"I'VE got it!" he cried. "I've found the—but it can't be a very big treasure done up in so small a package," he added in a disappointed tone.
That which had attracted his attention was a metal box about six inches in length which had been set into the chimney so skilfully that a person passing would be unlikely to observe it. The box fitted the niche so nicely that Stevens was obliged to use his knife to pry it out. The box was locked. He found no key and was about to attempt to pry open the cover with his knife when he paused.
"No. I won't do it. That wouldn't be fair. Miss Thurston is the real discoverer. She shall open the box, or I will open it in her presence unless Mr. Presby wishes to do so himself." Saying which, Bob Stevens pocketed his curiosity as well as the little metal box. The rope now being at hand, he slipped the loop about his waist, reached up and grasped the lower rung of the ladder, drawing himself up easily until the lower rung was beneath his feet. From that point on he climbed rapidly to the platform.From there he was obliged to use the rope in place of the missing section of the ladder. A few seconds later he was standing in the garret.
"How is Miss Mollie?" were his first words.
"Just coming to," answered one of the hands. "Miss Ruth was just up here to see if you had gotten up yet. She wishes to see you."
"Hold up the lantern. I want to look at this wall a moment." Bob had found the maul lying on the floor in the gable. He returned it to the garret. He now recalled the crash that had followed his final chopping. Since then the young man had reasoned out what he thought was the mechanism that had caused all the trouble.
Stevens pushed gently on the panel against which he had originally struck so hard a blow. To the amazement of the onlookers, the panel fell into the gable with a mighty crash.
"I thought so," he nodded. The others had leaped to the far side of the room. Mr. Presby came hobbling up, fearing that still another disaster had fallen upon the house.
"Please look here, Mr. Presby," called Bob. "Here is the secret. See that narrow panel? It is a little wider than a man's body. It is hinged at the bottom. Attached to it were ropes running over pulleys in wooden tunnels. At the ends of these ropes are heavy weights.So nicely balanced were the weights that the pressure of a few pounds from this side would throw the panel inward. Any person leaning against it on this side would be dumped into the other room so quickly that unless he understood the mechanism, he would not know what had occurred."
"Wonderful," breathed the owner.
"It was evidently intended to afford a quick get-away in case the occupants of the house found it necessary to leave hurriedly. You will find the remnants of an old mattress in the gable there. I presume that was originally so placed that the person going through would slide from the smooth panel to the mattress without the least danger of injury. The instant his body left the panel the weights would pull the panel into place with a great bang. When the weights struck their foundation—the floor—another crash would be heard. Were I an Indian, I think I would run if I heard all that crashing and smashing. However, I have cut the ropes. You will have no recurrence of to-day's accident. The trap was open and both the young women fell into it while groping about in the dark in there. Is Miss Mollie seriously hurt?"
"One wrist is sprained and she is somewhat bruised. I do not believe it will prove to beanything serious," answered Mr. Presby. "Bob, I thank you," he added, giving the young man's hand a hearty grip.
"May I go down there now?" piped Tommy.
"You may not, sir," returned his father sternly. "You will keep away from that place entirely. I shall have the opening nailed up to-morrow. By the way, Robert, what did you find at the bottom?" questioned the master eagerly.
"A caved-in passage. I also found this. I intended to give it to you in the presence of Miss Thurston. However, it belongs to you."
Mr. Presby turned the metal box over in his hand reflectively.
"Open it, Robert. I decline to become excited."
"May I call Miss Barbara?"
"Certainly."
Tommy fairly flew downstairs for Bab, who returned with him on the run. Stevens showed her the box. Her eyes glowed.
"How is Miss Mollie?" asked the young man.
"I don't think there is very much the matter with her except the shock and the fright. She must have been unconscious down there for quite a time. Please open the box. I am dying of curiosity."
He broke open the box with the stove pokerwith which he had sounded the walls. All necks were craned to see what was in the box. To their wonderment, not unmixed with disappointment, Bob Stevens drew out a tarnished gold watch, on the back of which had been cut the letters "T. W. P." It was of English make and very old.
Mr. Presby regarded it solemnly.
"That is my ancestor's watch. It can mean but one thing, finding it as we have. He left such of his worldly possessions as he could—this watch. And to think we have dug up half of the estate for a treasure that did not exist! It was his silent message to us that this was all he had to leave in case he did not return." Mr. Presby's voice held a note of keen disappointment. Even up to now he had not fully lost hope that by some fortunate circumstance the treasure might yet be found.
"He may have returned and taken the rest of it," reflected Bob. "But if that were so, why should he have gone to all the pains of leading us to believe there was more?"
"How so?"
