THAT evening at the opera was like a dream to the little Kingsbridge girls. Mrs. Cartwright visited them between the acts, then they were introduced to Olive Presby, who came to their box, accompanied by a young man named Jack Howard, an artist who had just returned from Paris. These two had been chums since childhood.
Bab thought Olive the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. She could not keep her eyes off of her, and Olive appeared to be equally attracted to Barbara, though there was little opportunity for conversation between them. Olive was fully five years older than Barbara with fair skin, black hair, and eyes of deep gray, veiled with long, black lashes, making an unusual and most attractive combination. Olive Presby was a striking looking girl. All through the second act Bab kept gazing across at Olive, and it was with a deep sigh of regret that Barbara finally turned her eyes away under the teasing of Ruth and Grace. The glorious evening came to a close all too soon for them.
Reaching home, the girls lost little time ingetting to their rooms, for the three travelers had had little sleep in the past two nights.
They fell asleep almost the instant their heads touched their pillows, but in spite of their late hours the four girls descended to the dining room the following morning bright-eyed and ready for whatever the day might bring forth.
Miss Sallie rustled in, dressed in her silk morning gown a few moments after the others had reached the dining room. The girls greeted her enthusiastically, each girl giving her a hearty hug and kiss, after which they seated themselves at the breakfast table, and a lively chattering ensued.
"What do you think of Cousin Olive?" asked Ruth.
"Oh, I just love her," cried Bab enthusiastically.
A cloud passed swiftly over the face of Ruth Stewart.
"I could love her almost to death. Is she engaged to Mr. Howard?"
"No indeed," said Miss Sallie with emphasis. "Olive is devoted to her parents, especially now that they are in such deep trouble. She is their comfort in their distress and she knows it."
"Young ladies," interrupted Mr. Stuart,"do you feel equal to beginning your sight-seeing to-day?"
"We do," chorused the girls.
"I have so planned my affairs as to have this day free for you. Mr. A. Bubble also is at your disposal. He has had a thorough going over at the hands of his man this morning, and I think you will find him in fine condition."
"Olive Presby is coming to see you this morning, you know," reminded Miss Sallie.
Ruth's face clouded again. Bab's eyes glowed, for she wished to see Olive even more than to explore Chicago.
"We might call her up on the telephone and have her come over so she may go with us," suggested Mr. Stuart.
The girls seconded this proposal enthusiastically, and this was done without delay, Olive promising to come over as soon after breakfast as possible.
"I propose," announced Mr. Stuart, "to take you over to the Board of Trade on La Salle Street to show you the famous Pit."
"Is it a very big hole?" questioned Mollie innocently, whereat a merry laugh rippled all the way around the table.
"The Pit," explained Mr. Stuart, smilingly, "is the place where men buy and sell grain-stuffs. It's the same as stock speculation."
Mollie thought stock speculation was trading in cattle.
"You ridiculous child," exclaimed Ruth. "I'll explain it to you so you will understand it. Now if you want to speculate you order your brokers, for instance, to 'buy a thousand shares of B. Sell five thousand shares of G and ten thousand shares of C.' That's all. Next morning you wake up to find yourself ten or fifteen thousand dollars richer——"
"Or poorer," added Mr. Stuart. "I must say, Ruth, that your explanation is very lucid. Take the girls down to my office, leaving here at half past ten o'clock. I shall have my morning mail disposed of by that time and my day's orders issued, then my time will be at your disposal. Sallie, are you going with the girls?"
"No, thank you. Not this morning. I have seen quite all of Chicago, I think. Besides, I have no love for your horrid Board of Trade. The automobile will be pretty well filled as it is."
"Oh, please come with us," urged Mollie.
Aunt Sallie shook her head smilingly, so it was arranged that the girls should go downtown by themselves, there to be met by Mr. Stuart. Olive bustled in shortly before ten o'clock. She was dressed in a brown tailor-made suit of broadcloth, with furs and hat ofmink. She came running up the stairs to Ruth's sitting room, bright and eager, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Here I am," she cried gayly. "I'm going to introduce myself all over again. I'm Olive, girls. I'm a sort of adopted cousin of the 'Automobile Girls.' So this is Bab," she sparkled, giving Barbara's hand a friendly squeeze. "This little yellow-haired girl is Mollie, and the bigger, brown-haired one is Grace. Now I think we are properly introduced. Now what can I do to add to the pleasure of the 'Automobile Girls' this fine morning?"
"I would suggest that you first sit down and compose yourself," replied Ruth with some severity. "How you do run on, Olive."
"Now, I call that downright mean," pouted Miss Presby. "Don't you, Bab?" Olive suddenly bent over Barbara, giving the little Kingsbridge girl an impulsive hug.
