They did not overtake the determined woman before she was in sight of the dog refuge. The van had driven into the yard. Before the gate could be shut Tess, followed closely by the trembling Dot and by the more or less valiant Sammy, pushed through likewise and faced the superintendent of the lost dog department.
"What do you little folks want?" asked this kindly man, smiling down upon the trio.
"We want Tom Jonah," said Tess, her voice quivering but her manner still brave.
"You've just got to give us Tom Jonah," Dot added, gulping down a sob.
"You bet you have!" said Sammy, clenching his fists.
"'Tom Jonah'?" repeated the man. "Is that a dog?"
Tess pointed. There was Tom Jonah at the screened door of the van.
"That's him," she said. "He never did anybody any harm. These men just stole him."
That was pretty strong language for Tess Kenway to use; but she was greatly overwrought.
"You mean they took him out of your yard?"
"They took him off'n the street," said Sammy. "But he'd only jumped the fence because he saw us comin' home from school."
"He isn't muzzled," said the man.
"He—he don't bite," wailed Dot. "He—he ain't got any teeth to bite!"
He was an old dog as the superintendent could see. Besides, he knew that his men were more eager to secure the fines than they were to be kind or fair to the owners of dogs.
"How about this, Harry?" he asked the driver of the van.
"The dog's ugly as sin," growled the man. "Ain't he, Bill?"
"Tried to chew me up," declared the man with the net.
"Say!" blurted out Sammy, "wouldn't you try to chew a feller up if he caught you in a fish-net and dragged you to a wagon like that? Huh!"
Harry burst out laughing. The superintendent said, quietly:
"Let the big dog out."
"Not me, Boss," said Bill, backing away. "That dog's got it in for me."
"Let me!" exclaimed Tess. "Tom Jonah would not bite any of us—not even if he had hydrophobia. No, sir!"
"Of course he wouldn't!" acclaimed Dot. "But he couldn't have hydro—hydro— Well, whatever that is."
"Keep those other dogs back, Bill, and let the little girl have her Tom Jonah," said the superintendent. "I guess there's been a mistake. These are the Corner House girls, and that is their old dog. I remember him. He wouldn't harm a fly."
"No. But he'd chaw the leg off'n me, Boss," said Bill, who did not like dogs and therefore was afraid of them. "Besides, all's fish that comes into my net, you know."
"Go away," commanded the other man, taking the long pole himself. "I will let him out."
"Oh, Tom Jonah!" cried Tess, running to the door of the van. "Be good now. The man is going to let you out and we will take you home."
The old dog stopped whining but he did not, as Sammy whispered to Dot, look any too pleasant. When the superintendent opened the door, after crowding back the smaller dogs that filled the van, Tess called to Tom Jonah to come out. He leaped down. The next instant he whirled and would have charged the two men who had caused him such discomfort and disgrace, his jaws emitting terrific growls.
"Stop, Tom Jonah!" from Tess and Dot, and "Cut it out, Tom Jonah!" from Sammy, were all that saved the day. The dog had never yet been cowed of spirit and, old as he was, he would have attacked a lion, let alone a pair of faint-hearted rowdies.
"Take my advice, boys," said the superintendent of the pound. "Don't go around that block by the old Corner House again. This old fellow will not forget either of you."
"He ought to be shot," growled Bill.
"You do such a thing—such a desperately wicked thing!" exclaimed a sharp voice, "and I will see that you are prosecuted to the full extent of the law."
It was Aunt Sarah who appeared like an angel of wrath at the gateway.
"Mr. Howbridge shall know about your actions—you two men there! And as for you," the indignant old woman added, fixing her gaze upon the superintendent of the pound, "let me tell you that the Stower estate makes a contribution yearly to your Society, which contribution partly pays your salary. I hold you responsible for the character of the men you engage to collect the poor dogs who are neglected and who have no homes. They are not supposed to take the pets of people who amply care for dumb animals. Another occasion like this and you will hear from it—mark my word, sir!"