"This find means more than appears on the surface, sir."
"May I look at it?" asked Barbara.
A Slip Of Paper Fluttered To the Floor.A Slip Of Paper Fluttered To the Floor.
Mr. Presby handed the watch to her. She opened the case and gazed long at the face ofthe timepiece. She closed the case with a snap, then turned to the back, first studying the initials, next trying to open the back case. Bob Stevens assisted her with his pocket knife. The case came open suddenly. A slip of paper fluttered to the floor at Bab's feet.
"Oh!" she cried, snatching it up. She started to unfold the paper, then flushing, handed it to Mr. Presby. He shook his head.
"Look at it, my dear. There need be no secrets here."
Barbara did so, her hands trembling with excitement. A little furrow of perplexity appeared between the eyebrows. What she saw on the paper was a crude drawing of a toadstool with a slight point rising from the centre of the toadstool. In the background was what appeared to be a forest, but so awkwardly drawn that it was not possible to say positively that a forest was what the artist had intended. Below the picture of the toadstool was some writing. Stevens held the lantern closer, at her suggestion. "'The span of a minute is sixty seconds,'" read Barbara Thurston. "Now, what in the world does that mean?"
"I think it was your little golden-haired sister who expressed the opinion that my ancestor was not in his right mind," said Mr. Presby. "I am inclined to that belief myself. I washmy hands of the whole affair! Come, let us go below. This air here suffocates me."
Bob Stevens took the paper and, holding the lantern in the crook of his left arm, studied the bit of paper on his way downstairs, but made nothing out of it.
"I am not certain that it means anything at all, Miss Thurston," he said. "Perhaps the girls may discover some meaning. As for myself, I give it up."
"Thank you," answered Barbara. "I will show it to them. I know it must mean something, unless—unless the original Mr. Presby were crazy in fact."
"I am beginning to think we are all crazy," laughed Stevens.
After having again inquired for Mollie, and shaken hands with Barbara and Ruth, Bob went home. Barbara had stuffed the slip of paper into the pocket of her blouse on her way to Mollie's room. Mollie now lay wide awake. Her face was pale. There was a livid mark on her forehead, where she had come violently in contact with the chimney side on her tumble into the hole in the gable floor.
"Oh, Mollie, dear," soothed Bab, throwing her arms about her sister. "It had to be you who got the worst of the bump. Were you leaning against the wall, too?"
Mollie nodded weakly.
"What happened?" she asked.
Barbara explained as well as she could from the brief description of the panel mechanism that Mr. Stevens had given to her, to which Mollie listened wide-eyed.
"You dear 'Automobile Girls,'" cried Ruth. "Will you never stop picking up horseshoe nails with all four tires?"
"But we manage to wriggle our way through the broken glass, don't we, Molliekins?"
Mollie nodded and smiled. The wind was still howling without. In the pause of conversation the girls listened. Suddenly Ruth sprang up.
"I have forgotten two things," she exclaimed. "I must go out and put the storm curtains on Mr. A. Bubble and telephone father that Bubble must go to the shop."
"You didn't have another accident?" inquired Barbara anxiously.
"No. I blew up the two rear tires and came in on the rims. Oh, girls, I wish you might have been along. No, I don't, either. I'm afraid the car wouldn't have stood up under that additional weight. It was great!"
"Did—did you go some?" questioned Mollie.
"Did we? Ask Tom! I'll wager that young man's head is whirling still. I never thoughtwe should make it, but I was bound not to set back the spark a single notch until I either turned turtle in the ditch or got Mr. Stevens here to help find you, Bab. We made it, didn't we, Tommy boy?" Tom had just entered the room to see what was going on.
"You bet we did," answered Tom.
"Would you like to ride so fast as that another time?" questioned Ruth merrily.
"Well, maybe in a railroad train," answered Tommy.
"I'll take you out again when the car is repaired," said Ruth.
"Not when I'm awake you won't."
"You say you came home on the rims?" wondered Barbara. "I should have thought it would have crushed them. Yours is a heavy car, Ruth."
"It would have crushed them, only the rims didn't touch the ground till we got in the drive here," observed Thomas wisely, whereat the girls laughed merrily.
Ruth started to go down and put on her storm curtains. Bab ran after her to assist.
"Oh!" cried Barbara, as an icy blast smote her in the face the moment she stepped out into the open.
"You had better run back and put something over your head," advised Ruth.
For answer, Barbara pulled out her handkerchief, binding this over her head. The two girls, after no little effort, succeeded in putting the curtains up, though the wind made their task doubly difficult. Finishing, they ran into the house with benumbed fingers and cheeks aflame. They rushed to the nearest fireplace, to which they pressed closely until the odor of scorching cloth warned them to beware. Olive and Grace had come downstairs, for dinner was on the table. A tray had been taken up to Mollie, but she did not care to eat, and had soon after fallen into a restful doze.
