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"Why, how funny!" exclaimed Amy . "That's not funny," rejoined Janice seriously. "Is she named Olga Cedarstrom?" "Goodness! I don't know her last name. She comes from one of our tenant houses. It's far away. Mother sent her home with a flea in her ear, now I tell you, after she had broken that dish." Janice was disturbed. "I wish you knew her last name. What sort of looking girl is she?
Janice could only believe that the Swedish girl, either by intention or in some involuntary way, had carried the treasure-box off with her. Yet it did not seem as though Olga Cedarstrom, bad temper and all, could be a thief! That was an awful thought. "Maybe she has done it to plague me," Janice thought. "She is awfully mad at me.
Even if the Lathams positively knew the missing Olga had been named Cedarstrom before her marriage they probably did not know where Olga now was. The people who were the more likely to know, these Johnsons, had gone back to their native land. Janice wondered, despairingly, if Olga had gone back to Sweden too. But the girl was able to hide her trouble from this new acquaintance.
More, Arlo Junior, who was the spring of Janice Day's deeper trouble, for if it had not been for that mischievous wight, Olga Cedarstrom could not have run off with the treasure-box! Arlo Junior had black, curly hair like his father. He had snapping brown eyes, too, and was quick and nervous in his movements. He was forever in trouble.
"I don't care if Arlo Junior does toll cats into our back kitchen and we entertain dancing bears and that half-crazy Delia and folks like Mrs. Watkins or Olga Cedarstrom," she said to daddy. "This is just the nicest house in all the world. Don't you think so yourself, Daddy?" "I never expect to have so much happiness in another house as I have had in this one, my dear," Mr. Day said.
First and foremost the disappearance of that strange Olga Cedarstrom, and the loss of the box of heirlooms, was continually in Janice's mind. The girls at school knew about it, although only Amy knew just how serious the loss was to the Days.
With Olga Cedarstrom or the half-foolish Delia in the house, it was impossible to keep from daddy's eyes the things that went wrong. Now it was different. Mrs. Watkins was very sly in making everything appear all right before Broxton Day. There was waste in the kitchen. Mrs. Watkins was a big eater, but a delicate eater. She never wished to see the same thing on the table twice.
Would neither he nor his daughter ever be able to get over to forget the mementoes of dear mother, and their disappearance with Olga Cedarstrom? Janice often cried herself to sleep thinking of this loss.
"She went away this morning, then?" "Yah. She bane go dis mornin'." "Is her name Olga Cedarstrom?". "No! No!" exclaimed Mrs. Johnson, shaking her head vigorously. "You not b'know dis Olga. She 'nudder girl." "Where is your husband?" asked Mr. Day hopelessly. "Perhaps he can tell me more about her." "Yon Yonson gone to Dover," declared his wife, suddenly shutting the door and leaving Mr.
"If folks will hire them Swedes, 'tis all they can expect," was her comment. There was a finality to this that was uncanny. Janice became sure, right then and there, that Mrs. Bridget Burns would never clear up the wreck Olga Cedarstrom had made of the back kitchen. The girl wished with all her heart that she had boxed Arlo Junior's ears harder.
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