CHAPTER IV THE LAST HOPE

CHAPTER IV

THE LAST HOPE

That afternoon Billie took herself and a book out on the porch and tried hard, but unsuccessfully, to forget her troubles. The more she tried to fix her attention on the printed page before her, the more the broken statue rose before her eyes until at last she closed the book with a slam and bounced impatiently in her seat.

"That horrid old 'Girl Reading a Book' has spoiled my whole summer for me," she said, her lips pouting rebelliously. "I wish I hadn't gone back to the old school anyway. I might have known it would bring me bad luck. Oh, here comes Laura," and her face brightened as she saw the familiar figure of her chum swinging up the street. "I wonder what she wants. Whatever it is, she seems to be in a terrible hurry about it."

"Hello, what's the rush?" she sang out, as Laura Jordon ran up the steps of the porch.

"It's--it's that--that Nanny goat Amanda Peabody!" cried Laura, panting a little, for she had indeed been in a hurry. "What do you think the old sneak has been up to now?"

"What?" queried Billie, as she moved over to make room for her chum in the seat beside her. "Telling tales again?"

"How did you guess it?" cried Laura, her face flushing with indignation. "And about you, Billie! Oh, I could have killed her!"

"Well, we expected it, didn't we?" Billie asked, in a matter-of-fact tone. "We knew when we saw her looking in at the window that that was exactly what she would do."

"Well, I know. But she went to the janitor about it." And Laura looked as if that in some way magnified the offense.

"Well, there wasn't any one else to go to," remarked Billie reasonably.

"Goodness! aren't you even mad about it?" asked Laura, her blue eyes snapping.

"Not particularly," replied Billie, for she was beginning to be terribly tired of the whole subject. How she hated that imbecile "Girl Reading a Book" and Amanda Peabody and--and--everybody!

"I got all over being angry with Amanda Peabody long ago," she said in answer to Laura's incredulous look. "If I should get that way every time she did anything, I'd never live to grow up!"

In spite of her indignation, Laura chuckled.

"I never did think of it in that way," she admitted, adding, after a minute's thought: "Billie, dear, haven't you thought of some way you might pay for the statue? I didn't sleep a wink last night for thinking of it."

"Neither did I," said Billie gloomily, forgetting that she had in reality slept very soundly. "Chet and I have started a fund with a dollar fifteen of his and seventy-five cents of mine. That's as far as we have got so far. I did think of Uncle Bill," she added slowly, mentioning a great uncle who occasionally visited them.

"Great! Uncle Bill!" repeated Laura, pricking up her ears. "The uncle who used to trot you on his knee and call you 'Bill's Billie'?"

"Yes," Billie nodded. "Uncle Bill and I were always good chums, and I think if I told him what a fix I'm in, he might be able to help. He has loads of money too."

"Billie," cried her chum rapturously, "why didn't you think of that before? Why, it's the very thing!"

"But I hate to ask him," sighed Billie, not sharing Laura's enthusiasm in the least. "I never had to ask anything of anybody before."

"Well, everything has to have a beginning," said Laura, lightly adding, as unconcernedly as she could: "I told Teddy about it last night."

"You did!" cried Billie, turning upon her while the color flooded her face. "Laura, what did you do that for?"

"You don't mind, do you?" queried Laura, wide-eyed. "I'm sure I never thought of your not wanting Teddy to know."

"Oh, I suppose it doesn't make any difference," sighed Billie, adding plaintively: "Only I don't like everybody to know how crazy I am."

"Teddy doesn't think you're crazy," said Laura, with a chuckle, regarding Billie out of the corner of her eye. "In fact, if I should tell you what he does think of you--"

"Oh, don't be foolish," almost snapped Billie, and again Laura chuckled inwardly.

"Well, you needn't be so cross," she said. "I can't help what Teddy does or thinks. Here he comes now," she added, glancing up the street.

"Oh, and I'm a perfect fright!" cried Billie, her hands flying to her hair--hair, by the way, which was arranged in the very best manner to set off Billie's sparkling prettiness. "Laura," she turned accusing eyes upon her chum, "tell the truth. Did you know he was coming?"

"No," said Laura honestly, adding with a little chuckle: "But I sort of had an idea that he might happen along."

If ever a boy looked handsome, it was Teddy Jordon as he swung up the street to Billie's house. He was very tall, looking more like a lad of eighteen than the fifteen years he was. His fair hair waved back from a broad forehead, and his merry gray eyes sparkled with the joy of living.

"Hello!" he greeted the girls, as he took the porch steps two at a time and seated himself on the railing. "Laura has been telling me of your escapade, Billie Bradley, and I've come to find out what you mean by going about busting busts--that isn't good English, is it?"