"Oh, my!" sighed Dot, afterward, her eyes still round with wonder, "I never did suppose Aunt Sarah could speak so big. Isn't she just wonnerful?"
While the children were caressing Tom Jonah and the superintendent was striving to pacify the indignant Aunt Sarah, Agnes and Neale came panting to the pound.
"Guess it's all over but the shouting," said Neale, with satisfaction. "Down, Tom Jonah! Down, with you! Don't jump all over my best suit of clothes."
"And spare me your kisses, good old fellow!" begged Agnes. "We know just how glad you are to get out of jail. Who wouldn't be?"
"Je-ru-sa-lem!" ejaculated Sammy Pinkney; "who'd ha' thought of Tom Jonah getting pinched?"
Before the party got away from the pound, Ruth came racing down in the automobile. Returning from her first drive alone as a licensed chauffeur, she had heard of the family's migration to the pound and had come in haste to the rescue of Tom Jonah—and the remainder of the Corner House party.
"For goodness' sake! do get into the automobile and act as though we'd just come for a ride," exclaimed the oldest Corner House girl. "Did ever any one hear of such ridiculous things as happen to us?"
"You need not be so snippy," said Agnes, in some heat. "If Tom Jonah had actually been put into that awful gas chamber they tell about—"
"They don't do such things until it is positive that nobody will claim the dog—unless he really is afflicted with rabies," Ruth said. "I'm surprised at Aunt Sarah."
"You needn't be, young lady," said Miss Maltby. "You needn't be surprised at anything I may do. I have long known that I belonged to a family of crazy people, and now I guess I've proved myself as crazy as any of you."
However, they could laugh at it after a while. And they did not begrudge any trouble to save poor old Tom Jonah from inconvenience. While the children were away at school thereafter they were careful to put the old dog on a long leash in a shady corner of the yard.
After all, Tom Jonah had been a vagabond for a good part of his life, and old as he was sometimes the spirit of what Agnes called "the wanderlust" (she was just beginning German) came over him and he would go away to visit friends for two or three days at a time.
"He'll go visiting no more at present," Ruth said with decision.
However, other plans for visiting progressed. Aunt Sarah and Mrs. MacCall proceeded to carry out their conspiracy. The suggestion was made at just the right time, and in the right way, for Cecile and Luke to be invited to the old Corner House for a week-end party, and the party itself was planned.
So it came to pass that Cecile Shepard wrote her brother Luke that very next week:
"I suppose, Luke dear, you have received your invitation to Ruth's party. Of course, dear boy, we must both go. I would not disappoint or offend her for the world—nor must you. Buck up, old pal! This is a hard row to hoe, but I guess you'll have to hoe it alone. I can only sit on the fence and root for you.
"Aunt Lorena declares the world is coming to an end. Neighbor sent Samri over to the house to ask Auntie what Ruth's last name was and how to find her. He was so mad with you that night you told him, he evidently did not catch her name. And then, Aunt Lorena says, the very next morning Neighbor started out and was gone all day.
"He could not have gone to see Ruth. Of course not! Certain sure if he had, I should have heard of it from either Ruth herself or from Agnes. But he might have gone to Milton to make inquiries about her.
"However, I am afraid whatever he did that day he was away, it did not please him. He returned about dark, blew up Samri in the yard for some little thing, rampaged around in his most awful way, and finally, Aunt Lorena says, she could hear him scolding the butler all through dinner and half the evening. Then, she believes, the poor old Jap crept into the toolshed to spend the rest of the night out of sound of his master's voice."
Luke would certainly not have gone to Milton and to the Corner House at this time save that he, like his sister, could not offend those who had been so kind to him there. And he was hungry for a sight of Ruth!
Seeing her, he feared, would not aid him to be manly and put his desires aside while he fought his way through college. He knew that Neighbor would do exactly what he had said. Never could he look to the old gentleman for a friendly word, or a bit of help over a hard financial place again. As Mr. Henry Northrup was so fond of saying, he always said what he meant and meant what he said!
