I’ve always loved it myself. I have a corner for my trash, and the sleeping quarters aren’t bad. You see this place was built with government money, and that’s always—well, real money,” he finished, significantly.

“But Jerry,” again came the opposition from Mrs. Manton, “you know we have scarcely had time to look that attic over since we came here. It seems perfectly absurd to let Nora go up there,” she paused. “I know it’s clean, for Vita takes a pride in fixing attics, but why——”

“Now Ted,” the voice was as soft as a boy’s, “why not let our little girl have her way?”

“I really am not objecting,” said the wife with a smile, “I’m just qualifying.”

“But who dares qualify day dreams?” asked the man, with a comical twist in his voice.

Nora stood on the threshold, uncertainly. “I guess maybe,” she pondered, “we think a lot about dreams when we haven’t real things to think about, like playthings, for real,” she finished.

“That’s exactly it, dear,” said Mrs. Manton, “and day dreams are not always healthy, either.”

“All the same,” insisted Jerry, “I’m strong for that attic. It smells just like the woods after my men have made a good, clean cutting. Come along, girlie, and let me show it to you.”

CHAPTER II—THE ATTIC

“How’s this?” asked the man.

“Oh, wonderful! Those beams, they slant just like the story books say,” declared Nora, ecstatically.

“Good enough to give you the right sort of nightmare, eh? Well, that’s nice. Ted is always after the cobwebs, but I don’t let her spoil them if I’m around. You see, cobwebs have a lot to do in my business.”

“Cobwebs?” Nora poked her little head in between two chummy beams. “What do cobwebs do in surveying?”

“They make a cross line on my object glass. I’ll show you when I get around to it,” replied Jerry. “Now see here, here’s the secret chest,” he was opening a big wooden box, “and by a miracle,” he continued, “it does hold clothes, duds, et-cet-tee-ra.”

“The people who had this place gave a big party, I believe,” explained Mrs. Ted, “and they left a lot of their costumes here. We have never had any chance to make use of them,” she finished, slapping her hands on the work apron that partly covered her own mannish costume. Apparently she disdained the frivolous things.

“But just look!” Nora was almost in the big cedar chest; in fact, nothing more than a bump of white, ending in two small brown spots that waggled like sandaled feet, was visible. Presently the curly head emerged in a cloud of brilliant, spangly stuff, very evidently the costumes. “Aren’t these just wonderful!”

“Oh yes,” agreed Jerry, “they’re nice and shiny. But just look at this spook cabinet. Do you know what a spook cabinet is, Nora?”

“No, what?” She dropped the costumes back into the big chest instantly.

“They’re just a box of tricks. But this is the box empty. See here,” Jerry opened, with some difficulty, the long narrow closet that was built in a corner of the attic room. “I have always wondered why this had a ventilator at the top——” he began.

“Jerry!” called his wife rather sharply. “Please don’t do all the exploring in one day. Nora must change her things and come down stairs. She may want something to eat after her journey.” Mrs. Ted’s tone of voice was plainly against that cabinet.

“All right, Ted, I’ll subside,” replied the jolly man. “The fact is——” he whispered to Nora, “our Ted hates ghosts; and every time I talk about this here upright coffin, she objects,” and he gave one of his boyish twisted yelps, as if he wanted to yell but didn’t dare so gurgled instead, and it was very plain he said this out of pure mischief; nevertheless, it did cause the little girl to clench her small fists and start suddenly.

“Come right down stairs,” insisted the hostess imperatively. “I’m very sure, Nora dear, you will find something more interesting in Vita’s cake box than you could dig out of that dusty hole.”

“Vita! What a queer name!” exclaimed Nora, following Mrs. Manton out from the interesting attic.

“Her whole name is more than that. It’s Vittoria, but since she does our cooking and is both vital and vitaminous, we cut it down to an easy word implying both,” explained Ted. “You see, Nora, we are keen on short cuts.”

The little girl was thinking something like that. In fact, she was so fascinated with the realities of her visit she had almost lost the last shred of faith in her picturesque dreams. “If I had ever named a cook,” she was deciding, “I should surely have given her Susan or Betsy or maybe Jennie. But Vita means more and makes you think of good victuals.”

The open stairs were built winding from the big field stone hearth in the first room, clear up to the attic chamber, and, as they descended, Nora looked about the quaint, rustic place in rapturous admiration. Indeed, no dream of her great life series had ever included this. Gone with the Jim-Aunt Elizabeth idea was going the rag-rug four-poster plan, that had seemed almost indelibly outlined on her whimsical picture plate. She sighed a little, as she felt she should, on the “grave of her dreams;” but there was Jerry calling from the open door:

“Here you are, Nora! Come and meet Cap.”

“Cap! A boy!” she asked excitedly.

“Not the regular kind, but he’s some boy just the same.” Jerry was clapping his hands like a boy himself, just as a big shaggy dog bounded down the path and up the few steps to the square porch.

“Oh, what a beauty! I have always loved a big dog!” exclaimed Nora. “What’s his name?”

“Captain,” replied the proud master. “Here Cap, come shake hands with Nora.”

The dog cocked one ear up inquisitively, looked over the small girl with majestic indifference, walked around her twice and finally flung his bushy tail out with a swish that fanned Nora’s cheek as she bent over to make friends.

“Isn’t he lovely! Just like the picture in my first story book; the big dog that dragged the lost man out of the snow drifts,” said Nora, almost breathless with delight.

“He is exactly that sort,” explained Jerry. “He came from the other side and was a Captain in the big war.”

“Oh,” sighed Nora wistfully. “He must know an awful lot.”

“He surely does, eh, old boy?” and the big shaggy head was patted affectionately.

Meanwhile Vita, the Italian woman who held the office of housekeeper, was depositing a mess of freshly-picked dandelions in a pan on the kitchen table. She smiled pleasantly at the little stranger, and at a single glance Nora knew she and Vita were sure to be friends.

“Now, you know us all,” announced the hostess. “Vita and Captain complete the circle.”

“Not counting the crow, and the rabbits and the cat and the——”

“The animal kingdom is not included,” Ted interrupted her husband. “When we get to checking up the animals please, after Captain count in Cyclone.”

“Cyclone! A horse?” asked Nora.

“Yes, the horse,” answered Jerry. “He can climb trees, crawl through gullies and swim the river like a bear, according to Ted.”

“Well, hardly all of that,” qualified the smiling owner of the saddle horse Cyclone. “But he is a wonderful horse, Nora. I am sure you will want to ride him.”

“Oh, I’d be dreadfully afraid,” demurred the girl. “But perhaps——”

“You aren’t going to be afraid of anything around here, Bobbie,” Jerry assured the small girl, who looked smaller by contrast to the big man and the robust, athletic young woman; both perfect models of