"You haven't told us what you found in that great, deep hole," urged Olive, after they had been seated for some little time.
"Oh, I forgot," answered Barbara. "Everything has been moving so rapidly that I haven't had time even to think. I found—I mean Mr. Stevens found something. But I am afraid it doesn't help us much."
"Bob found something?" cried Olive. "Oh, tell us about it."
"Yes, he found a metal box in the chimney. In it there was a watch that belonged to your scalped ancestor—I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have said that. Your father has the watch. Well, inside the back case was a tiny slip of paper with the funniest picture you eversaw. There was some writing beneath the picture. I'll show it to you. I believe it means something, but I can't understand it at all."
"All rubbish," observed Mr. Presby. The master of the house already had shown the watch to Mrs. Presby, and had explained the manner of its finding by young Stevens.
Bab was searching through her pocket for the slip of paper. She had her handkerchief in her hand, together with some other articles that the pocket had held. Going clear to the bottom, she groped with eager fingers. Her face grew a shade paler.
"You haven't lost it?" begged Ruth.
"Oh, I am afraid I have!" gasped Barbara, turning her pocket wrong side out. "I—I must have dropped it in the garret. May I be excused while I go up to look for it?"
Receiving permission, the girl ran hurriedly up the garret stairs, first having snatched up one of the lanterns. She searched the garret floor, paying especial attention to the spot where they had been standing when discussing the find. She found no trace of the missing slip. Next Barbara examined every inch of the stairs, then entered Mollie's room on tip-toe, but with no better success. Every nook and corner where she could remember to have been on both floors was searched in vain.
"I think I can tell you where you lost it," volunteered Ruth Stuart "You took out your handkerchief to put over your head when we were outside covering the car. You must have pulled the paper out with the handkerchief."
"Then I must go outside and look for it," wailed Bab. "I simply mustn't lose that paper. It may mean everything to you all. Oh, I must find it."
"Silly! You won't find the paper if it has been dropped out of doors. On a night like this it has probably blown far away," interposed Olive. "Don't worry. It isn't worth it. Hunting for the Treasureholme treasure brings nothing but tears. Forget it all and be your own bright little self."
Barbara Thurston struggled with her emotions for a few heart-breaking seconds, then burst into tears.
THERE had been an air of new mystery about Treasureholme for the last three or four days. Packages large and small, all addressed to Mrs. Presby had been delivered from the city. Mysterious conferences were being held between Mrs. Presby and this and that girl. Each of the "Automobile Girls" appeared to be bursting with the burden of the secret she was carrying about with her.
The explanation of all this mystery was that it then lacked but two days to Christmas. Bab had in a measure recovered from her disappointment and chagrin at losing the slip of paper found in the chimney, and strange to say she had wholly forgotten the words that were written on the little slip. All the information that Robert Stevens could give her was that it was something about a "minute." The excitement under which all hands were laboring at the time of the find, perhaps might be blamed for their short memories. However, there was no help for the disaster now. The coming holiday served to take their minds from the subject of the buried treasure, though now andagain Tom brought in reports of having seen strange men in the grounds out near the woods. One evening the girls had been frightened almost to the verge of hysterics by discovering a man peering through the window of Olive's sitting room upstairs, while the girls were chatting after the others below stairs had gone to bed. A ladder found on the outside explained how the man had gotten to the window. That his spying had something to do with the mad hunt for the treasure, they had no doubt. In this instance their screams, aided perhaps by the bottle of smelling salts that Olive had instantly hurled through the window upon catching sight of him, had driven him away.
Christmas eve at last was at hand. The air without was crisp and clear, within all was cheer from the blazing fireplaces, with decorations of holly festooned with ribbons in all the downstairs rooms. The dining room had been cleared as soon as possible after dinner, for it was there that a Christmas tree was to be set up, there that the presents were to be distributed to the "Automobile Girls" and various members of the family. Excitement ran high. Bob Stevens had been invited to join in the festivities, which included a molasses candy pull and games appropriate to the occasion.
Seven o'clock had just boomed out on thegrandfather's clock in the hall when there came a ring at the door. The girls, with ears alert, heard a familiar voice greeting Mr. and Mrs. Presby. Down the stairs rushed the girls, with Ruth in the lead, crying at the top of her voice:
"It's my daddy! Oh, it's my dear daddy!" Ruth flung herself into her father's arms. She had not seem him in more than two weeks. The rest of the girls rushed up to Mr. Stuart, each giving him an affectionate hug, for to them he seemed almost as much a father as he did to Ruth.
