d
Mrs. Rose said finally: "Then it _must_ have been stolen by some one
passing by, but I can't understand it. There are no tramps around here,
Long Sam is as honest as the day, and nobody else would be passing by
this window. I wish your father were here, Dotty."

"So do I, but he couldn't do anything. The cake's gone, and it must have
been taken by somebody. What do you say if we make another, Dolly?"

Dolly looked blank. "Make another!" she said slowly; "why it's three
o'clock now, and the fair begins at four. We couldn't do it, Dot, and
anyway we couldn't make a prize one. I wouldn't have the heart to try
again as hard as I did for that one. Would you?"

"Yes, I would! I'd just like to fly at it and make one as good as that
or better! I know who stole that cake, Dorinda Fayre! It was some girl
who had made a cake herself and who was afraid ours would take the
prize, and so she came and stole it!"

"Oh, Dorothy Rose! aren't you ashamed to think such a thing! And anyway,
how could any girl do that even if she was mean enough?"

"Of course she could!" and Dotty's eyes flashed; "everybody knew about
our cake, and they knew it would take the prize, and so of course they
wanted it out of the way! Now that's just what happened, because it's
the only thing that can have happened. As Mother says, there aren't any
tramps around here. We always set cakes or pies on that window shelf and
they've never been stolen. Come on, I say, let's make another; I hate to
have any girl get ahead of me like that!"

"Oh, Dotty, it just seems as if I couldn't make another. Why we were
three hours on that one this morning. It would be after six o'clock
before we could get another done. And I know it wouldn't be any good,
I'm too upset to make it properly. I'm all of a quiver. And besides we
haven't all the things in the house."

"No, we've no pineapple. But let's make some other kind of a cake,
chocolate, or something."

"Yes! I think I see a chocolate cake taking the prize! Why don't you
make ginger-bread and be done with it? That prize won't go to any common
kind of cake, like chocolate."

"It might if it was awful good chocolate. Oh, Dolly, our cake was so
beautiful!" And Dotty's overwrought nerves gave way and she burst into
violent sobbing.

"Well, crying won't do any good, Dot," and Dolly drew a long sigh; "I
don't blame you for crying, 'cause I know you can't help it. But I can't
seem to cry, I'm too--too flattened out."

Do