"It doesn't sound just right," agreed Billie, dimpling adorably. "You speak as if I were bust--pardon me, _breaking_ busts for a living. And it wasn't a bust, but a whole statue. No part way things for me!"

"There's Nellie Bane, I must speak to her," cried Laura, and before either of the others realized what she was up to, she was gone, leaving them alone.

Quite naturally Teddy came over and took the seat his sister had vacated.

"I say, Billie," he said, his handsome eyes regarding her frankly, "you know, I'm really awfully sorry about that business. It makes me mad that you should be troubled with it. You and I have always been pretty good friends, haven't we?" he finished unexpectedly.

Surprised, Billie answered warmly: "The very best of friends, Teddy. We ought to be," she added with a little laugh. "We've known each other pretty nearly forever."

"Then let me help," begged Teddy earnestly. "You know my allowance is away more than I need--"

But Billie stopped him, shaking her head decidedly.

"You're a perfect angel, Teddy, to want to do it," she said. "But I really couldn't let you. Don't you know I couldn't?"

"I don't see why," grumbled Teddy, for after all he was only a boy, and just now a disappointed one. "Laura says you're set on replacing the thing--"

"Of course I'll have to," Billie said.

"And if you are going around getting yourself sick with worry, what sort of good time do you think the rest of us are going to have?" he burst out indignantly, and for the life of her Billie could not help smiling.

For a moment Teddy seemed undecided whether to laugh or be angry, but ended, as he nearly always did, by laughing.

"But it really isn't very funny," he reminded her when they had finished.

"Goodness! you don't have to tell me that," said Billie ruefully. "This is the first good laugh I've had since I broke the old thing."

Teddy looked penitent.

"I'm sorry," he said, adding, with a sudden smile: "I'm glad to know I'm good for something, anyway. I can still make you laugh."

"You very foolish boy," said Billie, patting his hand affectionately. "As if that were all you were good for!"

"Well, if you feel that way, I don't see why you won't let me replace the statue," said Teddy, still nursing his disappointment. "Girls are funny, anyway."

"We know it," said Billie lightly. "But we can't help it. Listen, Teddy," and she leaned toward him confidentially. "I still have one hope left."

Then she told him about Uncle Bill and his fondness for her, and during the recital the boy brightened noticeably.

"Well, I hope the old boy comes up to the scratch," he commented disrespectfully, adding hurriedly as Laura said good-bye to Nellie Bane and started toward them: "And, Billie, if you change your mind about what I asked you let me know. Promise?"

Billie promised, and a few minutes later said good-bye to the brother and sister and watched them down the street with a very warm feeling somewhere in the region of her heart.

"Isn't it great to have friends?" she asked a robin that had perched itself on the edge of the porch and was looking at her knowingly. "And isn't Teddy the handsomest boy you ever saw?" to which the robin, knowing little rascal that he was, nodded not once but twice.

Chet came up on the porch a few minutes later and enticed Billie out for a game of tennis with him, hoping to get her mind off the broken statue. But while she was too full of life and health not to enjoy the swift, swinging game that Chet gave her, the thought of "The Girl Reading a Book" stayed constantly in the back of her mind.

That night after dinner Billie broke the news to her father, and her heart sank as she saw the harassed look that came into his eyes.

"You say it cost a hundred dollars?" he queried, breaking a silence during which Billie had felt like a criminal awaiting sentence. Now she nodded unhappily.

"A hundred dollars," her father repeated. "Well, that's a lot to pay, Beatrice, for just a few minutes' reckless fun. Of course I can pay it, but that will mean putting off some affairs of more pressing importance--"

But Billie could stand it no longer, and with a little cry she flew to him and pressed her soft cheek against his.

"Daddy, I'm a brute to worry you like this!" she cried, penitently. "Please don't worry any more, dear. I'll find some way to replace the old thing myself."

Her father patted her cheek, but the worried frown still remained on his face. Billie started to leave the room but turned before she had reached the door.

"Dad," she said hesitatingly, and he turned to her with a smile. "About Uncle Bill," she said. "He has always given me anything I wanted. Do you suppose he would help?"

"He is out of the country--gone on a business trip that has taken him on an ocean voyage," said her father. "He will be gone for an indefinite period. I thought you knew, Billie. Though, as he just left, I suppose it is not strange you had not heard us speak of it." And with that Mr. Bradley relapsed immediately into his brown study.

Billie opened the door and closed it softly behind her.

"My last hope!" she sighed plaintively. "Now what shall I do?"

“One work. Many languages. One reading experience.”