Ruth frowned. Bab looked embarrassed. She felt that Ruth resented Olive's affectionate demonstration. It caused the three Kingsbridge girls, however, to lose their awe of Miss Presby, whom they had before looked upon as a superior grown-up person.
"What are the plans for the day, dear?" questioned Olive, turning to Ruth.
"We are first to go to the office to pick upfather. He is to take us to the Pit. I don't know where we shall go from there."
About this time a maid came up to tell them that the car was at the door. The girls hurried down, laughing and chatting, Ruth's irritation apparently having been banished from her mind. It was a bright, sparkling day. The lake glistened and the wind from it again blew the color into the faces of the "Automobile Girls."
Mr. Stuart's office was in one of the tall office buildings on La Salle Street, not far from the Board of Trade. The girls were shot up to the seventeenth floor on the elevator with a speed that fairly took their breaths away. Mollie uttered a chorus of subdued "ohs" all the way up.
Even in the staid business office the girls found much to interest them. Mollie's attention was first attracted to an energetic little machine at one side of the room. This odd looking machine ticked like a clock, but resembled one in no other way, and from it at intervals spun a narrow, ribbon-like strip of paper which curled and coiled into an elongated waste-paper basket. Mollie stood over the basket regarding the perplexing letters and figures printed on the paper ribbon.
"Do—do you make ribbons on this?" shequestioned, laying a finger on the glass globe that covered the mechanism.
"Not exactly, my dear," answered Mr. Stuart. "But that little machine sometimes helps us to buy ribbons for our families. That is a ticker. It gives the market quotations. I hardly think you will be interested in it."
Mollie decided that she wasn't.
"If you are ready, girls, we will go over to the Board of Trade, where you will see the bulls and bears engaged in a pitched battle. It is to be a lively day on the floor of the Pit."
Mollie was frowning perplexedly.
"Are we really going to see a bull fight?" she whispered to Ruth. "Do the bulls and the bears really fight? I—I don't think I want to see them if they do."
"No, no, silly. Nothing of the sort. Oh, girls!" laughed Ruth merrily.
"Don't you dare tell them," admonished Mollie, "I'll never forgive you if you do."
"Never mind," called Ruth to the others, "I'll explain, dear. Of course you know nothing about these things. I wish I didn't. I wish father did not, either," she added with a touch of bitterness. "Bulls and bears are mere men. The bulls are those who try to force up the prices of wheat and other things, while the bears are the ones who seek to keep the prices down.I—I never have been able to make up my mind which of them is the most undesirable."
"I am sure Mr. Stuart isn't a bear," muttered Mollie.
"Indeed he is not," laughed Ruth, once more restored to good nature.
Instead of taking Mr. A. Bubble, the girls walked down from Mr. Stuart's office to the big, gloomy building that housed the Board of Trade. They were conducted to the gallery, where Mr. Stuart left them to go down to the brokers' rooms to consult with some of his friends.
It was a mad, wild scene that the little country girls gazed upon. It was like nothing they ever had seen before.
"Goodness me, theyarefighting!" cried Barbara in alarm.
Men were dashing about here and there. Hats were smashed, paper was being torn by nervous hands and hurled into the air, to fall like miniature snow flurries over the heads of the traders. Shouts and yells, hoarse calls were heard from all parts of the floor. One man threw up a hand with the fingers spread wide apart. Instantly a dozen men hurled themselves upon him. He staggered and fell. Willing hands jerked him to his feet. It was then that the "Automobile Girls" saw that the unfortunateman's coat had been torn from him. His collar flapped under his ears and a tiny red mark was observable on one cheek.
"Oh!" gasped the Kingsbridge girls.
"Wha-a-at are they fighting about?" gasped Mollie, her face pale with excitement, perhaps mingled with a little fear.
"They aren't fighting." Ruth had to place her lips close to the ears of her companion to make herself heard. "They are buying and selling. That is the way business is done on the floor of the Pit. See! There is father!"
The girls gazed wide-eyed. Mr. Stuart had projected himself into the maelstrom of excited traders. He, like the rest, was waving his arms and shouting. A group of excited men instantly surrounded him. He was for the moment the centre of attention, for Robert Stuart was one of the largest and most successful traders on the Chicago Board of Trade. The battle waged furiously about him, while the "Automobile Girls" gazed in fascinated awe upon the strange, exciting scene.
All at once a gong sounded. The tension seemed to snap. Men who had been fighting and shouting suddenly ceased their activities. The bodies of some grew limp, as it were. Some staggered. Others walked from the floor laughing and chatting. Out of the crowds strode aman—a young man. What first attracted the attention of the girls to him was a bandage about his head. He was walking straight toward them, though on the floor below. All at once he glanced up. Only Bab was looking down at him now. His gaze swept over the gallery. His eyes rested for a moment on the face of Barbara Thurston.
