Читать книгу The Radio Girls at Forest Lodge; or, The Strange Hut in the Swamp онлайн

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The next moment a small cyclone flung itself upon Jessie and held on to her, still shrieking—much to the delight of the passersby.

“Help, call out the reserves!” chortled Amy, her voice choked with laughter, while Jessie tried vainly to disengage herself from the clutches of the small cyclone. “Henrietta Haney, do stop that shrieking. Oh—oh, you will be the death of me, yet!”

By this time Jessie had been able to push her small assailant away from her, and, by holding very tightly to a pair of waving arms, found it possible to look into a small pointed face upon which every freckle stood forth.

“Henrietta Haney—Hen,” admonished Jessie, with what severity the occasion permitted. “Do stop making so much noise, my dear. Why, everybody is looking at us.”

“Well,” said this surprising child, “I shouldn’t mind their lookin’, if I was you, Miss Jessie. Ma Foley always says no amount of lookin’ ever hurt no one.”

Jessie shot a helpless look at her chum, who was convulsed with mirth. Little Henrietta Haney, who had first introduced herself to the Radio Girls as a little waif from Dogtown—a down-at-heel district encroaching upon Roselawn—in search of her missing cousin, Bertha Blair, had since figured largely in their adventures. Owing to the interest of Mr. Norwood and Mr. Drew—both lawyers—the little girl had recently come into possession of part of Station Island. Henrietta, or “Hen,” as she was familiarly called, was inordinately proud of her inheritance and seldom overlooked an opportunity to make reference to “her island.”