CHAPTER 6 A Missing Coverlet

VEVE was happy as a lark, humming a Brownie song as she stripped cherries into her pail. Now that she had learned the trick of pulling the fruit from the trees, it was much easier for her to keep up with the other pickers.

Furthermore, she had a secret! In fact, two of them.

“What makes you so chirpy this morning?” demanded Connie, who was picking in the next tree.

“Oh, I’m just feeling top-notch!” laughed Veve. “Thinking of that good lunch we’ll soon be eating!”

“That’s not entirely the reason,” insisted Connie. “You’ve been pepped up ever since we drove out here this morning. In fact—you acted as if you saw something on the way that gave you a big lift.”

“Maybe I did.”

“Well, I didn’t see anything different than usual.”

“Then you couldn’t have looked where I did,” Veve teased. “I saw it right close to Pa Hooper’s farm—at the first one down the road.”

“Carl Wingate’s place?”

“Goodness, no. I mean the house on this side of the road.”

“Well, I didn’t see anything,” Connie declared. She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Stop teasing me, Veve! What did you notice?”

“A quilt hanging on the line!” Veve announced, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, it was a beauty, Connie! Even from the road I could see that the pattern was unusual—all stars and wheels in blue and white.”

“I must have been looking the other direction. I didn’t see it.”

“None of the Brownies did. It was flapping there on the clothesline as much as to say, ‘Come and get me, Veve!’ That’s what I intend to do! At lunch time, I’m going to slip over to that house and ask the lady if she’ll let me have the quilt for our show.”

In her enthusiasm, Veve did not realize that she was talking in a loud, shrill voice. Jane Tuttle, who was working in the next tree, heard the conversation. She became so interested that for a minute or two she forgot to pick cherries.

“I guess I won’t be a tail-ender after all!” Veve declared in satisfaction. “I’ll beat Jane!”

The little girl said no more about the quilt. However, when at last Miss Gordon signaled the Brownies that it was time to knock off for luncheon, she was off her ladder in a flash.

“See you later!” she called to Connie. “Save me some lunch, if I’m late.”

Miss Gordon was directing the girls and their mothers to the big oak where lunch was to be served. In counting noses, she failed to see Jane Tuttle.

“Why, I wonder where she is?” she inquired aloud. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her around for the last fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Jane went to the shed awhile ago to weigh in her fruit,” Sunny informed. “I never saw her come back though.”

At that very moment, one of the girls sighted the missing Brownie. She came walking jauntily through the gate, pigtails swinging. Her shoes were quite dusty, an indication that she had tramped along the road.

“Oh, girls! Guess what?” she greeted the Brownies. Jane looked directly at Veve as she spoke.

“Where have you been?” Veve demanded suspiciously.

Jane laughed. “Off looking for a quilt!” she informed saucily. “Found one too!”

“You found a quilt for the Brownie show?” Veve asked in a weak voice.

“At the farm next to this one! Oh, it’s a dandy! Blue and white. It’s called the Ship’s Wheel pattern. The lady who owns it says she’ll be glad to let me have it for the display.”

“She’ll let you have it!” Veve cried. “But that was my quilt!”

“It wasn’t yours until you had it promised,” chuckled Jane. “The early bird catches the worm, you know! You’re a pretty late bird, Veve.”

“You heard me tell Connie about the quilt!” Veve accused. “Then you sneaked off before I had a chance and asked for it.”

“So what?” laughed Jane. “You can get another quilt. Only of course, this makes you the tail-ender!”

Miss Gordon, who had heard the girls arguing, came over to ask what was wrong. Veve told her what had happened.

“Why, Jane,” the Brownie leader said in surprise. “I didn’t think you would do a thing like that. It doesn’t seem quite honest or fair.”

“I only wanted to get ahead of Veve,” Jane said, now feeling ashamed of herself. “Oh, well! I’ll give her the old quilt.”

Veve, however, was too proud to accept it.

“No, thank you,” she said. “I will find another one—a much nicer pattern.”

The other Brownies did not tease Veve about being a ‘tail-ender.’ In fact, they very carefully avoided talking about the Ship’s Wheel quilt. Jane knew that the girls felt she had been unfair in taking Veve’s quilt. She was sorry now that she had done it, but she did not know how to make amends.