"The man from section thirteen!" exclaimed Bab under her breath. Then as she caught his eyes, she gazed in trembling fascination. The man's features were contorted. Barbara thought it was the most frightful face she ever had gazed upon. Anger, deadly passion and desperate purpose were written there so plainly that anyone could read. Looking her fairly in the face, the man sneered. Whether he recognized her or not, the girl did not know.
"Oh!" cried Bab, with a shudder.
"What is it, dear?" questioned Ruth anxiously.
"Oh, take me away from here. Please take me away," almost sobbed Barbara. "I—I can't stand it. It was awful."
"Come, girls," urged Ruth. "Bab is upset. I will confess that I have had enough of this place of nightmares." Rising, she led her friends down the stairs to the lower floor. Barbara was still trembling when they saw Mr.Stuart coming toward them. His face was set and stern. But the instant he caught sight of the "Automobile Girls" the sternness drifted slowly from his features, giving place to a pleased smile.
"Why, Barbara, how pale you are!" he exclaimed. "Whatisthe matter?"
"She is upset," answered Ruth briefly.
Mr. Stuart eyed her keenly.
"Was the excitement too much for you, my dear?" he asked.
"I—I think so," replied Bab. Then as the thought of that face and its dreadful expression recurred to her mind, she trembled more violently than before. Mr. Stuart linked his arm in hers and led her away, followed by the others of the party.
"It really is no place for young girls," said Mr. Stuart. "I should not have brought you here. Girls, we will take the car and go home at once. Barbara had better lie down for a while before luncheon. She is completely unnerved."
This Barbara knew to be true, but by great effort she conquered her fit of trembling, and before the Stuart's residence was reached she had in a great measure regained her self-control.
"OH, it is good to be back," declared Bab, as they entered the broad, cheerful hall of the Stuart mansion. "I don't feel as though I ever wanted to leave the house again."
"I like it here just as well as you do," answered Mollie. "But I shouldn't like to feel that I had to stay inside the house always."
Ruth had made good time on the return, now and then "shaving the paint from the sides of a street car," as Bab expressed it. Still, Ruth Stuart was not nearly as careless a driver as she appeared to be. She did take chances frequently, but the guiding hand at the wheel was sure and steady. She seldom used bad judgment. Her father had such confidence in her driving that he never interfered while riding with her. As for the three Kingsbridge girls, they were by this time so used to Ruth's driving that they declined to get nervous even when she had narrow escapes from collision.
"Girls, I am glad you have returned," greeted Miss Sallie, meeting them in the hallway as they entered. "You have callers."
"Pshaw!" muttered Ruth disgustedly. "Bab wants to lie down and rest. She is all upset. Can't we make our escape?"
"I am all right now," protested Barbara. "However, the company probably came to see Ruth instead of the rest of us."
"You are wrong," smiled Aunt Sallie.
"Who is it?" questioned Ruth.
"Cousin Richard, Cousin Jane and Tom Presby. You don't mind them."
"Oh, no indeed," laughed Ruth. "Come on, girls, let's go upstairs and get rid of our wraps, and remove some of this Chicago smoke from our faces. If I look as dirty as I feel I must be a sight."
"Father and mother here? You don't mean it?" exclaimed Olive in surprise. "I wonder why they have come in. Girls, you needn't worry about your appearance. Neither father nor mother will notice it. They are well used to the ways of healthy girls. As for Tom, well he doesn't figure at all. He wouldn't know whether our faces were clean or grimy. Come right in. Are they in the library, Aunt Sallie?"
"Yes, dear."
"Not one step will I go until I have made myself more beautiful," declared Ruth.
"I don't think that would be possible," said Bab in a tone calculated for Ruth's ears alone.
"Don't," begged Ruth. "I shall think you insincere if you don't stop talking that way. And my face is so besmudged that I am not fit to see anyone. You must come upstairs with me," she added, linking an arm in Barbara's. "Please tell them we shall be right down, Auntie."
Olive went directly to the library to see her parents. The other girls soon followed her. The library was darkened, lighted only by the snapping fire in the fireplace. Mr. Presby explained that he had come into town to see Mr. Stuart, who was at that moment welcoming him. Mr. Stuart excused himself, promising that he would return to his guests as soon as he had telephoned certain necessary orders to his office. Mr. Stuart had barely left the room when Bab and Ruth entered. Olive came forward quickly. She took Barbara's arm in hers, steering Bab toward Mrs. Presby.
"I want you to meet my mother. I know you will love her, for she's a dear. Mama, this is Barbara Thurston, of whom you have heard so much. I can assure you that she has not been overrated."
