Then there was a short pause while the orchestra played.

As it ended, Uncle Robert appeared before the curtain. He looked so beautiful to Rosanna in his evening dress with his merry eyes and pleasant smile, that her eyes filled with tears of pride. And he made a beautiful simple little speech. He told the audience a great deal about the Girl Scouts and all the good the organization was doing for the girls and others as well, and then he told of the little lame girl, suffering so hopelessly and so patiently, and how these Girl Scouts had determined to help her. He told them there was no price set on the tickets, because some might feel like giving ten cents or even a quarter or so but that no one was _asked_ to leave more than a nickel. And then he called their attention to the beautiful curtain and told them that that and the scenery was the gift of a friend who was a sign painter, who had done it Sundays and nights after work as his contribution to the benefit, and everybody clapped furiously, and Mr. Harriman and the thirty-five cent gentleman commenced to nudge each other behind Rosanna.

_She_ was sitting on the very front edge of the bench.

Then Uncle Robert said:

"After another short selection by the orchestra there will be a play written by one of the Girl Scouts. We hope that you will enjoy it." He bowed, and stepped behind the curtain, while everybody clapped and Mr.

Harriman thumped with his cane.

As the orchestra struck up, the thirty-five cent gentleman leaned over to Mr. Harriman and said, "What are you going to do about it, d.i.c.k?"

"Do 'swell's you do," said Mr. Harriman.

"Just as much?" questioned the thirty-five cent gentleman.

"Yes," said Mr. Harriman, snorting. "And fifty over!"

"I will break even with you both," said the third gentleman, leaning across.

Mr. Cosgrove took out a check book and a fountain pen and commenced to write. Mr. Harriman leaned behind Rosanna and watched.

"Poh! Hum! Grrrrrr! Piker!" he said, and Mr. Cosgrove, laughing, tore up his check and wrote another which he handed to Mr. Harriman. Rosanna did not think it would be polite to look, but wondered what in the world they were doing when they should have been listening to the music.

"S'all right," said Mr. Harriman. "Girl's pretty lame, isn't she, Rosanna?"

"Gwenny can't walk at all," replied Rosanna, "and even at night her back hurts so she can't sleep."

"Poor little broken pot," said the third gentleman softly. "A pity that the hand of the Potter slipped."

"Save your poetry, Bristol!" grunted Mr. Harriman. "This talks better."

He struck the check book with his pen, and Mr. Bristol, borrowing a page, wrote busily as the curtain rose.

Rosanna, hoping they would forget business for a while, bent her eyes on the stage.

CHAPTER VII

As the play progressed Rosanna commenced to doubt her own senses. It did not seem possible that she could have written anything so good and so interesting.

When the act ended, there was a louder burst of applause than at any other time, and to Rosanna's horror some one in the back of the room commenced to cry, "Author, author!" Rosanna did not realize at first that they meant her and was looking around the room with a great deal of interest when she felt both Mr. Harriman and Mr. Cosgrove pushing her to her feet. She stood up because they shoved her up, and she did not know what to do next.

Then the most amazing thing of all happened.

Mr. Harriman rose to his feet and taking Rosanna firmly by the arm as though she might dash off any instant, he started toward the three little steps at one side of the stage. Up these steps he sternly piloted Rosanna, while everyone in the room clapped and clapped again. All of Louisville knew Mr. Harriman, and when everybody saw that _he_ was escorting the little girl who had written the play, they sat quite still to see what would happen next. When they reached the stage and stood facing the audience, someone called, "Speech, speech!" but that was 'way, 'way beyond Rosanna, who was perfectly overcome anyway. She looked pleadingly at Mr. Harriman, who knew what she meant, and took pity on her.

"Hum, grrrrrr," he commenced. "Ladies and gentlemen, this little lady, who is the author and producer of the play you have just seen, asks me to speak for her. She thanks you for your appreciation, and for the help you are giving to herself and these other generous Girl Scouts in their efforts to a.s.sist a girl less fortunate than themselves. You have heard about the little cripple who is to be benefited by the work of these girls, and I think we, the audience fortunate enough to be present at this memorable occasion, will esteem it a pleasure to do what we can toward making it possible for this little sufferer to obtain a possible cure through a very serious and expensive operation. We thank you.