The party was to be on Saturday evening, and the Friday when the Shepards had promised to arrive at the Corner House came, and Luke and Cecile went their separate ways to Milton by train. As he had not sent word by just what train he would arrive the young man did not expect anybody to meet him. He walked up from the station with his suitcase and came in sight of the old Corner House without being spied by anybody on the premises.
A wintry wind was blowing, and the great shade trees about the house were almost bare of leaves. Yet the Stower homestead could never look anything but cheerful and homelike. Luke quickened his pace as he approached the gate. There was somebody inside that old house, he was quite sure, whom he longed desperately to see.
He opened the gate and swung up the walk to the door. Bounding up the steps he reached forth his hand to touch the annunciator button when he caught sight of something standing on the porch beside the door—something that brought a gasp of amazement from his lips and actually caused him to turn pale.
Ruth had become quite excited over the prospect of the coming party. Of course, not as excited as Agnes, but sufficiently so to become more like her oldtime self.
She went about with a smile on her lips and a gleam in her eyes that had been missing of late. Agnes hinted that she must have some particular reason for being so "chipper."
"Somebody's coming you like, Ruthie Kenway!" the next oldest sister declared.
For once Ruth did not deny the accusation. She merely blushed faintly and said nothing.
Friday afternoon was a particularly busy time for Ruth. She found some things had been forgotten and she went down town to attend to them. She walked, and in coming back, hastening up Main Street, at the corner of the avenue that gave a glimpse of the railroad station, she came face to face with the queer old gentleman of the green umbrella!
"Ha!" ejaculated the old man, stopping abruptly. "So! I find you at last, do I?"
"Ye-yes, sir," stammered Ruth.
To tell the truth, he looked so fierce, he had such a hawklike eye, and he spoke so harshly that he fairly frightened the oldest Corner House girl. She felt as though he must think she had been hiding from him purposely.
"I was in your town here once before looking for you. You were not to be found," he said.
"Ye-yes, sir," admitted Ruth. "I guess I was out that day."
"Out? I didn't know where to hunt for you," growled the old man, shaking the green umbrella and looking as fierce, Ruth thought, as though he might like to shake her in the same way.
"Ye-yes, sir," she stammered.
"Don't say that again!" roared the stranger. "Speak sensibly. Or are you as big a fool as most other females!"
At that Ruth grew rather piqued. She regained her self-possession and began to study the old man.
"I'm not sure how foolish you consider all women to be, sir," she said. "Perhaps I am merely an average girl."
"No. I'll be bound you've more sense than some," he grumbled. "Otherwise you wouldn't have pulled me back from that train. I'd have been run over like enough."
"I'm glad you think I helped you," said Ruth simply.
"Heh? What are you glad for?"
"Because I like to have people feel grateful to me and like me," confessed Ruth frankly.
"Hey-day!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "Here's plainness of speech. I suppose you think I am rich and that I have come to reward you?"
"I thought you had come to thank me, not insult me," the girl said, with dignity. "You cannot give me money."
"You are a wealthy girl, then?"
"We have all the money we shall ever need," said Ruth. "It really does not matter, does it, sir? If you have thanked me sufficiently, I will go on."
"Hoity-toity!" he snarled. "You are one of these very smart modern girls, I see. And wealthy, too? Where do you live?"
"I am going home now, sir. You know where I live," said Ruth in surprise.
"Heh? I'll go with you. I want to talk with your folks."
"I really do not understand your object. I have no parents, sir," said Ruth, a little angry by this time. "If you wish to see our lawyer—"
"Haven't you anybody?"
"I have sisters and an aunt and a guardian—our lawyer," said Ruth not at all pleased to be obliged to satisfy the curiosity of the old man with the green umbrella.
He walked on beside her and there really seemed no way to escape him. She thought it strange that he cared to come to the house again, having already been there once and interviewed Mrs. MacCall.
When they came in sight of the old Corner House Ruth heard the old gentleman utter an exclamation as though he recognized it. Then, when she stopped at the gate he demanded:
"So you live here?"
"Of course I do," Ruth replied rather sharply for her.