Bab moved blushingly forward. The floor was one of those slippery, hard-wood traps for the unwary. Barbara was not used to polished floors. She took a long step to keep up with Olive, who was moving rapidly. Bab's footcame in contact with a small rug, and together the rug and foot slid over the slippery floor.
Barbara Thurston's other foot followed the first. Realizing that a fall was inevitable, Barbara quickly released her arm from Miss Presby's.
"Oh!" exclaimed Bab, and sat down on the floor with such force that it jarred her from head to foot. There was a distinct vibration from several articles in the room as though they were moving out of sheer sympathy for the unfortunate girl.
Barbara struggled to her feet. Again she stumbled over the rug that had caused her to fall, and brought up heavily against a dark object near by. The object uttered a deep groan, as out of the shadows limped an elderly, dignified man. Pain and anger were struggling for the mastery of his facial expression. Barbara had landed fairly on Mr. Richard Presby's gouty foot.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," pleaded the girl. "I am so awkward and I did not see you at all. Please forgive me, if you can," she begged.
Mr. Presby, however, merely grunted out some unintelligible words. That he was not appeased by her contrition was plain to be seen. He had been in the act of rising to his feet tobow to the girls when Bab collided with him. Grace, Mollie and Ruth, who had followed Barbara into the room, suppressed their giggles with no little effort.
Barbara rushed toward the shadowy, far corner of the room, where she sought to hide her confusion. She flung herself into a great, easy chair. Something under her moved and wriggled.
"Oh, I say," exclaimed a voice from under her. "Get up. Don't put me out of business, too."
Bab sprang to her feet, her face burning with humiliation. She whirled about and peered into the depths of the chair. There sat a boy of twelve, grinning from ear to ear.
"I'm Tom," he informed her. "Lucky for me it wasn't I who stepped on the governor's game foot."
"Oh!" cried Barbara.
"I forgive you for sitting on me, but gracious, you're heavy."
Just at this moment Olive Presby, had hurried across the room. There was deep sympathy in her face as she extended a hand to the embarrassed Barbara.
"Don't mind it at all, dear. It is a thing that occurs to all of us frequently. Polished floors are such a nuisance," said Olive.
The other girls had been introduced to Mrs. Presby in the meantime. It was now Bab's turn, but instead of being first, as Olive had intended, she was last. Her face was still flushed and her eyelids drooped as she was presented.
Mrs. Presby pulled the girl's head down between two warm hands and gazed into her eyes, then kissed Barbara full on the lips.
"Never mind, my dear," she said. "You couldn't help it."
"If I could have a good cry, I know I should feel better," was Bab's plaintive rejoinder.
"Richard, come here, please, and shake hands with Miss Thurston," commanded Aunt Jane in a slightly peremptory tone. Mr. Presby did so, but with apparent reluctance. He had had one experience with the brown-haired girl from Kingsbridge.
"My dears, we want you to come to Treasureholme with us. We cannot spare Olive, so you will have to come to us," smiled Mrs. Presby.
"We want you to come out for Christmas," interjected Mr. Presby rather grudgingly, and as if he were reciting a line from memory.
"Before Christmas," nodded Mrs. Presby. "You must come out this week. Sallie, you will come with them. We shall expect Robert also, though I suppose he will be running away to the city all the time."
"I don't know whether Robert will wish to spare the girls or not. He likes to have them with him as much as possible," said Miss Sallie.
"Treasureholme? What a beautiful name!" breathed Barbara.
"And such a romantic name too," added Mollie soulfully. "I could love the place just on account of its name."
"We call the place 'Treasureholme' because it is or has been supposed to hold a lost treasure. But we have given up that idea. We gave it up a long, long time ago. You will come, won't you, girls? This, in all probability, will be our last Christmas in the old home. We wish to make it a bright and joyous occasion," said Mrs. Presby, with a wan smile. "We have planned to have a Christmas tree. Cousin Robert, you and Sallie can have the gifts delivered at our place just as well as at your home here."
"I shall have to leave it all to Robert," answered Miss Sallie. "Robert's business, as you know, is giving him no little concern these days. He may not care to leave it, and I am certain he would not consent to the girls going away at this time unless it were possible for him to spend at least part of the time with them."
"Then I shall talk with Robert myself," announced Mrs. Presby firmly. She did so thenand there. Rather, she went directly to Mr. Stuart's own particular sanctum, where Robert and Mr. Presby were then in consultation over business matters. Mr. Stuart did object to the girls going to Treasureholme to spend Christmas. But Mrs. Presby pleaded with him to let them come. She told him that before another Christmas came Treasureholme would be in other hands. She pleaded with Robert Stuart to let nothing stand in the way of helping them all to have a joyous holiday in the old home.
