“Well, did you ever!” exclaimed Jane, amazed by the sight. “Who would throw away valuable tulips?” “And so many of them!” gasped Connie. “Tulip bulbs are expensive. Why, there must be twenty or thirty dollars worth here at least!” “Let’s pick them all up,” proposed Jane excitedly. “The ones we don’t want for our own gardens, we can sell!” A few of the bulbs had broken open or had been crushed. Many were in perfect condition. The girls filled their skirts, not stopping until they had gathered every bulb. “We can take them to my house,” Jane said. “My, but we have a lot of ’em. Enough for a wonderful garden.” Vevi noticed a piece of canvas lying in the gutter. Putting down her skirtful of bulbs for a moment, she picked it up. “Why, this is a bag,” she said in astonishment. “It must have held some of the tulips.” “Someone dumped them here,” Jane agreed. “I can’t understand why, either. They look like perfectly good bulbs to me.” Vevi examined the canvas bag carefully. She noticed that it bore numbers and was stamped “Holland.” “That means these are imported bulbs,” she declared. “This empty bag looks just like the one I have at home. The number is different though.” “You don’t think Hanny or her uncle dumped these tulips here?” Connie asked. “I’m sure they didn’t,” Vevi replied. “Maybe it was Mrs. Gabriel.” “Why should she do such a thing?” demanded Jane. “It seems silly,” Vevi agreed soberly. “All the same, this bag looks like some she had in her car. She told me her big Holland order had just been delivered.” “It couldn’t have been Mrs. Gabriel,” Jane argued. “If she had just bought the bulbs, she certainly wouldn’t throw them away.” “Maybe they weren’t good enough for her garden,” Vevi speculated. “She’s real fussy, I guess.” The girls stuffed as many bulbs as they could into the empty bag. The remainder they carried in their hands to Jane’s home. “What will we do with so many tulips?” Connie asked. “Shall we use them for the Brownie Scout garden at the library?” “Oh, no,” Vevi said in quick protest. “I want to plant my Golden Beauties there.” “But those bulbs are only culls,” Jane argued. “Most of these are nice big fat ones.” “Maybe size doesn’t count,” Vevi replied. “They couldn’t have been much good, or they wouldn’t have been thrown away.” “That’s so,” agreed Connie, siding with her friend. “Maybe the bulbs are dead and won’t grow. Besides, Hanny might not like it if we don’t use her bulbs.” “Okay,” Jane consented. “I’ll get the digging tools. We can leave these bulbs in our garage until we decide where to plant them.” An empty shelf along one side of the garage provided a place for the bulbs. The girls lined them up in neat rows. “They do look just like onions!” Jane laughed. “I hope Mother doesn’t use them for a stew.” “All of the bulbs are the same size, large and plump,” Connie noticed. “That is, all but about twenty or so. Vevi, you don’t suppose--”