was home to help mother get the dinner, and now I will be there in a twinkling.”

“We have our fiery steed,” Adele said, “so Eva and Amanda and I will travel in my little red cart, but thank you, just the same.”

Then, waving good-bye to smiling Miss Grackle, the girls and Bob started down the Dickerson Road on their homeward way.

Meanwhile, in the poorhouse, Mrs. Quigley was hunting in her shabby hair-trunk for a bit of old-time finery. Little, indeed, did she dream of the great joy which was so soon to be hers.