Mr. Stuart finally gave a reluctant consent. Mrs. Presby hurried back to the library to acquaint the girls with his decision. A merry chatter followed. Everyone talked at once, each making suggestions as to what should be worn and how the Christmas holiday should be spent in the country. As for the "Automobile Girls" from Kingsbridge, the idea of going to the country appealed to them strongly. It would seem almost like being home again. It must be confessed that Bab and Mollie now and then suffered the pangs of homesickness, even though they found so little time for their own thoughts.
It was finally decided that they were to leave for Treasureholme, a distance of more than thirty miles from the city, on the following Monday, three days hence. Mrs. Presby consented to Olive remaining with them until thattime, and accompanying the girls to the country in Ruth's motor car. That arrangement stood. The guests declined an invitation to remain to dinner and as soon as the two men had finished their business talk, Mr. and Mrs. Presby took their leave.
Two of the following three days were given up to a round of sight-seeing, paying and receiving calls on friends of the Stuarts, during which time the cylinders of Ruth's automobile scarcely had time to grow cold. Mr. A. Bubble was doing his full duty during these happy days.
Sunday was a day of rest. All were ready for the rest, too. The Kingsbridge girls looked a little more pale than usual, but their eyes were bright and sparkling when Monday morning arrived. It was a clear, frosty morning, with a suggestion of snow in the air. Miss Sallie had risen early, in order to have plenty of time to make all arrangements for their trip. She saw to it also that the girls' wardrobes were properly selected for their stay in the country, and suggested that they have the chauffeur drive them out.
"No, indeed," objected Ruth. "I am not wholly a fair-weather driver. I shall have my heavy gloves. Therefore, my hands will be warm and my feet will be so well occupied withworking the brake and control that they won't have time to get cold. Girls, you won't have anything to do, so wrap yourselves up. Auntie, I'm going to get out some of father's heavy coats. He won't need them."
"A jolly good idea," agreed Mollie. "Always provided that the master of the house doesn't object," she added, smiling at Mr. Stuart.
"My dear, if you had lived in this house as long as I have, you would understand that it would make little difference if the master of the house did object," interjected Mr. Stuart.
"Oh, dad," chided Ruth. "How can you say such a thing? You know I am your dutiful daughter."
"You suit me," answered Mr. Stuart, giving the protesting Ruth a quick embrace and a kiss on the forehead. "Yes, take anything you can find in the house. But leave the house. I may need it before I get out of the woods."
A shadow flitted across the face of Ruth Stuart. Then she smiled and kissed her father affectionately. A search for coats was made and a thousand and one details attended to. It was well into the afternoon before they were ready to start, Bab wrapped in Mr. Stuart's long fur coat, the other girls in cloth coats, with the exception of Ruth, who wore her own sealskin coat that reached down to her ankles. A furcap, silk lined and a pair of fur gloves that looked, Barbara said, like the feet of a bear, completed the outfit.
Mr. A. Bubble was grumbling when the girls emerged from the house. Their bags had been strapped on behind. Inside the automobile there were four foot warmers. Bab and Ruth spurned theirs. With many urgings on the part of Mr. Stuart and Aunt Sallie to be careful, Ruth threw in the clutch, advanced the spark and Mr. A. Bubble wheeled himself slowly away from the house, out into the avenue, then launched into a burst of speed that set at defiance all the regulations of the Windy City.
This was to be an eventful visit. It was to be one full of excitement and adventure, a visit that none of the girls ever would be likely to forget.
They rapidly rolled through the city and in a little while were out in the country, where the land flattened down into a rolling prairie, broken here and there by groups of slender trees and farm buildings.
The snow began to sweep past them in flurries shortly after they cleared the city limits. Ruth stopped the automobile and called upon the girls to assist her in putting on the storm curtains. When they had finished the car was entirely enclosed, a heavy curtain taking the place of thewind shield which the driver had turned down at its middle.
"Isn't this comfy?" chirped Mollie.
It did not prove so "comfy" after all, the way Ruth accelerated the speed, sending the car careening ahead at a high rate.
"Olive," said Bab, mustering courage to introduce a subject that was near to her heart.
"Yes, dear."
"Would you—would you think me too personal if I asked you to tell us the story of the buried treasure of Treasureholme?" she asked hesitatingly.
"Not at all."
"Oh, do tell us," urged Mollie and Grace in one voice.
"I've been just dying to hear about it ever since I first learned there was such a place as Treasureholme. Are there real ghosts there?" questioned Mollie.
"No; no ghosts. But there are memories. Listen, girls, and I will tell you all I know about it," said Olive, settling herself to relate the tale that was to prove of such fascinating interest to the "Automobile Girls."
"BURIED treasures are such ravishing mysteries," observed Mollie, while Olive was mentally arranging her facts. "I never thought I should actually be face to face with one."
"I am sure it must be a grand old place," volunteered Barbara.
