"Well," objected Bess, "it would be hard to understand any one who is only in Chelton two months at summer. If you were at school all year and came home for new clothes, I fancy I would scarcely understand my own twin sister." "Strange," went on Ray, "that boys always so well understand a girl of that type. Now I do not mean that in sarcasm," she hurried to add, noting the impression her remark had made, "but I have always noticed that the girls whom girls think queer boys think just right." "Pure contrariness," declared Bess. "I don't suppose a boy like Jack Kimball thinks more of a girl just because she keeps her home surroundings so mysteriously secret." As usual, Bess had blundered. She never could speak of Jack Kimball and Clip Thayer without "showing her teeth," as Belle expressed it. The machines were running along with remarkable smoothness. The Flyaway seemed to be singing with the Whirlwind, while Daisy's car had ceased to grunt, thanks to the efforts of the workman at her aunt's place. "What will the antique man think of three autos stopping at his door?" inquired Adele of Cora. "Think? Why, it will be the best advertisement he ever had. Likely he will pay us to come again," replied Cora. The street upon which "the mahogany shop" was situated was narrow and dingy enough--the sort of place usually chosen to add to the "old and odd" effect of the things in the dusty window. The proprietor was outside on a feeble-looking sofa. As Cora predicted, he evidently was honored with the trio of cars that pulled up to the narrow sidewalk. Tillie, with the air of a connoisseur, stepped into the shop before the little man with the ragged whiskers had time to recover from his surprise. "Have you a warming pan?" she inquired straightaway, whereat, as was expected, the man produced almost every other imaginable sort of old piece save, of course, that asked for. But Tillie liked to look at all the stuff, and was already running the risk of blood poison, as Cora whispered to Gertrude, with her delving into green brasses and dirty coppers. With the same thought uppermost in their minds, Bess, Belle and Cora were soon busy examining the old furniture. There were many curious and really valuable pieces among the collection, for this man's shop was famous for many a mile. "Tables!" whispered Belle. "Did you ever think there were so many kinds?" Cora approached the owner. "Have you an inlaid table--a card table or one that could be used for one? I would fancy something in unpolished wood." "I know just what you mean," answered the man, "and I expect to have one in a few days. In fact, I already have an order for one--with anchors and oars inlaid." Cora did not start. She winked at Bess, who was always apt to "bubble over." "Anchors?" repeated Cora. "Set in on the sides, I suppose? Well, that would be odd. But where can you get such a piece as that?"