A few moments later Quincy was in his
own room and after locking his door sat down to inspect his plunder.
Alice did not rest, however; something was on her mind. She found her
way to the bureau and took up the pictures.
"Only four," she said to herself, after counting them. "Let me see," she
continued, "the photographer gave me thirteen,--a baker's dozen he
called it. Now to whom have I given them? 'Zekiel, one; Uncle Ike, two;
Mrs. Putnam, three; Stella Dwight, four; Bessie White, five; Emma
Farnum, six; Mr. Ringgold, seven; Mr. Fisher, eight. That would leave
five and I have only four. Now to whom did I give that other picture?"
And the guilty thief sat on the other side of the partition and exulted
in his crime. There came a loud rap at his door, and Quincy started up
so suddenly that he dropped the picture and it fell to the floor. He
caught it up quickly and placed it in his pocket. As he unlocked the
door and opened it he heard loud rapping on the door of Miss
Pettengill's room.
Looking into the entry he saw 'Zekiel, who cried out, "Say, you folks,
have you forgotten that you have been invited out to tea this evening,
and that we are going to give a surprise party to Mr.
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