"In reality, it is very big and bare," smiled Olive. "But I love every foot of the old place where I have lived all my life except when I have been away to school and where my ancestors have lived for oh, ever so many years."
Olive's eyes filled with tears. Barbara stole a groping hand under the robe and clasped one of Olive's. The latter pulled herself sharply together. She gave Bab a grateful look. The sympathy in that gentle hand clasp had meant more than words to her. Perhaps in that one brief moment the two girls came to understand each other better than in all the days that had passed since their first meeting at the opera.
"You know we fully expect to be obliged to give up the place at an early day. Father's business affairs have been going from bad toworse, until now there seems to be no hope of our keeping Treasureholme."
"Perhaps it may not be so bad as you imagine," suggested Bab softly. "'Never give up until you have to.' That is my motto."
"You wouldn't be the Barbara I have heard so much about if it weren't. But to come to the story. Treasureholme has been in our family, as I have already said, for many generations. My ancestor who founded the old place was one of the pioneers here. He was rich when he came here, but he foresaw a great future for what is now Chicago, so he brought his family and all his worldly goods here. He said confidently that a great city was certain to spring up here some day. You see how true was his prophecy. It was almost uncanny as I look at it now."
The girls nodded, but said nothing.
"Gracious! Did you see that?" called Ruth, with a trace of excitement in her tone.
"No, no. What is it?" cried the girls.
"Oh, nothing, only I ran down a cow," answered the fair driver, trying to speak carelessly.
"Ran down a cow!" exclaimed Bab, peering through the curtain windows.
"You needn't look for her. She is a mile or more back now. I didn't run over her. She appearedso suddenly out of the snow cloud that I didn't see her until the car was almost on top of her. I must have hit her only a glancing blow, for I barely felt the jar. I hope I didn't hurt the poor thing."
"So long as we keep on four wheels, please don't interrupt us," begged Miss Presby severely, whereat there was a series of giggles from the girls. "Where was I, girls?"
"Still at Chicago," replied Mollie. "You were speaking of your ancestor's prophecy."
"Oh, yes. At the time they were living in the garrison, at the first fort ever built on the Chicago River. You know the Indians were pretty thick hereabouts at that period."
"Indians!" murmured Grace apprehensively.
"Yes. After a time our ancestors built Treasureholme. That is why it is so old-fashioned now, though many changes necessarily have been made in the house since then, but the main part is practically as it was built by my pioneer ancestor. The boards that were used were laboriously sawed out and the timbers hewn by hand. It must have taken years to build the place. Outwardly it now has a more modern appearance, each succeeding ancestor adding and improving. But for a long time after it was built there were Indians and bad men hereabouts. This perhaps accounts for thesecret passages and numerous hiding places in the old house."
"Glorious," said Mollie, her eyes dancing.
"One day a message came that the Indians were no longer friendly. My ancestor was warned to hide his valuables and hasten to the fort with his family for the safety afforded there. It is believed that the treasure was buried at that time."
"Money?" asked Barbara.
"Gold and plate and jewels that had been brought from the old country when the family first came to the new world from England. But, alas, the garrison was wiped out by the Indians, leaving not a living person who knew the location of the treasure. Later on other members of the family came here from the east and took possession. The Presbys have been living on the estate ever since."
"Has no attempt been made to find the treasure?" questioned Barbara.
"So many attempts that I couldn't count them. Someone always is nosing about the place for clues. Father has spent a great deal of money in looking for it himself, but I think he has about given up hope of ever finding it. It is my idea that some of the other early members of the family found the hidden treasure, but said nothing about it."
Silence reigned in the automobile for some moments.
"Do you know," said Barbara, breaking the silence, "I think this is an excellent opportunity for the 'Automobile Girls' to distinguish themselves further?"
Olive shook her head smilingly.
"It would be effort wasted. Besides, we shall manage to keep your time so fully occupied that you will have no opportunity to search for buried treasure."
"What about those secret passages that you spoke of?" asked Grace.
"You shall see them and explore them to your hearts' content. Tom will show them to you. What Tom doesn't know about the old place, no one else does. And he knows a lot more about it than any of the rest of the family. I suspect that he has been making investigations on his own hook. He, like the boy he is, still has hopes of discovering the buried treasure."
"Is the gate open?" called Ruth over her shoulder.
"Yes. It hasn't been closed this fall."
"Then I'll drive in in style and make one of my flying stops," answered Ruth. "We'll make them think a train has left the C., B. & Q. track and is going to smash the house down. I think they will be surprised. I'll open up the exhaustjust as we get to the house, make a flying stop and the noise will wake up Olive's scalped ancestors."
"Be careful that you don't hit the house in reality," laughed Olive. "Remember it is old. It might tumble down. I don't care so much about the house, but I shouldn't like to see it tumble down on father and mother."