The girls and their mothers ate lunch under the oak tree. While they rested, Miss Gordon brought out the mysterious package Veve had seen her slip into the car that morning.

“Here’s the surprise,” the Brownie leader announced. “Our quilt—entirely finished!”

As the teacher carefully spread the quilted coverlet on the grass the girls exclaimed in delight.

The quilt might be “crazy” in pattern, but never had they seen such a splash of gay colors! Blue, gold, red, green, yellow and every hue of the rainbow.

Altogether, the quilt was so beautiful that the girls disliked the thought of selling it. Of course they would, however, for the organization needed money.

“How did you finish it so quickly?” Connie inquired.

“I had many willing helpers,” Miss Gordon explained. “Last night we had a quilting bee at my home.”

“What’s a quilting bee?” questioned Sunny curiously.

“A quilting party,” Miss Gordon explained. “I invited teachers from the Rosedale School and a number of my other friends. First we tacked the quilt onto wooden frames. Then we put a backing on it and filled in a layer of cotton. Finally, we tacked it down and took it from the frames.”

“My, that must have been a lot of work!” exclaimed Rosemary. “Even more than making the quilt blocks.”

“It was,” admitted the teacher. “But finishing such a fine quilt was well worth while. Don’t you all feel that way about it?”

“Oh, yes!” agreed the Brownies.

Miss Gordon showed the girls the lower right-hand corner of the quilt. In tiny red stitches, the Rosedale Brownie Troop name had been etched in.

“Oh, I like that!” Connie cried. “Now, even though someone else buys our quilt, the Brownie name always will be on it.”

“It’s almost like having an autograph quilt,” declared Veve.

While the other girls chattered excitedly about the coming quilt show, Jane Tuttle had nothing to say.

In truth, she felt quite ashamed of the way she had acted.

“Don’t feel bad, Jane,” Veve said to cheer her. “It’s all right about the quilt. I’ll find another.”

Jane brightened at that. “I’ll help you get one, Veve,” she promised.

Then she added: “You know something? While I was at that next-door house, I learned some interesting things about Mr. Hooper.”

“You did?” Veve was eager to hear all about it.

“His house burned down nearly three years ago, the lady said. And guess why he never rebuilt it!”

“Maybe he didn’t have the money.”

“That’s not the real reason,” replied Jane. “He didn’t rebuild the house, because he’s afraid he will lose his entire orchard.”

“Lose it? How? Doesn’t he have enough money to pay the taxes?” Veve had heard her mother say that to hold property one had to pay taxes regularly.

“Oh, it isn’t that!” Jane explained impatiently. “He’s afraid he will have to turn the place over to Mr. Wingate.”

“To that old demon!”

“It’s because of a will or something,” Jane said vaguely. “The lady told me, but I didn’t pay close attention. Anyway, Pa Hooper and Mr. Wingate have had a lot of trouble. They’re cousins, but they dislike each other.”

“I can’t blame Mr. Hooper for not liking Carl Wingate,” Veve declared with feeling. “Why, it would be dreadful if he would get both orchards.”

“The quilt lady seemed to think that’s the way it will turn out. She said Pa Hooper is afraid this harvest is the last one he’ll ever get from his orchard. And he may lose most of it too!”

“Why will he lose his cherries, Jane?”

“Because the fruit is ripening so fast. He expected the Mexican pickers two days ago, but they’re still at the Wingate place. Mr. Hooper can’t get them until they’ve finished Wingate’s picking.”

“He has us.”

“But you know we’re not fast pickers, Veve. A good stripper can get almost 300 pounds a day from a tree. Mr. Hooper needs two experienced pickers to every acre. At least that’s what the quilt lady told me.”

“I wish the Mexicans would leave Mr. Wingate’s place and come here.”

“So do I, but they have to finish their contract first. Mr. Wingate has a heavy crop, and he won’t let the pickers move on until they’re completely finished.”

As the girls talked, Miss Gordon called that it was time to return to the orchard. Before leaving, she carefully folded the quilt inside out and left it lying on the grass not far from the picnic baskets.