Grrrrrr!" He _glared_ at Mr. Cosgrove and Mr. Bristol, and bowed.

Rosanna dipped a hasty curtsey, and they went off the stage again as everybody clapped and the music struck up the jolliest piece they knew.

The entertainment was over!

Back with Mr. Cosgrove and Mr. Bristol, each old gentleman shook hands with Rosanna and started for the door, where Uncle Robert, intent on the most important part of all, sat at the table on which was a shoe box with a slot cut in the cover. He was smiling and beaming and saying, "Thank you!" over and over as people congratulated him on Rosanna's play. Miss Hooker stood beside him looking so sweet and true and pretty that when Mr. Harriman came up and looked at her, and started to say "Grrrrrr," it actually sounded like a purr! He hastily shoved something white through the slot, and Mr. Cosgrove and Mr. Bristol followed him, looking very guilty.

Then Mr. Harriman turned back.

"Absolutely confidential, Horton! No newspapers!" he said.

"Absolutely, sir, and thank you," said Uncle Robert, bowing to the three. He commenced to suspect something!

Miss Hooker stooped to whisper something to Robert. As soon as the last person had left the hall, he obeyed the whisper, and taking the precious box, which was sealed with red sealing wax where the cover went on, he went behind the scenes. All the girls were there, as well as the sign painter and the two brothers. These three looked immensely relieved when a fourth member of their s.e.x appeared. Mrs. Hargrave was there too, and she was inviting everyone to walk over to her house and have something to eat. She said she believed it was customary after the first presentation of a play.

When some of the girls said they would have to go home with their folks on account of getting home with escort, Mrs. Hargrave at once added that she had arranged with Mrs. Horton to send the girls home in their automobiles.

So very soon they were all in Mrs. Hargrave's immense dining-room, sitting in chairs ranged round the room and being served chicken bouillon and sandwiches, and fruit salad, and olives, and cocoa, and ice-cream with whipped cream on top. All they could eat of each thing too!

"I can't wait to see the inside of that box," said Mrs. Hargrave after all the Girl Scouts and the sign painter and the two brothers had said good night and thank you, and had gone. "What if these children of ours _do_ have to sleep half the day tomorrow? Telephone your mother, Miss Hooker, that you are here with me, and that you will be home presently, and we will go into the library and watch Robert count the money. And whatever is lacking, when it comes to settling for that operation, Mrs.

Horton and I intend to make up."

Robert Horton laughed.

"I have an idea that you are on the safe side of the bargain, dear lady," he said. "I think this box will surprise us."

"How much do you suppose is in it?" asked Miss Hooker as she started for the telephone. "A hundred dollars?"

"Five hundred at the least," answered Uncle Robert.

Everybody started to hurry for the library at that as though the money in the box would have to be counted as rapidly as possible for fear it might fly away.

Uncle Robert happened to sit beside Miss Hooker again, but Rosanna sat on the other side. He cut the sealing wax and opened the box. There was all sorts of silver money there _except nickels_! There was not one nickel. Dimes, quarters, fifty-cent pieces, and silver dollars, but not a nickel.

Uncle Robert placed the coins in neat piles, then he commenced to stack the paper money. After he had done this, he sorted out five checks, which he laid by themselves quite respectfully, face down.

Then he drew out a pencil and paper and commenced to count. No one spoke. At the last, still keeping the faces of the five checks out of sight, he added them in, covered the paper with his hand, and looked up.

He seemed dazed.

"How much do you think?" he demanded.

"Don't make us guess, Robert," said his mother.

"Two thousand, two hundred and thirty-four dollars and twenty-five cents," he said slowly.

"Impossible!" exclaimed Mrs. Hargrave sharply.

Miss Hooker gave a gasp. The girls, perfectly round-eyed, sat silent.

"There it is!" said Mr. Horton. "Mr. Bristol and Mr. Cosgrove each gave a check for five hundred dollars, and Mr. Harriman wrote his for five hundred and fifty."