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.
“Oh, Veve! See what you’ve done!” Jane exclaimed impatiently. “If that box had contained glass, it would have been smashed!”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Veve mumbled, starting to pick up the books. “The old box just fell over.”
“You mean you accidentally pulled it down. Veve, you never stop to think before you act, and then when it’s your fault, you don’t like to admit it! Brownies believe in being honest about their mistakes.”
Although it was quite dark in the attic, Connie saw that tears were coming into Veve’s eyes. She really thought Jane was being too severe.
“Oh, why make a fuss about it?” she interposed. “Of course, Veve didn’t mean to do it.”
“She never does,” retorted Jane crossly.
“Well, you’re not being very nice yourself to blame Veve every time she has an accident,” said Rosemary, siding with Connie. “At lunch today when you upset your glass of milk, no one said a word.”
Jane started to say that the milk had spilled only because Sunny had joggled her elbow, but thought better of it.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t have said anything about the box, only I think we should be careful or Mrs. Gordon won’t want us to play up here.”
“We all should be careful,” emphasized Connie.
She and Sunny helped Veve pick up the books and stack them back in the box. The task had just been finished, when Rosemary let out a squeal of excitement.
“See what I’ve found!” she cried.
Rosemary had come upon a box of old buttons in a cardboard box tucked in the drawer of a rusty sewing machine.
“Say, maybe the golden locket is in there!” exclaimed Veve.
Hopefully the girls examined the many odd shapes and designs of the buttons. Some were of brass or silver; others were of glass and tin.
“Oh, see this button!” declared Jane, selecting one from the collection. “It has the face of George Washington on it and must be very rare.”
“And here’s one in the shape of a little house,” added Rosemary. “One never sees buttons like these today.”
“Except in collections,” contributed Connie. “It would be nice if the Brownies could save buttons, only we have so many other interesting things to do.”
The girls spent nearly half an hour studying the assortment. So fascinating was the pastime, that they forgot their disappointment over failure to find the missing locket.
Time passed so swiftly that the girls all were quite startled when Mrs. Gordon called from the foot of the stairs to ask them to wash up for supper.
“Is it supper time already?” gasped Connie. “Oh, dear, and we’ve only half explored this wonderful place.”
“Let’s finish up tomorrow if we can,” proposed Sunny as they all trooped down the stairs. “Maybe we can dress up in the old clothes. That would be fun.”
All the Brownies agreed that it would be good sport to put on a style show. Next morning, however, they had so many other interesting things to do they had no time to think of the attic.
In the morning the girls played games in the snow and went coasting again on Hammer Hill.
After lunch, Miss Gordon announced that she would drive to the village in the sleigh.
“Who wants to ride along and help me select the sled for the Stone children?” she inquired.
All of the Brownies were eager to accompany her. However, everyone could not crowd into one sleigh. So in the end, Veve and Eileen were chosen to go with the Brownie leader.
In the village, Miss Gordon attended to several errands. Then she took the girls to a hardware store where they inspected a number of sleds. After much debate, Eileen and Veve settled upon a handsome one which was large enough for two children to ride on at the same time.
While they were waiting for the sled to be carried out to the sleigh, Veve wandered to the rear of the store to look at a construction set.
As she stood there, she chanced to hear the owner of the hardware store talking to another man who was buying a snow shovel.
“Too bad about Stone,” the storekeeper remarked. “I’d help him if I could, but business is slack now and I can’t give him a place here.”
Hearing Mr. Stone’s name mentioned, Veve listened carefully.
“Yes, I’ve heard he’s had no regular work for more than a month,” the customer replied, “Pretty tough on that family of his, especially with Christmas coming on.”
When Veve left the hardware store with Eileen and Miss Gordon, she repeated the snatch of conversation she had overheard.
“I was afraid the Stone children might face a very meager Christmas, and this confirms it,” declared Miss Gordon. “I wish we could give them other things besides just a sled.”
“They must need food and clothing,” said Eileen as she climbed into the sleigh. “And I noticed the youngsters’ mittens were ragged.”
“We’ll have to do something about it,” said Miss Gordon. “However, I don’t wish to offend Grandma Gordon, so we must plan carefully.”
After the three had returned to the Gordon home with the new sled, they reported to the other Brownies what they had learned about Mr. Stone being out of work.
“If you want to give the children clothing, I know where there’s some!” exclaimed Connie, before she stopped to think. “A trunk in the attic is filled with garments—”
Then she broke off, seeing from Grandmother Gordon’s set expression, that the woman did not want to give any of the clothing away.
“Mr. Stone may be out of work temporarily, but I can’t believe the family is in actual need,” declared Grandmother Gordon. She lifted a stove lid to throw a chunk of wood into the fiery red coals. “Besides, Mr. Stone probably would have a steady job if he weren’t so shiftless.”
“Mr. Stone isn’t shiftless,” corrected Miss Gordon. “Work is very scarce just at this time. Besides, I know for a fact that he works very hard at his trap lines and does any kind of work he can get.”
“Other men seem able to find means of providing for their families,” sniffed Grandmother Gordon. “If I thought for a minute that he actually were deserving, I’d try to help the family.”
“Isn’t it true you dislike them because you believe Mrs. Stone took your locket?”
“I suppose it does enter into my feelings,” Grandmother Gordon admitted.
“Yet no matter what you believe about Mrs. Stone, you shouldn’t take it out on those poor children. It bothers me to think they may not have enough to eat.”
