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Stevenson</p> - -<table class="center" border="0" summary="CONTENTS"> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 25px;"> -<img src="images/i_dongle.jpg" width="25" alt="Decoration" -title="" /></div></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">The Quest for the Rose of Sharon</td> -<td class="tdr">$1.25</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 25px;"> -<img src="images/i_dongle.jpg" width="25" alt="Decoration" -title="" /></div></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">The Young Section Hand</td> -<td class="tdr">1.50</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">The Young Train Dispatcher</td> -<td class="tdr">1.50</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">The Young Train Master </td> -<td class="tdr">1.50</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 25px;"> -<img src="images/i_dongle.jpg" width="25" alt="Decoration" -title="" /></div></td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="center no-indent">L. C. Page & Company, Publishers<br /> -New England Building Boston, Mass.</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> -<a id="i_frontispiece"><img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" width="350" alt="“‘BEEN DIGGIN’, HEV YE! LOOKIN’ FER THE TREASURE, MEBBE!’”" -title="" /></a></div></div> - -<p class="caption">“‘BEEN DIGGIN’, HEV YE! LOOKIN’ FER THE TREASURE, MEBBE!’”<br /> -<span class="right">(<i>See page </i><a href="#Page_128">128</a>.)</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h1>THE QUEST FOR THE<br /> -ROSE OF SHARON</h1></div> - -<p class="center no-indent">By</p> - -<p class="ph3">BURTON E. STEVENSON</p> - -<p class="center no-indent"><small><i>Author of “The Marathon Mystery,” “The Halliday<br /> -Case,” “The Young Section Hand,” etc.</i></small></p> - -<p class="center no-indent p4b">ILLUSTRATED</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50px;"> -<a id="i_logo"><img src="images/i_logo.jpg" width="50" alt="Publisher Logo" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="center no-indent p4">BOSTON L. C. PAGE &<br /> -COMPANY MDCCCCIX</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center no-indent"><i>Copyright, 1906</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">By The Butterick Publishing Co.</span><br /> -<br /> -<i>Copyright, 1909</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">By L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> -(INCORPORATED)<br /> -<br /> -<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> -<br /> -First Impression, April, 1909<br /> -<br /> -Electrotyped and Printed at<br /> -THE COLONIAL PRESS:<br /> -C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, U.S.A.</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak">Contents</p></div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" summary="CONTENTS"> - -<tr><td class="tdc"><small>CHAPTER</small></td> -<td class="tdl"> </td> -<td class="tdc"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">I.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Grandaunt Nelson</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">II.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Messenger from Plumfield</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">III.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Problem</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Our New Home</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">V.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">I Begin the Search</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">I Find an Ally</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Varieties of the Rose of Sharon</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The House Beautiful</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">An Interview with the Enemy</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">X.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Retribution</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Shadow in the Orchard</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Bearding the Lion</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Surrender</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Rose of Sharon</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak" id="List_of_Illustrations">List of Illustrations</p></div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> - -<tr><td class="tdl"> </td> -<td class="tdbr"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtl">“‘<span class="smcap">Been diggin’, hev ye? Lookin’ fer the treasure,<br /> -mebbe!</span>’” (<i>See page 128</i>)</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#i_frontispiece"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtl">“<span class="smcap">She sailed out of the room</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo1">16</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtl">“<span class="smcap">‘Oh, I suppose I can get ready,’ faltered mother,<br /> -a little dazed</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo2">29</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtl">“<span class="smcap">I saw from their flushed faces that they had,<br /> -indeed, made some discovery</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo3">99</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtl">“<span class="smcap">‘Jane!’ I gasped.... ‘Jane, oh, Jane, I’ve found<br /> -it!</span>’”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo4">194</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtl">“<span class="smcap">He stretched out a lean hand to take it, but<br /> -Mr. Chester snatched it hastily away</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo5">199</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1 nobreak">The -Quest for the Rose of Sharon</p></div> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_I">Chapter I<br /> -<span class="smaller">Grandaunt Nelson</span></h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Grandaunt</span> always was eccentric. Indeed, I -was sometimes tempted to call her a much -harsher name in the dark days when the clouds -hung so heavy above us that I often doubted if -there really was a sun behind them. But, as Mr. -Whittier says, “Death softens all resentments, -and the consciousness of a common inheritance of -frailty and weakness modifies the severity of judgment;” -and, looking back through the mist of -years which blurs the sharp outlines of those days -of trial, I can judge grandaunt more leniently than -it was then possible for me to do. So I will let the -adjective stand as I have written it.</p> - -<p>I remember our first meeting as distinctly as -though it had happened yesterday.</p> - -<p>I had wandered down the shining path of slate -to our front gate, one morning. It had rained the -night before, which accounted for the path shining -so in the sun’s rays; and the air was soft and warm, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span>and the world altogether beautiful—but not to -me, for I was oppressed by a great sorrow which I -could not in the least understand. So I stood for -a long time, clutching the slats of the gate, and -gazing disconsolately out at the great, unknown -world beyond.</p> - -<p>Solitary pilgrimages into that world had always -been forbidden me, and I had never questioned the -wisdom or justice of the edict; being well content, -indeed, with the place God had given me to live -in, and desiring nothing better than to stay in my -own little Paradise behind the shelter of the gate, -with the Angel of Peace and Contentment guarding -it, and watch the world sweep by. But that -morning a hot rebellion shook me. Things were -not as they had been in my Paradise,—all the -joy had gone out of it; the sun seemed to shine no -longer in the garden; the Angel had flown away. -Why I scarcely knew, but with sudden resolution -I reached for the latch.</p> - -<p>And just then a tall figure loomed over me, and -I found myself staring up into a pair of terrifically-glittering -spectacles.</p> - -<p>“What’s your name, little girl?” asked the -stranger.</p> - -<p>“Cecil Truman, ma’am,” I stammered, awed -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span>by the severity of her face and a certain magisterial -manner which reminded me of the Queen of -Hearts—as though she might at any moment cry, -“Off with her head!”—and far more effectively -than the foolish Queen of Hearts ever did.</p> - -<p>“Cecil Truman, ma’am,” I repeated, for she -said nothing for a moment, only stood looking -down at me in the queerest manner, and I thought -she had not understood.</p> - -<p>“Cecil!” she said, at last, with a derisive sniff. -“Why, that’s a boy’s name! Yet it’s like him, too; -yes, I recognize him in that! Nothing sensible -about him!”</p> - -<p>I hadn’t the least idea what she meant, but dug -desperately at the path with my toe, certain that -I had committed some hideous offence.</p> - -<p>“Is that the only name you’ve got?” she demanded, -suddenly.</p> - -<p>“Dick calls me ‘Biffkins,’ ma’am,” I said, -hesitatingly. “Perhaps you’ll like that better.”</p> - -<p>But she only sniffed again, as she leaned over -the gate and raised the latch.</p> - -<p>“I’m your Grandaunt Nelson,” she announced, -and started up the path to the house. Then she -stopped, looking back. “Aren’t you coming?” -she demanded.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span></p> - -<p>“No, ma’am,” I answered, for it did not seem -probable to me that Grandaunt Nelson was calculated -to bring the sunlight back into my Paradise. -“I’m going away.”</p> - -<p>“Going away!” she repeated sharply. “What’s -the child thinking of? Going away where?”</p> - -<p>For answer, I made a sort of wide gesture toward -the world outside the gate, and reached again for -the latch.</p> - -<p>But she had me by the arm in an instant, and -with no gentle grasp.</p> - -<p>“You’ll come with me,” she said grimly, and -hustled me beside her up the path, so rapidly that -my feet touched it only occasionally.</p> - -<p>I do not remember the details of my mother’s -reception of grandaunt; but I do remember that -I was handed over to her by my formidable relative -with the warning that I needed a spanking. And -presently mother took me up to her room to find -out what it was all about; and when I had told -her, as well as I could, she kissed me and cried -over me, murmuring that she, also, would love to -run away, if she only could; for the beautiful -Prince had vanished from her fairy kingdom, too, -and was never, never coming back. But, after all, -she said, it was only cowards who ran away; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span>brave people did not run away, but faced their -trials and made the best of them.