“You wonder what, Miss Gordon?” demanded Connie.
The Brownie leader, however, did not intend to finish what had been in her mind.
“Race you to the bridge!” she challenged.
Off she darted, with the Brownies in hot pursuit. By the time they all reached the bridge, everyone was out of breath and Mr. Gossart completely forgotten.
The Brownies and Veve were spending the afternoon rummaging in Grandmother Gordon’s attic.
Connie had suggested the idea immediately after lunch and everyone had been enthusiastic. Mrs. Gordon, of course, did not expect the girls to find her missing locket, but she knew they would have a fine time poking about among all the old things.
The attic had only one small window to let in light. Everywhere cobwebs hung from file walls. Veve ran into one as she started toward an old spinning wheel which stood near the door.
“Ugh!” she exclaimed, fighting it off. “This old boy has me by the throat.”
“Maybe there are mice in here too,” Rosemary added uneasily.
“Grandma Gordon is too good a housekeeper to have mice,” declared Connie. She was alarmed lest the girls decide to leave the attic before they had explored it. “Anyway, Fluff is here to scare them away.”
The cat had followed the Brownies upstairs and was rubbing against Connie’s legs.
“Fluff is too lazy to catch anything,” laughed Rosemary.
The attic fairly overflowed with boxes, trunks, suitcases and broken furniture. Eileen tried out an old rocker which squeaked like an animal in distress.
Connie and Eileen began opening the trunks. In one they found old shoes, ancient hats and woolen goods scented with moth balls.
One box contained children’s winter clothing, still in good condition and very little out of style. In another were several old-fashioned silk dresses with tight waists and long full skirts.
“What fun to dress up!” exclaimed Eileen.
“We couldn’t without asking Mrs. Gordon’s permission,” said Connie. “If we start to dress up now, we’ll have no time to look at the other things here.”
“Then let’s do it tomorrow,” Eileen replied, temporarily giving up the idea.
Suddenly from the far end of the attic came a resounding crash.
Veve, who had tried to peep into a box that was higher than her head, had pulled it over. Barely missing her feet, it spilled its contents of books over the floor.