Polly had been gazing at the two faces printed on the front sheet of the morning paper, but now she laughed. "Oh, if I looked like that picture, I could have put out the fire by merely turning my face to it!"

Anne and her mother came in when they heard Mr. Maynard's loud laughter.

They, too, stared at the oval-framed pictures said to be "The two heroines of the dreadful fire at a.s.sembly Hall."

"Anne, where under the sun did the newspapers get those two pictures?"

asked Polly, t.i.ttering every time she saw the ovals.

"Every newspaper has a department known as the 'morgue,' or some such name. They keep, filed away, pictures of every well-known person in the world. In the package indexed under the proper name, are one or two 'cuts' ready to use in case of a hurry. Then when a person dies, or is married, or something or other happens, the newspaper rushes to its files and gets out the picture, or cut, needed.

"It is the same with famous buildings, or ships, or objects of any kind.

If something comes up that brings the thing to the public attention, there the papers have the pictures all ready to print.

"Now they keep lots of photographs, just like these two, which they buy from cheap photographers. They buy a hundred in a job lot, and if they want a picture and can't secure a legitimate one, or a snap-shot from the reporter's kodak, they use what they have on hand.

"It would be extremely amusing to be present when these girls see their faces in the paper. It will prove almost as funny as seeing you two girls scorning these strange faces."

But Mr. Maynard had been reading the article while Anne had explained the methods of many newspapers, and now he exclaimed: "By jove! Dalken never said a word about all this life-history!"

"What's that, Daddy? Read it to us," begged Eleanor, eagerly.

"Why-wh-y-y-the young rascal hit it right on the head, all right! But where did he get it?" continued Mr. Maynard.

"For pity's sake-read it aloud!" commanded Eleanor, hardly able to hold her tongue about the story.

Then Mr. Maynard read it, and it lost none of its vivid coloring by his reading, either. When he had almost concluded, Polly began to grow angry. When he finished, she was furious.

"I'm going up to that office and I'll fight that reporter. He had no more right to print that than those other men had to use someone else's photographs and call them ours. So there!"

Mr. Maynard had been thinking seriously, and now he nailed Eleanor with a penetrating look. "Nolla, did you tell that young rascal this story when you ran to the door with his pencil and paper last night?"

"No, indeed! I did not, Daddy! You can ask the butler if I ever did! He stood right there when I handed Dunlap the pencil!"

Eleanor's denial was so emphatic that everyone believed she was innocent of any such plot; so they never found out who was the guilty one.

While at breakfast, the telephone rang. "This is Mr. Latimer, Anne. We have just read the papers and were so surprised! When we saw the pictures of the two heroines, we feared some dreadful thing had happened to distort their faces so that we failed to recognise them, and I hastened to inquire. Do you need Dr. Evans' services to straighten out those faces?"

An amused laugh could be heard over the wire, and Anne laughed back.

"No, thanks; a good night's rest has brought back their natural looks.

The faces in the paper must have been taken by the flickering flame of the burning dwelling."

"Jim and Ken came home late last night for the Holiday. We wanted to congratulate you girls on trying so hard for the Carnegie Medal, but now Jim wants to say 'good-morning.'"

In another moment, Jim's voice was heard speaking. "Oh, good-morning, Anne. Have you used Pears Soap?" Then a gay laugh.

"We have, but you haven't! Your father just told me you got in at midnight, and if you're up as early as this, I'm sure the sleep hasn't been washed from your eyes," retorted Anne.

Polly and Eleanor crowded close and hung over the 'phone so they could hear what Jim had to say.

"I only wanted to say, I've got tickets for the show, to-night, and the girls are not to go anywhere else."

"Oh, tell him we're out of town on a week-end party," Eleanor whispered, hurriedly to Anne.

"Are the tickets good for Eleanor's father and my mother, in case the girls go out of town?" teased Anne.

"Say-you really don't mean that?" Jim's voice sounded very sad.

"I cannot tell a lie-I am like George, you see, and I'll let the girls fib for themselves," laughed Anne, getting up from the stool and handing the instrument to Polly.

"Oh, here, Nolla! You do it! You know I don't like this jiggery quivery thing!" cried Polly, quickly placing the telephone apparatus on the table and making room for Eleanor on the chair.

Eleanor was delighted to talk with Jim, and she kept at it until a clicking in her ear notified her that someone wanted to get them on the wire, so she hurriedly rang Jim off.

"h.e.l.lo!" called Eleanor to the next inquirer.

"h.e.l.lo-1234 Madison Square?"

"Yes."

"This is Mr. Ashby speaking. Is this one of the heroines?"

"Oh, Mr. Ashby! Yes, it is Nolla. What do you think of the story in the paper-and the funny photographs?" laughed Eleanor.

"I laughed myself sick over it at breakfast. My wife and I wondered how that young rascal got them, and James explained."

Here Eleanor turned white, for she wondered if the butler really had seen her wink at Dunlap. "My, but I'm thankful I got at this wire instead of Anne," said she to herself.

"Two of our maids had their postal-card pictures taken the other day, and upon rushing out of the front door to watch the fire last night, they laid them upon the hall table. James saw them there, later, but thinking the girls would soon be coming in to take them upstairs, he did nothing about it.

"Then in the excitement of watching Miss Polly climb the front of the house, and have the Chief carry her over to our house, the pictures were completely forgotten. As the young reporter went out, James saw Miss Eleanor take his hat from the stand and hand it to him. But nothing was thought about the cards. Later, however, they were gone.

"This morning the papers have the photographs of Mary, the waitress, and Gladys, the upstairs girl, as heroines of the fire. Maybe our maids are not tickled to pieces to find themselves so famous."

Eleanor heard both Mr. and Mrs. Ashby laughing merrily over the mistake, and then she said: "Do you suppose I handed the cards to Dunlap when I picked up his papers and hat?"

"Undoubtedly. But the joke is, he thinks you meant to do it very secretly, you see, so he never mentioned it but hurried the work on the pictures so as to have them in the morning's paper. He most likely believes that that was why you ran after him-to manage to give him those two photographs to use. I think the laugh is entirely on him, don't you, Eleanor?"

But Eleanor did not say. She sat and studied the pattern in the rug for a time, refusing to answer all the questions asked. Then she decided that Mr. Ashby must have heard from Dunlap that morning, and was told how she had added many facts to Mr. Dalken's story. But this funny error of using the maid's photographs, was retribution on her head.

The young people, with Anne to chaperone them, enjoyed the play that night, and then the boys outlined the programme they had made for the week.

The next day, being Thanksgiving, the entire party was to dine at the Latimers'. Then they would go for an automobile drive, and in the evening all would enjoy an impromptu supper and dance at the Evans'.

Friday morning the boys would take the girls skating at St. Nicholas Rink. They begged to attend Mr. Fabian and the girls in the afternoon at the Textile Exhibition, then dinner at the Studio, and another play at night.

Sat.u.r.day morning the girls were going to visit Mr. Ashby's famous decorating establishment, and get a glimpse first-hand of what a modern decorator must do and know to succeed. In the afternoon the boys wanted to take in a matinee, but the girls were invited to dinner at the Ashbys, and to spend the evening with their daughter Ruth. So Jim said nothing, but he instantly planned how to meet the Ashbys.

"Now don't go and make any more dates for next week, without asking us, understand!" declared Jim, when he heard that Sat.u.r.day was engaged and Sunday, partly so.