Part 20 (1/2)

”They've just chased him away from home,” said Dorothy. ”Billy Long never helped those burglars.”

”Of course he didn't,” said Mr. Norman. ”That's what _I_ say. Only folks who don't know the boy will say they believe the police.”

”And don't you believe Billy is over there on the island?” asked Dora.

”No. He's got away. He's a sharp boy, Billy is, and next thing you'll hear of him, he'll be off working somewhere and sending his folks home a part of his wages, believe me! I know Billy Long,” said the boat-builder.

The Longs lived not far from the Lockwood cottage, and the twins went around through their street. This was on one of those rare days when Alice Long, the oldest sister and the ”mother” of the Long family, stayed at home from the box factory to ”catch up” in her housework.

Until Mrs. Long died, two years before, Alice had gone to Central High, too, and she was a smart and intelligent girl. But she was a faithful one, as well, and she kept the home together for Mr. Long and the younger children, despite the fact that she could spend only a day once in a while at home. A younger girl did many of the ordinary household tasks, as well as looking after Master Tommy Long, an active piece of mischief now four years old.

As the twins came up the walk before the little cottage they heard Tommy bellowing at the top of his lungs--and they were perfectly sound lungs, too!

”What have you got in here--a lion?” asked Dorothy, putting her head in at the open door.

”Better say a monkey!” exclaimed Alice, much exasperated.

She was just then hustling Tommy across the floor so rapidly that the toes of his shoes scarcely touched the carpet. Upstairs she went with struggling, roaring Master Tommy, and in another moment he was shut into a bedroom and the key turned in the lock.

”There!” gasped Alice, coming back and sitting down, after placing chairs for her visitors. ”You think I'm rather harsh with the little plague? You don't know what he's done to-day.”

”Has he been _very_ bad?” asked the tender-hearted Dorothy.

”I should say he has!”

”What's he done?” demanded Dora.

”It has certainly been one of Tommy's 'bad days.' You'd think he was possessed. Poor mother! I can imagine the trouble she used to have with Billy.”

”But what did Tommy do?” asked Dorothy, bent on trying to plead for the culprit, who was now alternately roaring and kicking the panels of the door upstairs.

”One thing he did was to pour sand into my tub of clothes that I had to leave this morning. He called the tub 'Lake Luna' and said he wanted to make an island in the middle of it, like Cavern Island where Billy is hidden.”

”Oh!” gasped Dorothy.

”I had to clean out the tub and rinse the clothes half a dozen times to get the sand out.”

”But, Billy!” exclaimed Dora. ”They say he isn't over at that island.”

”Well, I wish I knew where he was,” sighed the worried sister.

Just then Tommy stopped yelling and spoke in a shrill, but perfectly plain tone:

”Sis! I'm a-goin' to bust a winder and fall out, I am!”

”Oh!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dorothy, jumping up. ”He'll be hurt.”

But Alice put forth a restraining hand to stop her before she could flee to the rescue.

”Don't bother. He doesn't want to jump himself. Tommy is bluffing.”