“Since you’ve talked of it so much, it’s beginning to bother me too,” admitted Mrs. Gordon. “Why not go there and find out the truth? I know that’s what you want me to tell you to do!”
“I’m very glad you suggested it,” laughed Miss Gordon. “It’s quite possible I may take a delegation of Brownies and go there tomorrow.”
Nothing more was said about the matter at that time, but secretly, all the Brownies hoped Miss Gordon would find a way to help the Stone children.
Since the girls had arrived at the farm, time had flown very fast They scarcely could realize that soon their parents would arrive for Christmas and to take them back to Rosedale.
Before that day came the Brownies planned to make cookies, cakes and candies and decorate the entire house with greens.
“Mr. Jeffert has promised us a Christmas tree,” Miss Gordon told the girls. “He said we may have any one we select.”
“One so tall it will touch the ceiling!” cried Rosemary.
“Please, may we choose it this afternoon?” pleaded Eileen, who was eager to return to the woods. “While we’re there, we could see if the birds are using the new feeding station!”
“How many Brownies feel equal to another hike?” asked Miss Gordon.
“I do!” shouted Jane.
All the other girls voted for the trip too and ran to put on their warm snowsuits.
A brisk walk through the frosty air brought the Brownies to the edge of Mr. Jeffert’s land.
“Our track has completely disappeared!” declared Miss Gordon. “Last night’s snow was heavier than I thought.”
The trail to the birds’ feeding station had been completely blotted out by the light fall of snow. Eileen and Jane, however, knew the way.
“Follow us!” Eileen directed the girls.
She and Jane broke track through the snow. Now and then they glimpsed stretches of the old trail which had not been completely covered, so they were sure they were going the right way.
A moment later, Jane sang out: “Here we are. Our tree was right beside this tall one—but where is it now?”
She and Eileen, who were ahead, both stopped short. Only an ugly stump arose from the place where the birds’ Christmas tree had stood the previous day.
Someone had chopped down the evergreen during the night!
“Why, it’s gone! Our lovely tree is gone!” cried Eileen in a shrill voice.
The Brownies were so stunned they hardly said a word. They could not believe a mistake had been made in the tree’s location, for in the snow nearby were bits of ribbon and string and a pine cone with food still pressed into it.
“Oh, how could anyone be so mean?” demanded Connie.
“Especially when the woods is filled with nice evergreens,” added Rosemary, stooping to pick up the pine cone. “Why couldn’t Mr. Jeffert have cut down another tree?”
“I don’t believe Mr. Jeffert did it,” said Connie soberly. “Our tree probably was chopped down by that same thief who has been sneaking onto his property.”
“And I agree,” commented Miss Gordon. “Mr. Jeffert never would have cut down our tree.”
Behind them, the girls heard footfalls in the snow. Whirling around, they saw Mr. Jeffert himself striding toward them.
“Who speaks my name?” he called cheerily.
“Oh, Mr. Jeffert!” cried Connie. “You didn’t take our tree, did you?”
She pointed to the stump and told the land owner what had happened. Mr. Jeffert’s round face became as dark as a late afternoon sky.
“I certainly did not cut that tree!” he exclaimed. “But I have a good idea who may have chopped it down. Late last night I saw Clem Stone walking this way. He saw me watching from the woods and went on. I have a notion he may have sneaked back later.”
“Then you believe Mr. Stone is the one who has been stealing your trees?” Miss Gordon asked, looking worried.
“I’ve no proof. Clem is out of a job though, and he may be trying to raise money by selling a few of my trees. He didn’t speak last night when he went past, and he was carrying an axe.”
“But so was Mr. Gossart,” revealed Connie.
“Mr. Gossart?”
“We met him after we fixed the tree for the birds,” Connie explained. “He was carrying an axe the same as Mr. Stone.”
“Well, one can’t convict a man for having an axe,” admitted Mr. Jeffert. “I probably was hasty in saying Mr. Stone could have cut the tree. It might have been anyone.”
“Then you don’t think it was Mr. Stone after all?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’ve watched the woods night after night without catching the culprit. The fellow, whoever he is, is too smart for me.”
Now that the birds’ tree had been taken, the Brownie hike seemed quite purposeless. After talking with Mr. Jeffert for a while, the girls selected another evergreen which he promised to cut for their Christmas at the farm, and then they turned toward home.
“Let’s take a shortcut through the fields,” proposed Sunny who had wearied.
Accordingly, they rolled under a wire fence, and set off through the deep snow. Although the distance was much shorter than by the road, the drifts made walking very hard.
When the snow was firm, the girls could walk along quite easily. But every few feet the crust would give way, and down they would plunge, nearly to their waists. However, it was fun and even Miss Gordon did not mind.
“Who lives in that little cabin?” Connie asked as they drew near a lighted dwelling.
Although it was not yet supper time, shadows were deepening everywhere. In another half hour it would be very dark.
“Why, the Stones live there,” said Miss Gordon.
Smoke curled lazily from the cabin’s chimney. A shaggy dog lounged on the back doorstep. The Stone children were nowhere to be seen.
The Brownies trudged on, coming quite close to the cabin. There were no curtains or blinds at the windows. Without meaning to look the girls peered directly into the Stones’ kitchen.
Just inside the window stood a perfectly shaped Christmas tree! Strings of popcorn and cranberries were its only decoration.
Jane Tuttle saw the tree and clutched Connie’s arm excitedly.
“There it is!” she cried. “Our evergreen! Mr. Jeffert was right! Mr. Stone did chop it down!”