</p> - -<p>“And oh, Cecil,” she added, smiling at me, -though the smile was a little tremulous, “We -will be brave, won’t we, and never, never run -away?”</p> - -<p>I promised, with my head against her shoulder, -but I must confess that, at the moment, I felt -anything but brave.</p> - -<p>There was soon, no doubt, another reason why -she should wish to run away, and why she needed -all her courage and forbearance to keep from doing -so; for not only was her Prince vanished, but she -was a queen dethroned.</p> - -<p>From the moment of her arrival, grandaunt -assumed charge of things; the house and everything -therein contained were completely under -her iron sway, and we bowed to her as humbly as -did the serfs of the Middle Ages to their feudal -lord, who held the right of justice high and low.</p> - -<p>Dick and I were both too young, of course, to -understand fully the great blow which had befallen -us in father’s death. Dick was eight and I -was six, and we had both grown up from babyhood -with that blind reliance upon a benevolent -and protecting Providence, characteristic of birds -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>and children. We had no thought of danger—no -knowledge of it. Now that the bolt had fallen, -we were absorbed in a sense of personal loss; we -knew that we should no longer find father in that -long room under the eaves, with its great north -light, and its queer costumes hanging against the -walls, and its tall easel and its pleasant, pungent -smell of paint. Once or twice we had tiptoed up -the stairs in the hope that, after all, he <i>might</i> be -there—but he never was—only mother, sitting -in the old, armless chair before the easel, the -tears streaming down her cheeks, as she gazed -at the half-finished painting upon it. I shall never -forget how she caught us up and strained us to her—but -there. The Prince had left his Kingdom, -and the place was fairyland no longer—only a -bleak and lonely attic which gave one the shivers -to enter. Its dear spirit had fled, and its sweetness.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I have only to close my eyes to see Grandaunt -Nelson sitting at the table-head, with mother at -the foot, and Dick and me opposite each other -midway on either side. Mother had been crushed -by the suddenness of her loss, and drooped for a -time like a blighted flower; but grandaunt was -erect and virile—uncrushable, I verily believe, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span>by any bolt which Fate could hurl against her. -Her face was dark and very wrinkled, crowned -by an aureole of white hair—a sort of three-arched -aureole, one arch over each ear, and one -above her forehead. Her lips were thin and -firmly set in a straight line, moving no more than -was absolutely necessary to give form to her words, -so that sometimes her speech had an uncanny -ventriloquial effect very startling. Her eyes were -ambushed behind her glasses, which I never saw -her without, and was sure she wore to bed with -her. Her figure was tall and angular, and was -clothed habitually in black, cut in the most uncompromising -fashion. I must concede grandaunt -the virtue—if it be a virtue in woman—that -she never made the slightest effort to disguise -her angles or to soften them.</p> - -<p>These external characteristics were evident -enough, even to my childish eyes; of her internal -ones, a few made an indelible impression upon me. -I saw that she pursued a policy of stern repression -toward herself, and toward all who came in contact -with her. If she had emotions, she never -betrayed them, and she was intolerant of those -who did. She thought it weakness. If she had -affections, she mercilessly stifled them. Duty -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>was her watchword. Again, one of the great aims -of her existence seemed to be to keep the sunlight -and fresh air out of the house—I believe she -thought them vulgar—just as her mother and -grandmother and greatgrandmother, I suppose, -had done before her.</p> - -<p>She converted our bright and sunny parlour into -a gloomy, penitential place, that sent a chill down -my back every time I peeped into it, which was -not often. The only thing in the world she seemed -afraid of was night air, and this she dreaded with -a mighty dread, believing it laden with some -insidious and deadly poison. To breathe night -air was to commit suicide—though I have never -been quite clear as to what other kind of air one -can breathe at night.</p> - -<p>Yes—one other fear she had. I remembered -it afterwards, and understood, though at the time -I simply thought it queer. Mother tucked me in -bed one evening, and kissed me and bade me -good-night. I heard her step die away down the -hall and then I suppose I fell asleep. But I soon -awakened, possessed by a burning thirst, a cruel -and insistent thirst which was not to be denied. -The moon was shining brightly, and I looked -across at mother’s bed, but saw she was not there. