Miss Dimple Suspects Read Online Free PDF Page B

higher if we took it by mouth, but she’s definitely cooler than before.”
    Dimple refused Suzy’s offer of a bed in order to stay close to Peggy, and she was glad she did because the child woke during the night crying for Kate. Her teacher calmed her by assuring her she would be going home to her parents in the morning and even managed to persuade the little girl to take a few sips of water.
    Mae Martha had turned in soon after supper and Suzy made herself comfortable with a pallet on the rug. Growing weary of sitting, Dimple walked about the room, noticing for the first time the colorful paintings that hung on the walls. Most were landscapes painted in oils as well as scenes of everyday life on a farm, and the longer she looked, the more she began to feel she had seen this style of painting before. Although the room was darkened now, there was enough light from the fire for her to see the initials M.M.H. in the corner of a painting of an apple orchard that hung over the mantel. Where had she seen a similar picture before? And often … why was it so familiar? Why, the library, of course! It was a painting of two children feeding a calf that Virginia had bought to hang in the tiny room where she shelved the books for small children. And Mae Martha must be the artist who painted it!
    The clock on the mantel struck two before Dimple sat again in the cane-bottom rocking chair next to Peggy’s bed. Had Virginia tried to call her earlier? If so, her friends at Phoebe Chadwick’s boardinghouse must be wondering what had happened to her. Would searchers be combing the hills for her as well as for Peggy? Maybe she should have gone for help as soon as she found the ribbon, but she would have had to take a chance on finding her way back down in the dark. Miss Dimple pulled one of Mae Martha’s soft knitted coverlets all the way to her chin. She knew she needed to sleep, but she didn’t think she would be able to catch a wink before morning.
    Dimple woke to the sound of whimpering and the gray light of dawn outside the windows. Peggy was fretful and feverish and refused to drink when Suzy held a cup to her lips.
    “Her temperature’s over a hundred and three,” Suzy told her, frowning. “Do you think you might be able to get her to take that other half of an aspirin? She seems to do better for you.”
    Dimple kissed the child on her forehead, and her lips were sensitive to the heat of her skin. Tears came to her eyes in spite of her resolve not to show how worried she was, but her heart ached for this little girl and she would give anything to make things right for her.
    After several attempts, the two of them managed to get down not only most of the dissolved aspirin, but a little water as well, and Suzy made a compress from a piece of torn flannel dipped in cold water, which she applied to Peggy’s forehead. “Keep changing this every few minutes,” she instructed Miss Dimple. “I’m going on down to Esau’s to use the telephone.”
    “Better take a flashlight,” Dimple suggested. “It’s not much help, but it’s better than nothing.”
    “Thank you, but I believe I might be better off with the lantern,” Suzy said. “I’ll take Max along for company.”
    But the dog had to be persuaded to leave Peggy. He had made a point, Dimple noticed, to check on her during the night, padding back and forth from his rug to keep watch over the sleeping child.
    “It’s all right, Max. Your little friend will be just fine, and you can come back and tell her good-bye,” Miss Dimple assured him.
    Bundled in coat and scarf, Suzy turned at the door. “What number should I call?” she asked.
    Miss Dimple shook her head and smiled. “All you have to do is call the operator. Florence McCrary will notify the Ashcrofts and everybody else in town before you can hang up the receiver.”

 
    C HAPTER F OUR
    Young Willie Elrod slapped globs of peanut butter on his pinecone, pausing to lick his fingers one at a time. “Peggy’s