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Emerson, Alice B., pseud.

"Betty Gordon in Washington"

Well, I suppose we might as well go back.
There's no window on the first floor."
"We could climb in there," suggested Betty, pointing to another
window, half-opened. "See, Bob, I can reach it easily."
She drew herself up before Bob could stop her, and, raising the
window as high as it would go, scrambled over the sill.
"It's fine--come on in," she laughed back at the others. "Cunning
office and no one in it. I suppose the owner has gone out to see us
rescued."
Bob lifted up Libbie, who was the shortest, and, one after the
other, the girls climbed in, Bob following last.
It was a finely furnished office and one Bob had never been in,
though he had a speaking acquaintance with many of the tenants in the
building. A pair of tiny scales and a little heap of yellow dust lay
on the highly polished mahogany desk.
The door into the corridor was partly open, and as they had to pass
the desk to reach the door, it was natural that the group should draw
nearer and glance curiously at the pair of scales.
"No nearer are you to come!" snapped a sharp voice with the
precision of a foreigner who is not sure enough of his English to
speak hurriedly. "I warn you not to put a finger out.


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