CHAPTER VI VICKY'S WAYS
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"Ches-ter Cal-houn! Get up this minute! There's a reporter downstairs! A reporter!"
My sleepy eyes opened to find Winnie pounding my shoulder as it humped beneath the blanket.
"Hey? What?" I grunted, trying to collect my perceptions.
"A reporter!" If Winnie had said a Bengal tiger, she couldn't have looked more terrified.
"Great Scott! Win—I remember! Clear out, I'll be down in a minute."
I dressed in record time and went downstairs in three leaps.
In the library, I found Aunt Lucy, wearing an expression that she might have shown if the garbage man had asked her to a dance.
But Winnie was eagerly drinking in the story poured forth by the said reporter, who was quite evidently enjoying his audience.
"Oh, Chet, this is Mr. Bemis of The Meteor. He's