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span>There was nothing for it but to go after a drink -myself, so I clambered out of my cot and started -along the hall. Just about midway, I heard -someone coming up the stairs and saw grandaunt’s -gray head and gaunt figure rising before -me. I shrank back into the shadow of a door, for -I did not wish her to see me; but she did see me, -and gave a shriek so shrill and piercing that it -seemed to stab me.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” cried mother’s voice, and she -came running up the stair.</p> - -<p>Grandaunt, who was clutching the stair-rail -convulsively, did not answer, only pointed a shaking -finger in my direction.</p> - -<p>Mother hurried forward, and an instant later -was bending over me—a little white crouching -figure in the semi-darkness.</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s Cecil!” she said. “What are you -doing out of bed?”</p> - -<p>“I—I wanted a drink,” I sobbed, my face -hidden in mother’s bosom. “I was <i>so</i> thirsty.”</p> - -<p>“There, there,” and she patted me gently. -“Don’t cry. You haven’t done anything wrong. -I’m sure Aunt Nelson will say so too.”</p> - -<p>But grandaunt had stalked stiffly away to her -room.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span></p> - -<p>The incident did not serve to raise me in her -esteem; and no doubt I quite unconsciously did -many other things to annoy her—which is, in -itself, an annoyance. It was not her fault, of -course; she had never been used to children and -did not understand them. I think she regarded -them much as she did dogs and cats—nuisances, -to be permitted in the house as little as possible, -and then only in the kitchen. Her pet abhorrence, -the annoyance which she could endure least of all, -seemed to be the clatter of Dick’s shoes and mine -over the floor and up the stairs. More than once -I thought of the front gate and liberty; but I no -longer dared make a dash for freedom, for I knew -that I could never succeed in hiding from the piercing -gaze of those glittering glasses. She would -have me back in a trice and then, “Off with her -head!”</p> - -<p>Grandaunt devoted a day or two to studying us, -much as she might have studied a rare and curious -species of insect; turning us this way and that, -with no thought that we could object, or caring if -we did. Then, having made up her mind, she -called a family council, and formally announced -her intentions with regard to us.</p> - -<p>“Now, Clara,” she said to mother, “you know -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>I never <i>did</i> approve of your marriage, though I -<i>did</i> give you half a dozen hem-stitched tablecloths. -I hate gossip, and so I had to give you something. -For you’re my niece—sister Jennie’s only child. -Though Jennie and I never <i>did</i> get along together, -and I must say you’re like her. But after all, -blood’s thicker’n water, and I’m goin’ to do what’s -right by you. It’s my duty.”</p> - -<p>Mother shivered a little. She never liked that -word, duty—neither did I. If people did only -their duty, what a dreary, dreary world this would -be!</p> - -<p>“But first,” continued grandaunt, inexorably, -“we’ve got to talk things over, and find out -what we’ve got t’ go on. What did your husband -leave you?”</p> - -<p>Mother raised a protesting hand, but grandaunt -waved it aside impatiently.</p> - -<p>“Now, see here, Clara,” she cried, “you’ve got -t’ look things in the face, and the sooner you begin, -the sooner you’ll get used to it. Did he leave any -money?”</p> - -<p>“No,” answered mother, faintly, her face very -white. “That is, not much—about a hundred -dollars.”</p> - -<p>“I always said a man couldn’t earn a livin’ by -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span>paintin’ picters,” observed grandaunt. “Who -wants to pay out good money for foolishness like -that? Did he have his life insured?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered mother, her face whiter still; -“but I—I—think he allowed the policy to -lapse—”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” nodded grandaunt fiercely. “Jest -like him. But this house is yours, ain’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; the house is mine.”</p> - -<p>“It’s worth about three thousand—not more’n -that,” said grandaunt, judicially. “And it’ll -be hard to sell, for it’s built the craziest I ever saw—all -twisted around from the way a sensible -house ought to be.”</p> - -<p>“We thought it very beautiful,” said mother -meekly.</p> - -<p>“Everyone to his taste. Mebbe we’ll find some -fool ready to buy it. But even three thousand -ain’t a great deal to raise two children on,” she -added grimly, as she surveyed us through her -glasses. “And mighty hearty children, too—big -eaters and awful hard on their clothes.”</p> - -<p>“Food is cheaper than medicine,” retorted -mother, with some faint revival of her old self; -but she collapsed again under grandaunt’s severe -gaze.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span></p> - -<p>“Some food is,” snapped grandaunt, “and -some food ain’t,” and she directed her gaze toward -a plate of oranges which stood on the sideboard. -“And clothes,” she added, surveying our garments -with disapproval. “But we’ll change all that. -As I said, I’ll look out for you. But I’ve got to -work out a plan. It’s a good thing you’re my only -relatives, and there ain’t nobody else to think -about.”