Barbara's heart sank as she stepped back to take a good look at Mr. Stuart. His face was positively haggard. Ruth had observed this in the first glance and two great tears dropped from her eyes to Mr. Stuart's shoulder as she clung there.
"Dear daddy. Don't take it so hard. You have me," whispered Ruth. This brought a momentary relaxation to the tense muscles of the speculator's face.
Barbara was shocked at his appearance. He seemed to have added years to his age since last she saw him. Mr. Stuart observed her inquiring gaze fixed upon his face. He smiled reassuringly, well understanding that she had noted the change in him. Then, to divert Bab's thoughts, he pinched Mollie's dimpled chin.
"How is my little Molliekins since her adventure in the lower regions of Treasureholme?" he questioned.
"My stock went down that day. It hasn't come up yet," answered Mollie brightly.
"I am afraid you are not alone in that experience," laughed Mr. Stuart. "Am I right, Richard?" addressing Mr. Presby. Mr. Presby nodded solemnly. "By the way, Ruth, the chauffeur will drive your car out in the morning. I heard all about that last drive of yours from the people of Brightwaters. I expect my little girl will break her neck and at the same time her dad's heart one of these days."
"I am not afraid for the first, but I shouldn't like to be responsible for the latter," answered Ruth soberly.
"To-night we won't think of serious subjects. We are to make it a real holiday, eh, Richard?"
"That is our plan. We want the 'Automobile Girls' to enjoy themselves. It makes us happy to see them so happy. I've never seen Olive more happy than she is to-night."
Olive was radiant. She, like her girl guests, was dressed in white, with a sprig of holly pinned to her waist. Faces were flushed, eyes sparkling. They were a happy, joyous lot of young women. Olive stole into the drawing room that at her direction the servants alreadyhad cleared of rugs, moving the furniture to the sides of the room. The only light there was from the blazing fireplace. Olive sat down at the piano.
"Come on, everybody!" she called, striking up a lively two-step.
The "Automobile Girls" ran for the drawing room. With them went the older members of the party. Ruth grabbed her father and led him a giddy dance. Bob Stevens claimed a dance with Bab. Mr. Presby's gouty foot would not permit his joining in the frolic, so Bob very thoughtfully cut short his dance with Barbara, dancing a few minutes with each of the other girls. Thomas Warrington Presby was turning handsprings in a corner of the room, and, being in the shadow, he was not disturbed in his antics.
Soon after this Mrs. Presby appeared at the door.
"Children," she called. "You are invited to come to the dining room. I do not think a second invitation will be necessary."
It was not. There was a grand rush for the dining room, followed by a chorus of "ahs" and "ohs" as they caught sight of a real, old-fashioned Christmas tree, all alight with candles, glittering with spangles, many-hued balls and yards and yards of sparkling frosted fringe.At its top and hovering over it, floated a cherub, supported by an invisible wire suspended from the ceiling. At the base of the tree were the presents. There seemed to be a whole truck load of them. Some very large packages excited the curiosity of the girls, but what caused the most merriment was a huge red automobile, made of wire and red paper. The automobile was filled with red roses, both being the gift to the "Automobile Girls" from their friend, Mrs. Cartwright.
It fell to the lot of Mr. Stuart to distribute the presents. There was a rifle for Tom, small gifts for all the girls from Mrs. Thurston, Mrs. Presby and Miss Sallie, who had come over earlier in the day, having spent most of her time thus far in getting the gifts ready for the presentation. Bab and Mollie gave each of their friends drawn-work handkerchiefs and some small pieces of embroidery, all their own work, to Miss Sallie and Mrs. Presby. As yet the large packages that held so much of mystery had not been opened.
Ruth finally slipped over and whispered to her father. He nodded. At that she hurried to the tree, dragging the largest of the packages out into the light. Mr. Stuart cut the strings, Ruth being too impatient to untie them. A great heap of tissue paper, that piled highon the floor, gave promise of something good. Ruth drew out a long, black object which she ran over and placed in Barbara's arms.
"There, you dear! That should keep you warm," she said. "This is from father and myself."
Barbara stared at the object that lay across her arms. It was a three-quarter length Persian lamb coat. Barbara was too astonished to catch the meaning of it all.
Aunt Sallie took the coat from Barbara's arms, turned the girl about and slipped the coat on.
"Oh-h-h!" gasped Bab, catching sight of herself in a mirror. "No, no, I can't accept it. It is—isn't right, Ruth—Mr. Stuart. Oh, you shouldn't have done this! I didn't look for anything but some simple little gift. But this lovely coat. Oh, Mollie, Mollie." Bab's eyes were swimming.
