Chapter 9 HIGH WIND

MOVING to a shelf on the north wall, Hanny pulled out a canvas bag.

“Not money?” gasped Vevi. Her interest in the locked room had revived quickly.

“This bag contains something which may be as valuable as gold,” Hanny replied. “It all depends on whether or not Uncle Peter is lucky.”

The little Dutch girl unfastened the bag and carefully emptied out some of the contents on the counter.

“More tulip bulbs!” exclaimed Vevi. “Big ones too.”

She had never seen such large bulbs. Each one was plump and perfectly formed. Even Vevi who did not know anything about flower bulbs could see that these were something very fine.

“Are these the special bulbs your uncle developed Hanny?” shrewdly guessed Connie. “Are they the blue ribbon ones?”

“They’re the bulbs Uncle Peter hopes will win the prize.”

“Why do you keep them locked up?” questioned Vevi.

“Because they will be worth their weight in gold if our tulip wins first prize,” Hanny explained. “There are no other bulbs like these anywhere in this country or abroad. Uncle Peter says they are the finest in the world! If we should lose them or if they should rot, we never could replace them.”

“Are they bulbs of the Golden Tulip?” Vevi asked.

“I cannot say,” returned Hanny. “I would like to tell, but I promised Uncle Peter not to give away the secret.”

“The Golden Tulip is the most beautiful one I have seen anywhere,” Vevi insisted. “I think these must be Golden Tulip bulbs.”

Hanny only laughed and put away the bag. Then she carefully locked the little house again.

“I wish the Brownies had a tulip bed,” said Connie after the padlock had been snapped shut. “Miss Mohr might give us a little plot of ground at the library.”

“It is too late to start a tulip bed this spring,” Hanny advised her. “Bulbs should be planted in the fall.”

“Then perhaps the Brownies can have a garden next year. Only then Rosedale may not be having a flower festival.”

“Next year, if Uncle Peter still has his nursery, I will give you hundreds of bulbs,” Hanny promised.

As the children turned away from the little house, they were startled to hear Jane calling to them from the roadway.

“Hey, hurry up!” she shouted. “We’ve been waiting nearly ten minutes! Hurry!”

Vevi and Connie hastily said goodbye to Hanny, reminding her not to forget the scheduled Brownie Scout meeting at the library. Then they ran off to join their friends who were ready to start home.

“Say, where did you girls go anyhow?” Jane demanded suspiciously as Vevi and Connie rushed up breathlessly.

“It’s a secret,” chuckled Vevi.

All the way home, the other Brownies teased her to reveal where she and Connie had been. But Vevi would not.

Not until they were alone again, did the two girls so much as mention the locked room.

Both were hopeful that Peter would win the blue ribbon and that his bag of precious bulbs truly would become a bag of treasure.

On Wednesday after school all the Brownie Scouts gathered at the public library to cut and paste tulip decorations for the windows.

“Where is Hanny?” Rosemary asked noticing that the little girl was not present. “I thought she was coming today.”

“So did I,” declared Miss Gordon. “Perhaps she will come later.”

A door banged just then and in came Hanny. She was quite breathless from hurrying.

“I am sorry to be late,” she apologized. “I did not think I could come at all. My uncle was called away and there is no one at home to look after things. Even the housekeeper is away.”

Miss Gordon said she was happy indeed that Hanny had managed to attend the meeting. She gave the little girl materials and showed her how to make paper flowers.

As the children worked with scissors and paste, Miss Mohr told them about the work of Brownies in foreign countries.

“Now who remembers the Brownie name in the Netherlands?” she asked the group.

Sunny Davidson and Connie Williams both waved their hands. Miss Mohr called on Sunny to give the answer.

“They’re called Kabouters and it means little elves.”

“Now who knows the name that is used for the organization in South Africa?” the librarian went on.

No one knew the answer so Miss Mohr told the girls that Brownies in South Africa were known as Sunbeams.

She said that in Greece they were called Poulakia or Little Birds.

Miss Gordon then told the Brownies about cut-out dolls they could obtain. She explained that the figures were dressed in Brownie uniforms of different countries in the World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts.

“Now you know that tulip bulbs came to this country from Holland,” she declared. “Look about in your homes, and at our next meeting report how many objects you have noticed that have been imported from other countries.”

“Our home has almost everything from Holland,” Hanny said. “But I like best the things you buy in America. I love your big super markets too where you see so many wonderful foods.”

So that the little girl would know more about the organization she intended to join, Miss Gordon explained how the Brownies obtained their name in English speaking countries.

“The organization was named by Robert Baden-Powell, who lived in England,” she told Hanny. “He knew many wonderful stories about the brownies or ‘little people’ and thought it would be a suitable name for girls who try to be useful. The founder of the Girl Scouts in America was Mrs. Juliette Gordon Low.”

“How can I join?” Hanny asked eagerly. “I want to be a Brownie.”

“We will have the investiture ceremony as soon as you have attended four meetings,” Miss Gordon promised.

After the paper flowers had been made, the girls talked over plans for a booth at Mrs. Langley’s flower show. Miss Mohr announced that Peter Van Der Lann had promised the troop all the tulips they wanted, not only for decoration, but to sell. The mothers would help too, particularly in the making of tussie-mussie bouquets.

“I think the festival on Mrs. Langley’s estate will be very nice,” Miss Mohr told the girls. “The Brownies will wear Dutch costumes, and wooden shoes. All the money we make will be for our own organization.”

It was after four-thirty when the meeting finally came to an end. Vevi and Hanny were among the last to leave the library. Arm in arm they walked along the street together.

“I am going to like being a Brownie,” Hanny told her new friend. “Why, I hope I can attend every single meeting.”

The children were passing a drugstore window. Vevi stopped to look at a poster which advertised the coming festival. The placard did not mention the preliminary show on Mrs. Langley’s estate but told about the three-day celebration which would follow.

Vevi was reading the poster when a sudden gust of wind whipped her Brownie uniform about her knees.

At the same instant off went her brown beanie into the gutter.

“Whoops!” Vevi exclaimed, scampering after the rolling headgear.

As she snatched the beanie from the street an automobile came to a jerky halt at the curb. The strange woman Vevi knew as Mrs. Gabriel was at the wheel. She tooted her horn and glared at the little girl.

“Don’t you know better than to dash out into the street!” she scolded. “I might have run you down.”

Vevi had been a little careless. However, she never had come very close to the automobile.

“I am sorry,” she apologized. “That wind—”

Off went her beanie again, this time almost directly beneath the wheels of the stationary car. To the annoyance of Mrs. Gabriel, Vevi had to get down on her hands and knees to fish it out.

“Do watch what you are doing,” the woman said. “And hang onto that hat!”

The moment Vevi was safely on the curb, she drove away.

Hanny had been having a time with her own belongings. The capricious wind had scattered some of her school papers. For several minutes she was kept busy gathering them up.

Breathlessly the two girls huddled in the drugstore doorway. As yet there was no rain but dust was blowing wildly in the street. A newspaper flew past, plastering itself around a telephone pole.

“It’s going to blow real hard,” Vevi said, pulling her sweater tight. “Hanny, you had better come home with me.”

“I can’t,” the other replied. “O-oh!”

Vevi looked around quickly, wondering what was wrong. She thought dust had blown into Hanny’s eyes or that another paper had been swept away.

“What is it?” she asked for her little friend looked dreadfully worried.

“The windmill!” Hanny said in a frightened voice. “I left it turned on. If it pumps very long in this high wind, our tulips may be ruined!”