"Now, listen," quoth Ruth, in a most confidential tone, "I don't call myself sensational, and in fact, people at Long Leigh generally have the name of minding their own business; but there is something mighty queer about Mr. Sanders." She paused while Nancy waited for further explanation. "He does _not_ live in the old gray house, for father's men went through the entire place the other day, he's in real-estate you know," she explained, "and there wasn't a thing to show that the old house had been opened since they inspected it last." "Couldn't he camp in the barn or somewhere outside the house?" queried Nancy. "No; the barn was locked up tight as tuppence," insisted Ruth. "But he seems to hang out somewhere on that hill, just the same," she added. "I know!" exclaimed Nancy. "He goes up in a tree with the wires and springs," and she sprang up and down without either. "Some day I'm going up there and I bet _I'll_ solve the mystery," she promised gaily. "Let us know when you're going, Nan," suggested Ruth. "We wouldn't want to have you swallowed up by--the fairies." "Say," whispered Isabel, her eyes set in what looked like alarm, "do you know, I saw a little woman come up and down our side steps a half dozen times this morning--" "Oh!" and Nancy laughed merrily. "That would be little Miss Manners, the dressmaker who lives in the tiny bungalow under our window. You see, Mother wouldn't really let us keep store without some supervision. She's pretty particular, and declares there is no telling who might pop in--" "And hold us up for our cash box--!" Ruth added so mirthfully as to suggest a good time in the danger. "Well, any how," continued Nancy, "Mother insists that Miss Manners look in quite often to see that everything is all right. She's as quiet as a mouse--" "I should say she is," Isabel confirmed. "In fact, I didn't want to frighten you or I should have told you someone was sneaking in," she added, folding up a tape line as she spoke. "Oh, Miss Manners is so quaint, as Vera would say," Ruth contributed, "that I think she ought to be a partner, if a silent partner, in the Whatnot Shop." "Yes," agreed Nancy, "it does seem as if this shop should belong to little old people like Miss Townsend, and I guess that's why Miss Manners is so interested. You see, girls, I'm still a very poor housekeeper, and our maid, Anna, won't be back until fall. After I get tired playing store, I suppose," and she sighed heavily, "I'll be expected to start in playing house." "But if you run the shop as you have done this morning," Isabel interposed, "don't you suppose your mother will think you're a real genius at business?" she inquired.