</p> - -<p>With that she dismissed us, and we went our -several ways—Dick and I to the nursery, where -we selected a little white-haired doll, dressed it in -black, and solemnly hanged it on a gallows of -Dick’s improvising. Mother came in and caught -us at it; and laughed a little and cried a little, and -then sat down with us on the floor and drew us to -her and told us gently that we must not mind -grandaunt’s abrupt ways; that she was sure she -had a kind heart beating under all her roughness, -and that we should grow to love her when we came -to know her better. But I, at least, was not convinced.</p> - -<p>Just at first, I think, mother was rather glad to -have someone to cling to, someone to tyrannize -over her and order her steps for her. She was -like a ship without a rudder—grateful for any -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>means of guidance. But as the days passed, the -yoke began to gall. Grandaunt, accustomed -practically all her life to having her own way, exacted -an instant and complete obedience. She -disdained to draw any glove over the mailed fist—that -would have seemed to her an unworthy -subterfuge. And at last, she announced the plan -which she had formulated, whereby to work out -our salvation.</p> - -<p>“Of course you can’t stay here,” she began, -when she had us assembled before her. “I’ll -try to sell the house.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed mother, with a sigh, “I suppose -that is best.”</p> - -<p>“Best!” echoed grandaunt. “There ain’t no -best about it. It’s the only thing you <i>can</i> do. -Besides, I can’t stay idlin’ around here any longer. -I want to get back to my own house at Plumfield, -where I expect to pass the rest of my days; I hope -in peace,” she added, though by the way she -looked at us, it was evident she had grave doubts -as to whether the hope would be realized. “I’ve -been away too long already,” she continued. “I -dare say, Abner and Jane are lettin’ the place run -to rack and ruin—I’ve never been away from it -for this long in forty year. You, Clara, and the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>girl—we’ll try to find a sensible name for her—I’ve -been thinkin’ about Martha or Susan—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” I broke out passionately; “I won’t -be—” But grandaunt silenced me with one -flash of her glasses.</p> - -<p>“You two,” she continued, “will go home with -me. But I can’t have any boy rampagin’ around -my house—the girl’s bad enough!” and she -stopped to glare at Dick, to whom she had taken an -unaccountable dislike. “So I’ll place him at -a school I know of—a place where he’ll be given -the right kind of trainin’, and get some of the -foolishness took out of him—”</p> - -<p>“But we can’t be separated, Aunt Nelson!” -cried mother. “It would break my heart and—look -at him!—I know it would break his.”</p> - -<p>Indeed Dick was turning a very white and -frightened face from one to the other, with his -hands clutching at his chair; but he choked back -the sob that rose in his throat and pressed his lips -tight together with that pluck I always admired -in him. Old Dick!</p> - -<p>“Tut-tut!” cried grandaunt. “Break, indeed! -who ever heard of a heart breaking outside of silly -novels? Nonsense!”</p> - -<p>“Indeed it isn’t nonsense!” and mother looked -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>at grandaunt with such a fire in her eye as I had -never seen there. “I tell you plainly, Aunt Nelson, -that I will never consent to any such plan.”</p> - -<p>There was a tone in her voice which could not -be mistaken. Grandaunt glared at her a moment -in astonishment, as at a sheep turned lion; then -she hopped from her chair as though it had suddenly -become red-hot.</p> - -<p>“You’ve made up your mind?” she demanded. -“Is that your last word?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said mother, resolutely. “If you will -help us on no other terms, then we must get along -as best we can without your help.”</p> - -<p>Grandaunt’s lips tightened until her mouth was -the merest line across her face.</p> - -<p>“Very well, Clara,” she said, in a voice like -thin ice. “You’ll go your road, then, and I’ll go -mine! I’ll always have the comfort of knowin’ -that I offered to do my duty by you. I hope your -children’ll thank you for this day.”</p> - -<p>“They will!” cried mother, her head erect, -her eyes blazing. “They will!”</p> - -<p class="p2b">“The more fools they!” snapped grandaunt, -in return, and with that she sailed out of the room, -leaving a somewhat awed and frightened family -behind her.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> -<a id="illo1"><img class="box" src="images/i_016.jpg" width="350" alt="“SHE SAILED OUT OF THE ROOM.”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“SHE SAILED OUT OF THE ROOM.”</p> - -<p class="p2">We sat there in tears—which were not in the -least tears of sorrow—hugging each other, listening -fearfully, as she tramped around in her -room up-stairs. Then she came down again; and -I think a swift fear that she was, after all, not -choosing wisely fell upon mother, for she half rose -and made as though she would go to her.</p> - -<p>But Dick and I held her fast, and she looked -down at us, and sank back again and strained us -to her.