"Never mind, Molliekins," twinkled Mr. Stuart. "There is something in the other package that I think will please you equally well. Ruth, aren't you going to give my little golden-haired girl her present?"
Ruth flew to the second large package, the strings of which had been cut by Mr. Stuart. From this package Ruth drew forth a coat exactly like Barbara's, for Mollie. Two capsof the same material were placed on the heads of the Thurston girls. Mollie needed no urging to put her coat on. She slipped into it, then began dancing about the floor, regardless of whose toes she stepped on. Fortunately for her, she missed Mr. Presby's gouty foot.
"Now what do you think of yourselves, you dears?" questioned Ruth.
"Splendid!" cried Mollie.
Barbara shook her head, though her flushed face reflected the happiness she felt. She glanced questioningly at Grace. The latter was smiling with no trace of envy in her pleasant face. Then came Grace's turn. She, too, received a coat and cap, these being of gray squirrel. Olive's surprise was a set of silver fox furs, with a stole that reached almost to her feet.
Ruth was last. Mr. Stuart opened a velvet case, then slipped a slender gold chain about the neck of his daughter. From the chain was suspended an exquisite pearl pendant. For Bob Stevens there was a handsome scarf pin from the Presbys. The girls' gifts to the young man were gloves and ties, a silver-handled pocket knife and other odds and ends that caused Tommy to sniff disdainfully.
"That's just like girls," he jeered. "Why didn't you get him a rifle or an automobile orsomething that he could do something with? I'd rather have a pair of rubber boots than all of that truck."
But Bob Stevens was well pleased. He was greatly surprised, for he had not looked for presents. The candy pull had been forgotten. The girls were too happy in their new possessions, though Barbara Thurston was a little troubled over the magnificence of the gifts for herself and Mollie. She did not think Mr. Stuart should have given them such expensive gifts. In spite of the happiness of the day and evening a shadow overhung the entire party at Treasureholme. Perhaps Barbara Thurston felt it more deeply than any of the other girls. And instead of lightening the shadow was to grow deeper before the night was ended.
A CHORUS of "Merry Christmas" was heard as the clock in the hall struck the hour of midnight. Olive was seated at the piano. As the strokes of the old clock ceased, she touched the keys softly, then began to sing. The girls knew the song. They joined with her,raisingtheir sweet, young voices in the Christmas anthem:
"Hark the herald angels singGlory to the new-born King!Peace on earth, and mercy mild,God and sinners reconciled!"
Ere the song ended, Ruth's father had slipped away. He had been profoundly stirred. Ruth saw him go. She stole away after him. It was half an hour later that Barbara, on her way to her own room, where Mollie already had gone, saw Ruth's door slightly ajar. Bab tapped lightly. Ruth's voice bade her enter. But Bab shrank back when she saw Mr. Stuart sitting there. His face was drawn and sad. There were tears in Ruth's eyes. Barbara could scarcely keep back her own tears, so keenly did she feel for these two whom sheloved so well. The girl stammered an apology and drew back.
"Bab, dear, come in," called Mr. Stuart.
"Yes, do. We need you. Perhaps you may be able to make daddy smile. I can't, because I have no smiles left in me."
"I—I am afraid I haven't, either," answered Barbara, with trembling lips. "Hadn't I better go to my own room? Perhaps you wish to talk undisturbed."
"We want you here," answered Mr. Stuart. "Please close the door and sit down." Bab walked to the centre of the room, where she stood leaning against a table gazing down on them questioningly. Ruth nestled on her father's knee with an arm thrown affectionately about his neck.
"My dear," he said, addressing Barbara, "I have just been telling Ruth that this may be the last Christmas that she will be able to have all her heart craves. I mean in the way of luxuries. My business affairs are in a very bad way. You already know that Mr. Presby has no hopes of being able to pull through. When he goes, I go. We shall go down together. We have been speculating in wheat. We have loaded up so heavily that I see no possibility of getting out." He paused reflectively while the lines of his face grew haggard.
"You mean you are going to lose all you have?" almost whispered Barbara.
"Yes. Instead of the price of wheat going up, as it should have done at this season of the year, wheat has been forced down and down by a strong bear market. Behind it all there is a powerful but mysterious force, a master brain that is forcing the price down and seeking to ruin us."
"Have you no idea who is doing this—who your enemy is?" asked Barbara.