During the afternoon, the Brownies and their mothers picked steadily.

The work seemed much easier now. Even so, everyone began to grow a little tired about four o’clock.

Mrs. Davidson had just finished filling her bucket when, without warning, the breeze began to freshen.

Two or three strong gusts swept through the orchard, blowing papers and stirring the limbs of the trees.

“Girls, better come down from your ladders,” Miss Gordon called. “It looks as if we’re in for a wind storm.”

Scarcely had the girls descended, however, than the wind died away as quickly as it had come.

“False alarm,” laughed Miss Gordon. “We may as well go back to work.”

Mrs. Davidson said it was time for her to go home and start supper. She was the first to leave, taking Sunny with her.

After that, Mrs. Williams had to go and so did Eileen’s mother. They promised, however, that if the weather remained favorable, they would return the following morning.

“Mr. Hooper really needs every picker he can get,” Miss Gordon said soberly. “He tells me his entire crop must be harvested before the end of the week. Otherwise, much of the fruit will be rejected by the cannery as over-ripe.”

One by one the mothers left the orchard, taking their daughters with them. Miss Gordon was among the last to depart.

“Girls,” she said to Veve and Rosemary, who were to ride with her, “will you bring the lunch baskets, please?”

Hand in hand, they raced to the oak tree where lunch had been served. All but two of the baskets already had been loaded into other cars.

“I’m glad there’s not much to carry,” Veve said.

She picked up one of the baskets and gave the other to Rosemary.

At the parked car, Miss Gordon shoved the hampers into the rear luggage compartment.

“There, I guess we have everything,” she declared. “My, but I am tired.”

“So am I,” yawned Veve. “After this picking job is over, I’ll go to bed and sleep a million years!”

The two girls curled up on the back seat, intending to relax during the ride into Rosedale.

A truck from the canning factory had blocked the entrance gate to Pa Hooper’s property. Not until it had moved on with its load of fruit, was Miss Gordon able to drive out into the main road.

The automobile had traveled perhaps a mile toward the city when the Brownie leader thought of an important matter.

“By the way, I don’t recall packing the Brownie crazy quilt,” she said. “Did either of you look after it?”

“Not I,” said Rosemary.

“Neither did I,” returned Veve. “I didn’t even see the quilt under the tree when we picked up the lunch baskets.”

“Maybe one of the mothers took it,” suggested Rosemary.

Miss Gordon now was rather troubled.

“I should have thought about the quilt, but it slipped my mind,” she said, slowing the car. “It may have been left under the tree. I believe we should drive back there to make certain.”

The Brownie leader turned the automobile around and returned to the Hooper orchard. This time she went with Rosemary and Veve to the oak tree where they had eaten the picnic lunch.

However, they could not find the crazy quilt.

“One of the Brownie mothers may have taken it,” Miss Gordon decided. “Oh, well, I wanted to be sure the quilt wasn’t left behind. Odd, I didn’t see anyone carry it to a car.”

En route back to Rosedale, the Brownie leader did not have a great deal to say. Veve and Rosemary could not tell whether she was uneasy about the quilt or was thinking of other matters.

Miss Gordon dropped Rosemary off at the Fritche home. Mrs. Fritche said she had not seen the crazy quilt either.

“Perhaps Mrs. Davidson has it,” she suggested. “As I recall, she was one of the first to leave.”

“I’ll telephone all the mothers,” the Brownie leader said. “Someone must have the coverlet.”

Before taking Veve home, Miss Gordon stopped at her own residence. From there she called Mrs. Davidson.

Sunny’s mother reported that she had not seen or taken the crazy quilt from beneath the tree.

In turn, Miss Gordon called all the mothers who had attended the picnic. Mrs. Williams was the last name on her list.

“Why, no,” replied Connie’s mother, in answer to the Brownie leader’s question. “I did not take the quilt. For that matter, I didn’t even notice that it was under the tree.”

Miss Gordon turned away from the telephone, very much discouraged.

“Veve,” she said, “how can I tell the Brownies? After all our work, the crazy quilt is gone! While we were so busy picking, I’m afraid someone took it!”