She opened the gate and passed through. She did not ask him to enter; but he came in just the same, green umbrella and all. He walked beside her up the path and up the steps to the door. Then as she turned to face him he grumbled:
"So I suppose you're going to tell me that you are Ruth Kenway?"
"That is my name, sir."
"Humph! So, the boy has got some sense, after all," muttered the old man.
Ruth suddenly felt that there was a deep meaning in the old man's look and a reason for his curiosity. She asked faintly:
"What boy, sir? Whom do you mean?"
"That whippersnapper, Luke Shepard."
"Oh!" Ruth exclaimed. "You are Neighbor!"
So that is why Luke, coming half an hour later to this very front door, spied the green umbrella and Mr. Henry Northrup's great overshoes standing together on the porch of the old Corner House.
Luke did not know at first whether it would be best to ring the bell or to run. He wavered for several minutes, undecided. Then suddenly Neale O'Neil, rounding the corner of the house, caught sight of him.
"Hullo!" shouted the ex-circus boy. "Lost, strayed, or stolen? The girls have been looking for you. Your sister is here already."
"Sh!" whispered Luke, beckoning frantically. "Somebody else is here, too."
"Crickey, yes! You know the old chap? Northrup's his name. He looks as hard as nails, but our Ruth's got him feeding out of her hand already. Oh, Ruth is some charmer!"
Luke fairly fell up against Neale.
"Charmed Neighbor?" he gasped. "Then Aunt Lorena's right! The world is coming to an end."
Of course, it did not! At least, not just then. But when Luke presented himself in the sitting-room of the old Corner House and found Mr. Northrup and Ruth in quiet conversation, the young man felt that he must be walking in a dream.
"You here, Neighbor?" he said, rather shakingly.
"Why, yes," said Mr. Northrup calmly. "You see, Miss Ruth is rather a friend of mine. Ahem! At least, she did me a favor some time ago, and in hunting her up to thank her, I find that she is a very dear friend of your sister and yourself, Luke."
"Er—yes?" questioned Luke, still a little tremulous in his speech.
"Ahem!" said Mr. Northrup again, staring hard at the young man. "Your friend Miss Ruth has invited me to remain to dinner and meet her sisters and—ahem!—the rest of her family. I hope you have no objection, Luke?" with sarcasm.
"Oh, no, Neighbor! Oh, no, indeed!" Luke hastened to say.
To the amazement of Luke and Cecile Shepard Mr. Northrup appeared very well indeed at dinner that night in the Corner House. They learned he could be very entertaining if he wished; that he had not forgotten how to interest women if he had been a recluse for so long; and that even Tess and Dot found something about him to admire. The former said afterward that Mr. Northrup had a voice like a distant drum; Dot said he had a "noble looking forehead," meaning that it was very high and bald.
Mr. Northrup and Aunt Sarah were wonderfully polite to each other. Mrs. MacCall had her suspicions of the old gentleman, remembering the umbrella and the occasion of his first call when, she considered, he had entered the house under false pretenses.
Luke went to the evening train with his old friend, and Mr. Northrup's mellowed spirit remained with him—for the time at least.
"She is a smart girl, Luke. I always thought you had a little good sense in your makeup, and I believe you've proved it. But remember, boy," added the man, shaking an admonitory finger at him, "remember, you're to stick to your fancy. No changing around from one girl to another. If you dare to I'll disown you— I'll disown you just as I said I should if you hadn't picked out the girl you have."
"Good gracious, Neighbor!" gasped the young man, "I—I don't even know if Ruth will have me."
"Huh! You don't? Well, young man," said the old gentleman in disgust at Luke's dilatoriness, "I do!"
Perhaps Mr. Henry Northrup's very positiveness upon this point spurred Luke to find an opportunity during this week-end visit to the old Corner House to open his heart to Ruth. In return the girl was frank enough to tell him just how glad she was that he had acted as he had before knowing that Neighbor would approve.
"For of course, Luke, money doesn't have to enter the question at all. Nevertheless, I know you will desire to be established in some business before we are really serious about this thing."