"Nothing more than a vague suspicion. You see, the trading is done largely through others. There is no one man, so far as we have been able to discover, who is crowding us, forcing us to load up and to hold at a frightful cost to ourselves. We know, however, that there is an individual force back of this movement. Richard has mortgaged his property to the last cent. After the first of the year, unless there be a turn for better in his affairs, Treasureholme will be taken away from him. After the first of the year I shall be a ruined man financially."
"Mr. Stuart," said Barbara in a steady voice, "I felt that you should not have spent all that money on those beautiful gifts for us. I feel even more strongly about it now. Won't—won't you please take them back? Oh, you understand what I mean," cried Barbara, flushinghotly as she saw his gaze fixed inquiringly upon her.
"Yes, my dear, I do. And I thank you. You are a noble girl. But even such a sacrifice on your part would do no good. A few hundred dollars would make no difference. I wanted Ruth and her friends to have a happy Christmas; I wanted you all to be remembered as you deserve. As it is, I have not done all that I had wished to do."
"Oh, you have done too much!" exclaimed Barbara.
"I wanted you as well as Ruth to understand just how matters stand. I feel better for having unburdened my mind."
"Would it help you in the least if you were to know who this man is who is driving you and Mr. Presby to failure?" asked Bab.
"It might help somewhat, thought it may be too late. Had I known a month ago I might have succeeded in turning the tide against him."
"Oh, daddy, give it up! It's a dreadful business," begged Ruth.
"I am afraid I shall have to, whether or not I wish to do so. I agree with you that it is a dreadful business, and if I get out of the woods this time, I am through with speculation. Now, children run along. I wish to talk with Mr. Presby. He awaits me downstairs."
Mr. Stuart kissed both girls, but clung to their hands a moment as he gazed into their eyes. Then he released the hands and moved toward the door. Ruth and Barbara stood watching him until Mr. Stuart had passed from their sight and they heard him descending the stairs.
"Good night, dear. I can't talk any more to-night," said Ruth, controlling her voice with an effort.
"I—I am afraid I can't either," answered Bab, with averted eyes.
She left the room rather hurriedly, closing the door behind her. For a long time after Barbara had left Ruth Stuart's room, she lay in her own bedroom on a lounge staring straight up at the ceiling. Mollie was asleep, her golden head barely visible above the tops of the covers. "If I could only do something for these good friends," murmured Bab. "But what can a girl do? I wonder how much money it would take to save them? It would take a lot, I know."
After a time Barbara got up to get her handkerchief. She had dropped hers in Ruth's room. On the dresser lay Barbara's hand bag, the one she had carried with her on her way from Kingsbridge. She had not used it since, Ruth having bought her a very handsome bag in Chicago during one of their shopping expeditions. Babremembered that there was a handkerchief in the bag.
Opening the bag, she drew out the handkerchief which lay under some other articles. As she did so something white fluttered to the floor a few feet from where she was standing. Barbara wiped her eyes, then stood regarding herself in the mirror. She saw that her own face was troubled and that her eyes were red, as though she had been weeping. Then she stepped over, picking up the handsome coat that Mr. Stuart and Ruth had given her for Christmas. With a sigh Bab laid the coat down, smoothed it out and began preparing for bed. She had given no further thought to the little piece of white cardboard that had slipped from her handkerchief a few moments before. Bab was in bed, snuggling down by Mollie, very shortly afterwards, with the lights turned off. The girl lay staring into the darkness until her weary eyelids closed and she dropped off to sleep.
When Barbara awoke the following morning Mollie was still sleeping soundly. Bab, however, rose at once, still rubbing her eyes and trying to recall something that had been troubling her when she went to sleep. Suddenly it all came back to Bab in a flood of disagreeable recollection.
Barbara took her time at making her toilet,thinking deeply as she brushed her thick, fine hair before the mirror. The girl had half turned to call Mollie when all at once she caught sight of the bit of pasteboard lying on the floor.
"I wonder what that is? I remember seeing something fall from the bag last night."
She picked up the card, glanced at it carelessly and was about to toss it on the dresser top when suddenly Bab uttered a little gasp. Her hand trembled. She gazed with staring eyes at the name on the card. "Mr. Nathan Bonner," she read.
For the moment Bab continued to stare.
"The man in section thirteen," she murmured. Bab tried to recall what had been said about Nathan Bonner, but she could not remember. She knew only that what she had heard had left an unpleasant impression on her mind. It was Nathan Bonner whom she had seen in the Pit at the Board of Trade. She shuddered as she recalled the almost demoniac expression on that hard, cruel face. Then all at once the conversation that she had overheard while lying in her berth in the sleeping car on that eventful night came before her.
"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Barbara under her breath.
"What ever is the matter with you, Bab?" demanded a voice from the bed.
