Mr. Wilbur Drew, who was likewise a lawyer, had rebuilt and
added to and improved and otherwise transformed the farmhouse until it
was an attractive and important-looking dwelling.

In it lived the lawyer and his wife, his daughter, Amy, and Darrington
Drew, when he was home from college. This was another happy family--in
a way. Yet they were just a little different from the Norwoods. But
truly "nice people."

When Amy Drew once gave her mind to a thing she could be earnest
enough. The little her chum had read her from the magazine article
began to interest her. Besides, whatever Jessie was engaged in must of
necessity hold the attention of Amy.

She laid aside the knitting and went to sit beside Jessie in the
swing. They turned back to the beginning of the article and read it
through together, their arms wound about each other in immemorial
schoolgirl fashion.

Of course, as Amy pointed out, they were not exactly schoolgirls now.
They were out of school--since two days before. The long summer
vacation was ahead of them. Time might hang idly on their hands. So it
behooved them to find something absorbing to keep their attention
keyed up to the proper pitch.

"Tell you what," Amy suggested. "Let's go down town to the bookstore
and see if they have laid in a stock of this radio stuff. We want one
or two of the books mentioned here, Jess. We are two awfully smart
girls, I know; we will both admit it. But some things we have
positively got to learn."

"Silly," crooned Jessie, patting her chum on the cheek. "Let's go.
We'll walk. Wait till I run and see if Momsy doesn't want something
from down town."

"We won't ask Mrs. Drew that question, for she will be pretty sure to
want a dozen things, and I refuse--positively--to be a dray horse. I
'have drew' more than my share from the stores already. Cyprian in the
car can run the dear, forgetful lady's errands."

Jessie scarcely listened to this. She ran in and ran out again. She
was smiling.

"Momsy says all she wants is two George Washington sundaes, to be
brought home in two separate parcels, one blonde and one brunette,"
and she held up half a dollar before Amy's eyes.

"Your mother, as I have always said, Jess, is of the salt of the
earth. And she is well sugared, too. Let me carry the half dollar,
honey. You'll swallow it, or lose it, or something. Aren't to be
trusted yet with money," and Amy marched down the steps in the lead.

She always took the lead, and