</p> - -<p>A moment later the front door opened and closed -again with a bang. From the window I caught -a glimpse of a tall, black figure hurrying down the -street, and that was the last I saw of Grandaunt -Nelson.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_II">Chapter II<br /> -<span class="smaller">The Messenger from Plumfield</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> history of the eight years that followed -forms no portion of this story, and need be touched -upon here only in the most casual way. After -grandaunt had washed her hands of us, as it were, -and definitely abandoned us to our fate, mother -threw off her despondency by a mighty effort of -will, and went seriously to work to plan for our -future. I like to believe that Grandaunt Nelson -really expected to hear from us, really expected -mother to appeal to her for help, and stood ready to -answer that appeal, once her terms were accepted, -just as a besieging army will kill and maim and -starve the enemy, but rush in with food and comfort -once the white flag is run up. But I suppose -there was a strain of the same blood in both of -them, for mother, having chosen her path, nerved -herself to walk in it, unassisted, to the end.</p> - -<p>She found it steep and stony, and difficult -enough. Rigid economy was necessary and we -children, of course, felt the pinch of it, though -mother guarded us all she could; but we had each -other, and I am certain none of us ever regretted -the decision which had cut us off from grandaunt’s -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>bounty. Yet even the most rigid economy would -not have availed, but for a fortunate chance—or, -perhaps I would better say, a meting out of -tardy justice.</p> - -<p>One morning—it was a Saturday, and so I -chanced to be at home—there came a knock at -the door, and when I answered it, I saw standing -there a man with a close-bearded face and long, -shaggy hair. He inquired for Mrs. Truman, and -I asked him in and ran for mother.</p> - -<p>“You are the widow of George Truman, I -believe, madam?” he said, rising as she entered -the room.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” mother answered. “Did you know -him?”</p> - -<p>“Not personally, I am sorry to say,” replied the -stranger; “but I know him intimately through -his work. It was never appraised at its true value -during his lifetime—”</p> - -<p>“No,” agreed mother, quickly, “it was not.”</p> - -<p>“But he is coming to his own at last, madam. -The world treated him just as it has treated so -many others—stones while he lived, laurels when -he died.”</p> - -<p>A quick flush had come to mother’s face and -an eager light to her eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span></p> - -<p>“Are you speaking seriously, sir?” she asked, -her hands against her breast.</p> - -<p>“Most seriously,” he assured her. “Did you -see the report of that sale of paintings at the -Fifth Avenue Art Galleries last week? No? Well, -one of your husband’s was among them—‘Breath -on the Oat’—no doubt you remember it. -Do you happen to know what your husband got -for it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said mother, “I remember very well. -It was one of his first triumphs. He sold it for -one hundred dollars.”</p> - -<p>Our visitor laughed a little cynically, and his face -clouded for a moment.</p> - -<p>“Well, Senator Bloom paid four thousand for -it last week,” he said. “Of course, the senator is -not much of a judge of pictures, but a representative -from the Metropolitan went to three thousand, -which shows the way the wind’s blowing. Your -husband’s lot was one common to artists. It’s -the dealers who get rich—not all of them,” he -added, with a wry little smile. “For I’m a dealer. -That’s what brings me here. I thought you might -perhaps have a few of his pictures still in your -possession. I’ll promise to treat you fairly.”</p> - -<p>“There are only some studies, I fear,” answered -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span>mother, her hands trembling slightly. “Would -you care to see them?”</p> - -<p>“I certainly should,” he cried, and they went -away up-stairs together.</p> - -<p>I know what it cost mother to let them go—the -contents of those portfolios, or such of them as -were marketable—the sketches, the studies, the -ideas which had developed into finished pictures. -They were a part of him, the most vital part of him -she had left; but her duty was to her children, and -she never hesitated. And one morning, nearly a -month later, came a letter. The sketches had been -sold at auction, they had awakened a very satisfactory -interest, and the net result, after deducting -the dealer’s commission, was the check for two -thousand, one hundred and fifty dollars, which was -enclosed.</p> - -<p>It came at a good hour, as I learned long afterwards; -at an hour when mother found herself -quite at the end of her resources, and failure staring -her in the face—at an hour when she was -thinking that she must swallow her pride and -appeal for help to Plumfield; hoist the white flag, -as it were, and admit defeat.