"Oh, Molliekins, I've made such an exciting discovery. But I can't say a word about it. I must find Mr. Stuart this very minute. I must hurry. I haven't a moment to lose. Oh, I do hope I am not too late!"
BARBARA had slipped on a kimono and was starting for the door.
"Aren't you going to kiss me good morning?" pouted Mollie.
Bab ran back, throwing her arms about Mollie, giving her sister a quick embrace and kiss; then she hurried from the room, going straight to Ruth's bedroom. To her surprise, she found Ruth Stuart fully dressed. The girl was sitting before a window staring out at the whitened fields.
"Oh, Ruth, I'm so glad I found you awake. Do you know whether your father is up yet?"
"Yes. Why, dear?"
"I must see him at once. I have important information for him. You will excuse me, won't you, if I run down to see him? Is he downstairs?"
Ruth shook her head sorrowfully. There was no laughter in her eyes this morning. She seemed very different from the bright, carefree Ruth of old.
"Father is not here, Bab."
"No-ot here?" gasped Bab.
"No; he left on the seven o'clock train for Chicago this morning. After an all-night conference between him and Mr. Presby, it was decided that daddy must go into the city early this morning to see that Mr. Thompson whom you girls met at the wreck of the car on your journey to Chicago. I don't know what it is all about, but I suspect it is money," concluded Ruth with a trace of bitterness in her tone. "When I think how happy you girls are in your little home without wealth, I sometimes wish I had never known luxury. But what did you want to see father about?" demanded Ruth suddenly.
"I—I wanted to tell him something. Oh, please don't ask me now, Ruth, dear. Is—is he at home or at the office?"
"At home, I think. The office will not be open to-day, this being a holiday."
"Then I am going to Chicago to see him," declared Barbara firmly.
Ruth gazed at her incredulously.
"You can't mean that?"
"But I do."
"Alone?"
"Unless Aunt Sallie will accompany me. I would rather she did not to-day."
"Bab, I don't know what you have in that little head of yours, but I do know that is it important. You are not flighty, like myself.You need not tell me what is it that is troubling you, but if you wish, I will go to town with you."
"Oh, will you really go with me, Ruth?" cried Bab, her face expressing her relief at Ruth's declaration. "Then let's get ready at once."
"You forget that we have Aunt Sallie to reckon with first, Bab," reminded Ruth.
Miss Sallie for a time gave promise of wholly defeating Barbara's plan to go into the city to see Mr. Stuart. However, after Bab had taken Miss Sallie into her confidence, the latter gave a reluctant consent. Ruth knew her way about so well that there would be no possibility of getting lost, and then they were going to her home, which made the journey seem less undesirable than it might have under other circumstances.
The result was that Ruth and Barbara took the nine o'clock train for Chicago that morning amid loud protests from Olive, Mollie and Grace. Ruth regretted that the man had not come out with Mr. A. Bubble that morning. She hoped, however, that they might find the car at home. Perhaps her father intended to drive out in the car that night. However, Barbara's mission being so urgent, the best thing to do was to take a train for Chicago at once.
From the station in Chicago the girls proceeded quickly to the Stuart home. Mr. Stuart was not at home. He had not been there, but had called up on the telephone to say that he would try to be home for luncheon. Ruth went to the telephone and called up her father's office. Mr. Stuart's secretary, who had been called there to do some important work that day, said his employer would be in in half an hour. Bab announced her intention of going to the office, urging Ruth not to trouble to accompany her, as her friend had several matters to attend to at home.
"Very well," answered Ruth, after a moment's reflection, "I will call a taxicab. I'll tell the driver exactly where to leave you. You must make him wait for you, then you can come straight back here. I know you want to see daddy alone, but I'm not a bit jealous," she added, giving Bab's pink cheek a loving pinch. "Daddy will be surprised to see you. You probably will be in time to take luncheon with him down town. I don't believe he will be home for luncheon now, it's getting so late. It's too bad that our Christmas dinner at Treasureholme had to be spoiled first with father's going away, then you making up your mind to rush down to Chicago. Tell me, dear, have you an idea in that little head of yours that you canhelp father in his present difficulty?" questioned Ruth earnestly.
"Yes, I have," admitted Barbara, "But I would rather not tell you anything about it. You might make fun of me and convince me that I was foolish. I might be afraid to go to Mr. Stuart in that event, fearing he might make fun of me, too, but——"
"Not father! There is the taxicab. I'll go out and tell the driver what I wish him to do." Ruth hurried out with her friend, giving the driver such directions as she had decided upon.