"Oh, it will not be quite as bad as that. We shall simply be making a big noise."
"I was only joking," replied Olive. "You don't think I thought for a minute you would run into the house, do you?"
"That is exactly what I am going to do."
"Ruth Stuart!" exclaimed Bab sternly.
"After I have stopped the car," finished Ruth, with a merry laugh. "But look here, young ladies, if you keep on talking to me and making me laugh, I am likely to pile you all in the ditch right here."
"Can you see the road?"
"Yes. Between snow flurries. I can't miss the road. The turn into the grounds is enclosed in stone fences, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"I'll pick it up all right. You girls look out when I give the word. I am going to make the turn wide and at full speed. Hold fast!" she cried, giving the steering wheel a sharp turn.For one giddy moment Mr. A. Bubble appeared to be uncertain whether to turn turtle or go on the way he was headed. He decided upon the latter course, and settling down on all four wheels shot straight ahead. The light was uncertain, but Ruth's eyes were on the road, all her attention centred on her work. Suddenly she uttered a sharp little cry. The emergency brake went on with a shock. Then came a mighty crash. To the girls in the car in their brief instant of consciousness, it seemed as if the universe were going to pieces.
INSTEAD of running into the Presby home, as she had laughingly threatened to do, Ruth Stuart had dashed at almost full speed into the closed heavy iron gates at the entrance to the Treasureholme grounds. These gates were supposed to be open. As Olive had said, they had not been closed in some months. Why should they be closed now when the "Automobile Girls" car was looked for to arrive at any moment?
None of the girls was thinking of this at the moment. None was in condition to think at all. Ruth had discovered the obstruction in time to throw on the emergency brake, but not quickly enough to stop the headway of the automobile.
The car crashed against the gates with great force. The heavy iron bars of the gates buckled under the impact, then with a great creaking and rattling the hinges gave way, the old brick columns to which the hinges had been attached crumbled and fell in a cloud of dust and mortar. Accompanying the crash was the sound of breaking glass. But not a cry had been raised from the interior of the car, save Ruth's warning.
That cry of warning had set Barbara instantly on the defensive. She threw both arms about Mollie and Olive. Grace was on the front seat with Ruth. Bab braced her feet with a mighty effort. Then the crash came.
It seemed to Barbara Thurston as though her arms were being torn from their sockets. Then the three girls on the rear seat were jerked to their feet. They toppled over the back of the seat ahead of them, plunging head first into the forward part of the car, where the operating mechanism was located.
Ruth and Grace had been hurled against the storm curtain, securely fastened down between themselves and the glass wind shield. Fortunately for them, the curtain held for a few seconds until the shower of glass from the shield had fallen into the roadway, then the curtain gave way and the two girls tumbled out in the wake of the glass.
The automobile, after the first impact, had recoiled several feet. It essayed to plunge forward again, but the emergency brake held it motionless while the motors began to race, making a noise that was heard in the house, which stood at some distance from the fallen gates.
The "Automobile Girls" lay where they had fallen, Ruth and Grace in the roadway, Bab, Mollie and Olive in the forward end of the car.
"There they come," cried Mrs. Presby. "Why, what a frightful noise," she exclaimed, starting for the door, followed by Mr. Presby, with a painful limp.
Tommy's face turned white when he heard the crash. With a bound he passed his father and mother, tore down the steps and off down the drive.
"Something has happened, Richard," cried Mrs. Presby.
"Something will happen to my gout, too, if I have to remain out in this chill atmosphere," declared Mr. Presby irritably.
"Hurry, hurry!" wailed the distant voice of Tommy.
"Oh, what is it?" cried Mrs. Presby, picking up her skirts and running down the drive.
"They're killed! They're killed!" howled Tommy. "They've smashed into the gates. Everything's done. Finished!"
"Run, Richard! Quick! Get help! An accident has occurred," begged Olive's mother.
The woman was almost beside herself with terror. Tommy's face was ghastly.
"Here's Ruth," he said, almost brusquely, lifting the girl by main strength and staggering toward the house. He bore the burden only a few feet, however, then hastily deposited it on the ground. Ruth was senseless.
A neighbor had witnessed the accident and with rare forethought telephoned for a doctor. By this time a general alarm had been sounded. The old fire bell on Treasureholme had been rung by Mr. Presby as the quickest method of summoning assistance. Neighbors came on the run. They were appalled when they first looked upon the wreck of the old gates. The wreck at first sight appeared to be much worse than it really was. The automobile motors were still racing, the exhaust emitting frequent explosions that sounded like the discharge of a Gatling gun. It was almost as though Mr. A. Bubble were summoning assistance on his own responsibility.
