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CHAPTER V
THE PARTY

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The door of the Washburn bungalow yielded easily to Mollie’s cautious touch. She opened it just wide enough for the passage of Mr. Wags. She set him within the aperture, gave him a gentle push, and closed the door again.

Now, though the small dog had become philosophical during the changes and adversities of the past few days, here was a situation that even the most patient of cocker spaniels must resent. To be parted from his new friends—the only friends he had now—was bad enough. But to be thrust unceremoniously into a strange place, a place without one familiar smell! The thing was too much!

Mr. Wags nosed wistfully at the closed door for a moment, then sat upon his haunches and emitted one loud and doleful wail.

The young folks outside giggled.

Betty dropped the brilliant-hued sweater she was making and jumped to her feet. Allen had been reading extracts of news to her from the evening paper. At the plaint of Mr. Wags he grinned, then quickly concealed his amusement as Betty turned to him.

“Whatever was that, Allen? It sounded like a dog!”

“Goodness!” exclaimed Allen dramatically as Mr. Wags paddled forlornly into the room. “It is a dog!”

The red ribbon adorning the silky neck of Mr. Wags had slipped and hung beneath one drooping ear. He paused in the doorway and fixed a wistful eye upon his audience. Then slowly and plaintively he wagged his tail.

Betty cried out ecstatically and caught the little dog up in her arms.

“You perfectly darling forlorn little puppy you! Did it come to see its mitty? But, honey, your necktie’s wrong. Don’t you know it belongs on top?”

“Surprise! Surprise!”

“Happy birthday!”

“Merry Christmas!”

“Oh, Betty, don’t you love him?”

“Of course she loves me!”

These and countless other exclamations so astonished the utterly unprepared Betty that she dropped Mr. Wags and allowed him to crawl into the tempting seclusion offered by the couch.

“Girls, you are giving me a surprise!”

“Did you just find that out, simpleton?”

“And such a beautiful surprise! Come here, all of you, and be hugged!”

“Does that invitation include us?” asked Will hopefully.

“Here, I protest!” came from Allen.

“Oh, go away, silly!” from Betty, as she gave him a gentle push. “I guess I can hug any one I want on my birthday.”

It was some time before any one thought to question the whereabouts of Mr. Wags.

“I think he went under the couch,” Frank volunteered. “At the first wild shout I saw him disappear.”

Betty went down on her knee, peered under the couch and begged Mr. Wags to reconsider his decision to retire from all human—or canine—activity. But the small dog refused to budge and Betty had finally to haul him forth, protesting, by one paw.

“That’s your birthday present, Betty, from us all,” said Mollie, pulling at Mr. Wags’ red ribbon until it stood up at a rakish angle. “There! How do you like him?”

“Like him! I think he’s the cutest thing I ever saw! Girls, how did you know I wanted a dog?”

“You told us so yourself,” Amy reminded her. “Don’t you remember?”

“It seems to me I do.” Betty wrinkled her pretty forehead thoughtfully. “I’ve wanted a watch dog for a long time.”

“He ought to make a fine watch dog!” said Will.

Betty looked up suspiciously but the expression of the speaker was grave, not to say solemn.

“Anyway,” she defended, coaxing the small dog to a sitting posture and rubbing her finger along his silken nose, “he would do his best, b’ess him little heart!”

Will threw up his hands in a gesture of despair.

“No matter where you go, you can’t get away from it!”

Betty declared that she must go and change her dress.

“I look like Cinderella among all you gayly dressed maidens,” she said, with a rueful glance at her simple white linen. “One can’t get dinner in a party dress, you know.”

“If you looked any prettier than you do now,” Amy protested, “we other girls wouldn’t have a chance. Be kind, Betty darling, and remain as you are!”

Betty protested at such “base flattery.” But she said nothing more about changing her dress.

The rest of that evening was one round of uninterrupted hilarity.

They pushed back the rugs that covered Betty’s polished floors and some one put a record on the phonograph. Betty was instantly surrounded, to be captured by Roy Anderson and swung into a foxtrot.

The dancing seemed to confuse and abash Mr. Wags at first. He spent most of his time in a far corner, looking acutely miserable. However, before long, the spirit of jollity became so contagious that even Mr. Wags was tempted to abandon his depression and join in the fun.

He began to look alert and interested and even went so far as to yap playfully at a passing ankle now and then.

Betty frequently abandoned protesting partners in favor of Mr. Wags, declaring that since he was the guest of honor she must not neglect him. The small dog seemed to recognize her as a friend and began following her about, wistfully grateful for a pat or any small sign of recognition.

At last Betty flung herself, laughing, into a corner of the couch.

“I must get my breath,” she explained to Frank Haley who happened to be her partner at the moment. “Irene Moore! Where is the child? Come sing us a song, honey. That’s the girl!”

“Goodness! That Betty thinks I don’t need to catch my breath!” came from Irene, with a chuckle. “Still, it’s her party and I suppose she must be humored. Come on, Stella!”

Irene was possessed of a fund of clever and funny songs with which she frequently entertained her friends. And since Stella Sibley was as talented at the piano as she was with pencil and paper, the two girls made a delightfully amusing team.

As Irene began to sing one of her irresistibly comical songs no one noticed that two of the party slipped off to the tiny library that adjoined the living room.

There was a big, comfortably cushioned window seat “in the room and it was to this Will Ford led Amy Blackford. Only one dim, electric lamp lit the place and that with a soft, rosy glow that rather enhanced the duskiness of the place. A splendid spot for confidences!

Amy was looking particularly sweet and pretty in a soft blue organdie with tiny flowers in pastel shades nestling in the lace at the throat of it. She was happy, too, and excitement had brought a flush to her usually pale cheeks.

“What fun!” she said softly, moving over to make room for Will beside her. “Betty and Allen are so happy.”

“Why shouldn’t they be with a little house like this and Allen making his way up in his profession? Be funny if they weren’t.”

Amy glanced at him questioningly.

“You said you had something to tell me, Will?”

“Have I! Say Amy, what would you say if I told you that I’m in line for a big advance—an advance that will just about double my present salary?”

“Really?” Amy was leaning toward him eagerly. “Will, how splendid!”

“Better than that!” cried Will buoyantly. “Of course,” he added more soberly, “I haven’t cinched it yet, but I’ve heard on very good authority that my name has been mentioned for the new position. I couldn’t believe it at first. There are so many other chaps in the office who could fill the position better than I——”

“I don’t believe it!” interrupted Amy loyally. “If that were so, they wouldn’t be giving it to you.”

Will looked at her and was suddenly encouraged to reach for her hand.

“Amy I’ve been wanting to ask you so long——”

“Oh, so there you are, you runaways! Get out of that seat immediately! We need it!”

The Outdoor Girls at Foaming Falls

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