</p> - -<p>As to grandaunt, we never heard from her nor -of her. When she slammed our front door behind -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>her that morning, she passed from our lives completely. -Mother wrote to her once, but received -no answer, and would not write again; and gradually -we children came to forget, almost, that she -existed, or remembered her only as a kind of myth—a -phantom which had crossed our path years -before and then disappeared for ever. Yet I now -know that she sometimes thought of us, and that, -as the years went by, the anger she felt toward us -passed away, and left, at worst, only a settled -belief in our foolishness and incapacity. Perhaps -we were foolish and incapable, but we were happy, -too!</p> - -<p>So eight years rolled around, and again we -faced a crisis. For one must eat and be clothed, -and even the sum we had got for father’s sketches -would not last for ever. Both Dick and I were -old enough now to be taken into the family council, -and mother wisely thought it best to confide in us -wholly, and we were very proud to be taken into -her confidence. Briefly, our home was mortgaged -to its full value, and would have to be sold, since -there was no way of paying off the indebtedness, -nor even of meeting the interest on it.</p> - -<p>“We will move into a smaller house,” said -mother. “We really don’t need so large a one as -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span>this,” but her eyes filled with tears, despite herself, -as she looked around at the familiar room. -“Our expenses are not great, and with the little -we will realize from the sale of the house, I -hope—”</p> - -<p>Her chin was quivering a little, and her voice -not wholly steady. I understood now why she had -worn her last gown so long; I understood many -things—and sprang into her arms sobbing, for -suddenly I saw how thoughtless and selfish I had -been; I had not helped her as I might have done, -and the thought wrung me. The hat I could have -done without, the ribbon I did not need, the -ticket for the matinee—</p> - -<p>“I’ll go to work, dear mother!” cried Dick, -jumping out of his chair, his face aglow. “Here -am I, a big, hulking fellow of sixteen! It’s time -I was doing something!”</p> - -<p>Mother looked up at him with a proud light in -her eyes, and I went over to give him a hug. I -never knew but one other boy who was anything -like as nice as Dick.</p> - -<p>“And so will I,” I said. “I’m sure there’s lots -of ways even a girl can make money—though of -course not so easily as a boy,” and I looked at -Dick a little enviously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span></p> - -<p>“Never you worry,” he said, confidently. “I’ll -take care of you, mother, and of you, too, Biffkins. -I’ll start right away.”</p> - -<p>“There’s no such hurry,” said mother, smiling -a little at our enthusiasm. “The mortgage isn’t -due for two months yet, and I’d like you to finish -this term at school, dear Dick. I had hoped that -you could graduate, but I fear—”</p> - -<p>“We won’t fear anything!” cried Dick, throwing -his arms around us both. “We’ll show this -old world a thing or two before we’re done with -it!”</p> - -<p>“That we will!” I echoed, with never a doubt -of our ability to set the world whirling any way we -chose.</p> - -<p>But in the days that followed, we both of us -began to realize that the world was very big and -indifferent, and our position in it exceedingly unimportant. -Dick managed to pick up some odd -jobs, which he could do out of school hours, but -the actual returns in money were very small; and -as for me, I soon acquired a deep distrust of those -writers who described, in the columns of the -magazines, the countless easy ways in which a girl -could make a living. I tried some of them disastrously!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span></p> - -<p>And then, one bright April morning, came the -great message! My heart leaps, even yet, when I -think of it.</p> - -<p>Just as I was starting for school, a handsome, -well-dressed man of middle age turned in at our -gate.</p> - -<p>“This is where Mrs. Truman lives, isn’t it?” -he asked, seeing me standing in the door.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” I said, and wondered with some -misgiving whether mother could have been mistaken -in the date of the mortgage.</p> - -<p>“I should like to see her for a few minutes, -if she is at home,” he added.</p> - -<p>“Come in, sir,” I said, “and I will call -her.”</p> - -<p>But we met mother coming down the front -stair as we entered the hall.</p> - -<p>“This is my mother, sir,” I said.</p> - -<p>“My name is Chester, Mrs. Truman,” began -our caller. “I come from Plumfield.”</p> - -<p>“From Plumfield!” cried mother. “Oh, then—Aunt -Nelson—”</p> - -<p>“Is dead—yes,” said Mr. Chester, gently.</p> - -<p>“Sit down, sir,” said mother, a little tremulously, -leading the way into the sitting-room. “I—I -fear,” she added, as she sat down opposite him, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>“that I have been neglectful of her. Oh, I am so -sorry! I had always hoped to see her again and -tell her— If she had only sent me word that she -was ill!”</p> - -<p>“She wasn’t ill,” broke in Mr. Chester. “Not -ill, at least, in the sense of being bed-fast. She -was in her usual health, so far as any of her -neighbours knew. She was not very intimate with -any of them, and lived a rather secluded life. She -owned a great, old-fashioned house, you know, -with large grounds surrounding it, and she lived -there with two old servants, a man who attended -to the outdoor work, and his wife, who acted as -cook and house-servant. Three days ago, the latter -found her mistress dead in bed. She was smiling, -and had evidently passed away peacefully in her -sleep.”