No time was lost, however, in attending to the five girls. Ruth and Grace being nearest at hand, were quickly lifted by strong arms and borne to the house. The three girls still in the automobile were tenderly lifted out and also carried in. Each girl was placed in the room that had been set aside for her. The doctor was on hand almost by the time the girls had been placed on their beds. He made a hasty diagnosis of each case, announced that no bones had been broken and, assisted by Mrs. Presby, administered restoratives to the victims of the accident, who soon recovered consciousness.
No one had thought to send word to Mr. Stuart. The household was too much upset tothink of anything save the accident that had occurred.
Grace and Ruth really had the front storm curtain to thank for saving their lives. Had they been hurled through the heavy glass wind shield they undoubtedly would have been killed instantly. Mollie and Olive no doubt were saved by Barbara Thurston's presence of mind. But Barbara by devoting her whole effort to saving her companions had been badly bruised and shaken.
Someone in the meantime had shut off the motors and pushed the car out of the way. The wreckage of the gates was also cleared away at the direction of Mr. Presby, so that no one else should collide with it.
The doctor remained at Treasureholme until nine o'clock in the evening. Before taking his departure, however, he gave strict orders that none of his patients were to be allowed to leave their beds until he called the next morning, and pronounced them able to rise and dress.
Mrs. Presby broke down and cried after she learned that the girls were not seriously injured. Tom went out in the woodshed and wailed so loudly that he was heard in the rooms upstairs. Mr. Presby hobbled about irritably. He did not care to have those in the house know how much affected he really was.
Early the next morning he sent for one of his men. The old gentleman was now in a fine temper. Owing to the excitement caused by the accident, and a particularly painful attack of the gout, he had passed a sleepless night and was therefore in a most unamiable frame of mind.
"Who closed those gates?" roared Mr. Presby the instant the man appeared in the doorway of the dining room, where the master was hobbling back and forth.
"I—I don't know, sir."
"You closed them!" thundered Richard Presby.
"I did not. They were open when I last saw them."
"When was that?"
"About an hour before the accident occurred, I think, sir."
"If you didn't close them, who did? Answer me that."
Of course the man could not answer that question. He made no answer at all, thinking thereby not to further irritate his employer.
"I suppose the gates were closed by some of those rascally treasure hunters that are continually tearing over my premises, digging holes for the unwary to fall into and making general nuisances of themselves in every other way.Drive them off. Pepper them with shot if you can't get rid of them in any other way. I may not be here for long, but while I am here, I'm the master of Treasureholme. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," answered the man humbly, his face reflecting no expression at all.
Mr. Presby thumped back and forth with his cane for nearly an hour after that, despite the fact that every step he took sent excruciating pains through his gouty foot. Finally retiring to the library, he went to sleep in his Morris chair, with the troublesome foot propped up on a stool.
Early in the forenoon Mrs. Presby communicated with Miss Sallie and Mr. Stuart, telling them as much of the details of the accident as was known. Ten minutes later Robert Stuart and Miss Sallie were on their way to Treasureholme as fast as an automobile could carry them. The girls were asleep when they arrived. The doctor, who had arrived in the meantime, would not permit his patients to be disturbed. He assured Mr. Stuart, however, that the girls had providentially escaped with a few slight scratches and bruises and that they would all be up before the end of the day.
But the mystery of the closed gates was disturbing the entire household. It was inexplicable.Mr. Presby declared that it was the work either of his enemies or of some treasure-seeker who thought he was doing the owner a service by closing his gates for him.
Late that afternoon the five girls appeared in the dining room little the worse for their shaking up, although Barbara was far more lame and sore than she would admit. A general season of rejoicing ensued, and several neighbors dropped in to congratulate the girls on their miraculous escape from serious injury.
On seeing her father, Ruth's first question was, "What happened to A. Bubble?"
Mr. Stuart did not know. He promised to find out, which he did an hour or so later. Mr. A. Bubble, he told her, would be sent to a shop for repairs the next day, as he intended going back to Chicago that night and would attend to it. The radiator had been badly bent, the forward axle had buckled, guards were smashed, the hood was damaged, in short, Mr. Bubble presented a most disreputable appearance.
Mr. Stuart told Ruth she was in a certain degree responsible for the accident, still she had no thought that the gates would be closed.
"I'll know enough after this to keep my car under control. I won't try to knock over any more houses and things," Ruth retorted.
By the afternoon of their second day atTreasureholme the "Automobile Girls" had practically gotten over the effects of their accident and were cosily established in Olive's room consuming hot chocolate and cakes while Olive, at their urgent request, again recounted the story of the buried treasure. Now that they were face to face with the great mystery, they were alive with curiosity. They were burning to see with their own eyes the place that held so much of mystery and perhaps a fortune that was probably being trodden over by human feet every hour of the day.