The drive to the building in which Mr. Stuart's office was located occupied not more than fifteen minutes, for, this being a holiday, the streets were reasonably clear of the heavier vehicles that usually interfere with the traffic. Barbara knew the building, having been there before. She therefore found no difficulty in making her way to the office. The driver, acting upon Ruth's orders, waited below.
But Bab again was fated to be disappointed. Mr. Stuart had not yet returned, his secretary informed her. Barbara decided to wait awhile. She inquired as to where she might find Mr. Stuart, but the secretary could not say. He informed her that there were important business conferences on for that day, though Mr. Stuart might be looked for at any moment.
Bab went down and dismissed the taxicab, then returned to the office to wait. An hour went by, and still Mr. Stuart had not returned. So she entered into conversation with the not unwilling secretary by asking him if he knew Mr. Bonner, a Chicago broker.
"Yes, I know him. Is he an acquaintance of yours?" he asked curiously.
"I've met him. Where is his office?"
The secretary told her, then added:
"You're not going to seehim, are you?"
"I must see Mr. Stuart," replied Barbara evasively. "I'd better go, for he may go home without returning to the office."
"That may be," said the secretary. "If he comes in, whom shall I tell him called?"
"Miss Barbara Thurston," she answered, as she hurried away.
Bab had some difficulty in getting past the clerks in the outer room, but was finally ushered into Mr. Bonner's private office.
Bonner looked pleased when he saw his visitor, but he evidently failed to recognize her.
"I'm Miss Thurston, the girl who saved your life perhaps in the wreck some time ago," she announced boldly and according to her plan.
"Of course! How stupid of me! I owe a great deal to you, Miss Thurston."
"You can do a great deal, Mr. Bonner," putin the girl quickly. "I've come to ask that you keep your promise to me."
"Let me see, was it a box of bon-bons?" questioned Bonner lightly.
Barbara ignored this and asked bluntly:
"Why do you insist on ruining Mr. Stuart and Mr. Presby?"
"Please explain yourself," said Bonner harshly, taken off his guard and flushing hotly.
Barbara did so, in girlish fashion.
"Young woman, did Robert Stuart send you to intercede for him?"
"Oh, no! He would be displeased if he knew that I had come here to-day."
"Miss Thurston, I admire your pluck. I, not being responsible for Mr. Stuart's or for Mr. Presby's speculations, can of course do nothing for you in this. If I could, I think my gratitude to you for saving my life would take a personal form. This is business, and in that each man fights for himself. By the way, how did you get the notion that I am in any way responsible for Mr. Stuart's misjudgment on market conditions?"
"I chanced to overhear your conversation with your friend 'Jim' on the sleeper."
"So you played eavesdropper! I would not have thought it of you, Miss Thurston."
"It was impossible not to hear; but whenyou mentioned Mr. Stuart's name, I listened, call it what you please."
"I presume you told Robert Stuart what you heard," he responded, again flushing.
"No, Mr. Bonner—not yet."
With the words, Barbara rose and ran out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Her face was aflame and she was trembling.
When she reached the street she decided to walk for part of the distance, so that she would have time to quiet her agitation before she should reach the Stuarts' home. It was growing dark before she realized that she would have to take a taxi or the Stuarts would be very much worried about her.
"Oh, Bab, where have you been? We've been frightfully worried," cried Ruth. "Dad's home, and he said his secretary told him you'd left the office about three o'clock."
"I started to walk, and forgot how late it was, Ruth."
Mr. Stuart, who had come into the hall in time to hear the conversation and noting how tired Bab looked, said:
"Come to dinner now, and Barbara can tell us things later."
When dinner was over and they were seated around the library fire, Barbara turned to Mr. Stuart and said:
"I can tell you the name of the man who's fighting you and Mr. Presby, Mr. Stuart. Will the knowledge do you any good?"
"You, Barbara! How can you know this? It would have helped a month ago, my girl; I fear it is too late now."
Bab's heart sank. Was what she had done—and it had been hard for a girl to do—in vain?
"Why does Mr. Nathan Bonner hate you?"
"Nathan Bonner started, a green boy, as a clerk in my office. I thought him worthy and helped him, but finally found it necessary to dismiss him."
"Yes, he's crooked," said Barbara. Mr. Stuart started and looked at the girl in amazement; so she settled back and told him the story of the trip to Chicago in detail. "He mentioned your name, Mr. Stuart. He also said that because I had saved his life, he would assist me if I ever needed aid. To-day he refused."
"To-day! Where did you see Bonner?"
"Oh!" Only then did Barbara tell her host how she had spent the afternoon.
"My dear, you're a very imprudent girl. Nevertheless, you have done me a service for which I can never give you adequate thanks," said Mr. Stuart, his voice husky with emotion.