"You mean you'd made the bargain to do this work and you couldn't back out?" said Grandpapa.

Joel looked up and nodded quickly.

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, yes. Well, now, I mustn't hinder you from your work"--old Mr. King turned briskly to his writing again--"or I shall be as bad as Frick--eh, Joel?" and he laughed gayly. "Now trot back and go at your task again."

So Joel, fortified with his pencil, marched back to sit on the floor in the alcove and take up his interrupted work, and Grandpapa's pen went scratching busily over the paper, and nothing else was heard except the buzzing of a big fly outside the window, venting his vexation at his inability to get in.

Meanwhile Frick and the knot of boys had drawn off in astonishment and dismay at the failure of their plan to get Joel Pepper into the delightful expedition.

"What was he doing?" demanded more than one boy.

"I don't know," said Frick; "I couldn't get in."

"Oh, now I know; he's got some secret," said Larry Keep, and he whirled around in vexation and snapped his fingers.

"Maybe it's a flying-machine," suggested another boy.

"Phoo! he couldn't make that in his grandfather's writing-room," said Larry, in derision, yet he looked anxious. Suppose Joel Pepper were really busy over such a splendid thing as that and hadn't told him. "Guess something else."

"I can't think what it is," said Frick, sitting down on the curbstone to become lost in thought--an example to be speedily followed by all the boys, till finally there was a dismal row of them, without a thought remaining of having the expedition on the pond, since Joel Pepper wouldn't come with them.

XV

UP IN ALEXIA'S PRETTY ROOM

Polly was having a bad half-hour with herself, despite all the attractions up in Alexia's pretty room.

"It's no use," she cried, throwing down the little brush with which she was whisking off the dainty bureau-cover. The girls were "setting up" the various adornments that were plentifully strewn about, an occupation that Polly dearly loved, and that Alexia as dearly hated. "I must go home."

Alexia, down on her knees, with her head in the closet, grumbling over the shoe bag, whose contents were in a chronic state of overflow, pulled it out suddenly.

"Why, Polly Pepper!" she exclaimed, in an injured tone. One eye was draped by a cobweb, gained by diving into the closet's extreme corner after a missing slipper, gone for some weeks; and in other ways Alexia's face presented a very unprepossessing appearance. "You said you'd help me with my room this morning."

"Oh, yes, I know," said Polly hurriedly, and running over to Alexia; "but you'll let me off, won't you?--for I've something on my mind. Oh, dear me!"

Alexia hopped up to her feet, the slipper flying off at a tangent, and ran all around Polly Pepper, gazing at her anxiously.

"I don't see anything. Oh, what is it?" she cried.

"You see, the boys wanted to find Joel, and I--" began Polly, twisting her fingers.

"Bother the boys!" exclaimed Alexia, interrupting. "Is that all? They are everlastingly wanting to find Joel. Well"--with a sigh of relief--"we can go back to work again. Why, I must say, Polly, you scared me 'most to death. Oh, dear me! I wish I had let Norah sweep this old closet when she does the room. It's dirty as can be. If Aunt knew it--" The rest of it was lost, as Alexia was down on her knees again, her head back in the closet, with the hope of unearthing more slippers and shoes.

"Alexia, do come out," cried Polly, pulling her gown smartly; "I must speak to you."

"Can't," said Alexia, rummaging away. "There, I've gone and knocked down my blue silk waist! Do pick it up, Polly; it 'll get all dirt, and then won't Aunt scold!"

As if to make matters worse, a voice out in the hall was heard:

"_Alexia?_"

"Misery me!" cried Alexia, scuffling out backward from the closet, the blue silk waist on her head where it had fallen, and in her sudden exit nearly overthrowing Polly Pepper. "Here comes Aunt. Shut the door, Polly--shut it"--scrambling with both hands to get the waist off, while a hook caught in her light, fluffy hair. And Miss Rhys being too near the door for any such protection as Alexia suggested, in she walked.

"What in the world!" She lifted both hands. "Alexia Rhys, is it possible! I concluded not to go down-town, and came back, and to think of this--playing with your best silk waist!"

"I'm not playing," declared Alexia, in a sharp key, tossing back from her head as much of the waist as she could, "and it hurts awfully"--twitching angrily at the hook.

Polly sprang to her a.s.sistance.

"Wait a minute, and I'll get you out," she said.

"And I won't wait," cried Alexia loudly; "it's bad enough to be hooked to death with a horrid old ugly waist, without being scolded to pieces by your aunt."

"Oh, Alexia!" exclaimed Miss Rhys, "to call that beautiful waist an ugly thing!"

"And I'll pull every spear of hair out of my head, but I'll get the thing off. Ow!"--as she began to put her threat into execution.

"Do be still, Alexia," begged Polly, trying to push aside the nervous fingers.

"I won't be still," cried Alexia, casting up a pale eye full of wrath on the side next to Polly, and giving another twitch. "I guess if you'd been hooked up by a horrible old thing, and your aunt came in and scolded you terribly, you wouldn't wait. Ow! Oh, dear me!"

"Then," said Polly, standing quite still, "since you won't let me help you, I'm going home, Alexia."

"Oh, don't," cried Alexia, and she dropped her hands to her side in a flash, the blue silk waist dangling to her head by its hook. "I'll let you help whatever you want to, Polly," she mumbled meekly.

So Polly set to work, Miss Rhys slipping out of the room. Although Alexia's nervous fingers were now not in the way, still, it wasn't easy to disentangle the hook from the thick, fluffy hair, wound in as it was.

"You've tangled it all up," said Polly, bending over it with flushed face, her fingers working busily, "and it's all in a snarl. Dear me! do I hurt?"

"No, never mind," said Alexia; "'tisn't any matter. Don't go home, Polly."

She held her fast by the gown.

"No, of course not," said Polly; "at least not until I get this hook out of your hair. There--oh, dear me! I thought it was quite free. Well, anyway, now it is!" She held up the blue silk waist with a triumphant little flourish, over her own head. "It must be awful to have something fastened to you like that," she said, sympathetically, as she placed the waist on the bed with a sigh of relief.

"Well, I guess you'd think so," a.s.sented Alexia decidedly; "it's too perfectly awful for anything. It pulls like a big vulture with his talons holding your hair." She hopped to her feet and shook herself in delight, her long, light braids flying out gayly. "Well, I am glad that Aunt has gone"--looking around the room, and drawing a long breath.

Polly Pepper stood quite still over by the bed.

"Well--heigh-ho--come on," cried Alexia, dancing over to seize her arm; "let's have a spin." But Polly didn't move.

"Come on, Polly," cried Alexia, with another tug at her arm.