"Serious, Ruth!" exclaimed the young man. "Well— I don't know. Seems to me I've never been really serious about anything in my life before."
Though she spoke so very cautiously about their understanding, Ruth Kenway sent Luke back to college Sunday evening knowing that she coincided with his plans and hopes perfectly.
The party on Saturday night—the first of several evening entertainments the girls gave that winter—was a very delightful gathering. The visitors from out of town enjoyed themselves particularly because the bugbear of Neighbor's opposition to Luke's desires had been dissipated.
"Lucky boy, Luke," his sister told him. "And you may thank Ruthie Kenway for your happiness in more senses than one. It was she who charmed your crochety old friend. No other girl could have done it."
"Don't you suppose I know that?" he asked her, with scorn.
That party, of course, was enjoyable for the smaller Corner House girls as well as for their elders. There was nothing really good that Tess and Dot ever missed if Ruth and Agnes had it in their power to please their smaller sisters.
"It's most as good as having a party of our very own," sighed Tess, as she and Dot and Sammy Pinkney sat at the head of the front stairs with plates of ice cream and cake in their small laps.
"It's better," declared Dot. "'Cause we can just eat and eat and not have to worry whether the others are getting enough."
"Why, Dot Kenway!" murmured Tess. "That sounds awful—awful piggish."
"Nop," said Sammy. "She's right, Tess. You see, Dot means that she really can have a better time if there isn't anything to worry about. Now, there was that day we went off and took a ride on that canalboat."
"Being pirates," put in Dot, with a reminiscent sigh.
"Yep," went on the philosophic Sammy. "We'd have had an awful nice day if there'd been nothing to worry us. Wouldn't we, Dot?"
"I—I guess so," agreed the smallest Corner House girl slowly. "But just the same, Sammy Pinkney, I'm never going to run off to be pirates with you again. Ruthie says it isn't ladylike," she finished with an air of "be it ever so painful, ladylike I must be."
"Humph!" sniffed Sammy, "you won't get another chance. I ain't going to take any girl pirating when I go again. I don't want girls on a pirate ship."
"Oh, Sammy!" said Dot, "you sound just like that Mr. Neighbor Northrup. You know, Mr. Luke's friend. The misogynist."
"Huh!" grunted Sammy, scowling.
"But—but," Tess questioned softly, "Mr. Northrup's cured of that disease, isn't he?"
Four girls from eight to fourteen years of age receive word that a rich bachelor uncle has died, leaving them the old Corner House he occupied. They move into it and then the fun begins. What they find and do will provoke many a hearty laugh. Later, they enter school and make many friends. One of these invites the girls to spend a few weeks at a bungalow owned by her parents, and the adventures they meet with make very interesting reading. Clean, wholesome stories of humor and adventure, sure to appeal to all young girls.
| 1 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS. |
| 2 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS AT SCHOOL. |
| 3 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS UNDER CANVAS. |
| 4 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS IN A PLAY. |
| 5 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS' ODD FIND. |
| 6 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS ON A TOUR. |
| 7 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS GROWING UP. |
| 8 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS SNOWBOUND. |
| 9 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS ON A HOUSEBOAT. |
| 10 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS AMONG THE GYPSIES. |
| 11 | CORNER HOUSE GIRLS ON PALM ISLAND. |
| 12 | THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY. |
Polly Pendleton is a resourceful, wide-awake American girl who goes to a boarding school on the Hudson River some miles above New York. By her pluck and resourcefulness, she soon makes a place for herself and this she holds right through the course. The account of boarding school life is faithful and pleasing and will attract every girl in her teens.
Cloth, large 12 mo. Illustrated
| 1 | POLLY'S FIRST YEAR AT BOARDING SCHOOL |
| 2 | POLLY'S SUMMER VACATION |
| 3 | POLLY'S SENIOR YEAR AT BOARDING SCHOOL |
| 4 | POLLY SEES THE WORLD AT WAR |
| 5 | POLLY AND LOIS |
| 6 | POLLY AND BOB |
| 7 | POLLY'S RE-UNION |
| 8 | POLLY'S POLLY |