</p> - -<p>“But three days ago!” cried mother. “Why -was I not told at once?”</p> - -<p>“I was simply carrying out her commands, Mrs. -Truman. She was a very peculiar woman, as you -doubtless know.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” mother agreed. “But she had no other -relatives, and I should have been there.”</p> - -<p>“I know you should,” assented Mr. Chester, -visibly ill at ease. “But I really had no option -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span>in the matter. Let me explain. My place happens -to adjoin Mrs. Nelson’s, and so we got to know each -other, though not nearly so well as neighbours -usually do. I am a lawyer by profession, and she -entrusted a few of her business affairs to my -hands—among other things, the making of her -will. She enjoined me strictly that under no circumstances -were you to be informed of her death -until after the funeral—”</p> - -<p>“After the funeral!” repeated mother, mechanically.</p> - -<p>“Which took place yesterday.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, this is worse than I thought!” said -mother, miserably. “I should have been there, -Mr. Chester! She was still angry with me, then. -We—we had a disagreement many years ago; but -I had hoped she had long since forgotten it.”</p> - -<p>“My dear Mrs. Truman,” protested Mr. Chester, -quickly, “please put that thought out of your mind. -Mrs. Nelson was not in the least angry with you—as -you will see. Her not desiring you at her funeral -was simply another of her peculiarities. She was -very old, you know,” he went on, hesitatingly, as -though uncertain how much he should say, “and -in her last years took up some queer beliefs. I -don’t know just what they were, but I do know that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span>she belonged to no church, and that she also forbade -that any minister should be present at her -funeral.”</p> - -<p>Mother gasped, and sank back in her chair -staring at him with eyes dark with dismay.</p> - -<p>“However,” he hastened to add, “there were -some lengths to which I did not feel justified in -going—and there <i>was</i> a minister present.”</p> - -<p>Mother drew a breath of relief.</p> - -<p>“I am glad of that,” she said. “But why have -you come to tell me all this, Mr. Chester?”</p> - -<p>“I came to take you back with me for the reading -of the will.”</p> - -<p>“The will? Am I interested in that?”</p> - -<p>“As her only living relative, you are deeply -interested. Mrs. Nelson, you know, inherited a -considerable property from her husband. I -wanted to make certain you would be present -when the will was opened.”</p> - -<p>A vivid flush had crept into mother’s cheeks, -and I confess that my own heart was beating -wildly.</p> - -<p>Perhaps—perhaps—perhaps—</p> - -<p class="p2b">“When is it to be?” asked mother, after a -moment.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> -<a id="illo2"><img src="images/i_028.jpg" width="350" alt="“‘OH, I SUPPOSE I CAN GET READY,’ FALTERED MOTHER, A LITTLE DAZED.”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“‘OH, I SUPPOSE I CAN GET READY,’ FALTERED MOTHER, A LITTLE DAZED.”</p> - -<p class="p2">“To-day, if we can get there in time. There is -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span>a train at ten-thirty—it’s not quite nine, now. -Can you be ready by then? If not, of course we -can put it off till to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I suppose I can get ready,” faltered -mother, a little dazed by the suddenness of it all. -“That is, if you advise it.”</p> - -<p>“I do advise it most strongly,” said Mr. Chester, -emphatically. “Mrs. Nelson’s will is a most -peculiar one—by far the most peculiar I ever had -anything to do with—and it is only fair to you -that it should be opened as soon as possible.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, we will go!” said mother, rising. -“You will excuse us?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly. Permit me to suggest,” he added, -“that you take things enough with you for a short -stay—for two or three days, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said mother, looking at him in surprise, -“we can’t come back to-night, then?”</p> - -<p>“No; there are some details you will have to -look after,” explained Mr. Chester, hesitatingly. -“You will, of course, use your own judgment, but -I believe you will decide to stay.”</p> - -<p>“We might as well go prepared,” mother -agreed, and hurried away to get our things together.</p> - -<p>The school bell had rung long since, quite unheeded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> -by me, who had been hanging breathless -over the back of mother’s chair, and now, while -mother got ready for the journey, I raced away to -summon Dick. He had started for school earlier -than I, having some errands to do on the way, so -to the school-house I had to go after him. He -turned quite white when he came out in answer to -the message I sent in for him and saw me standing -there, fairly gasping with excitement.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Biffkins?” he demanded, hoarsely. -“Not—”</p> - -<p>“Grandaunt Nelson’s dead,” I began; “and, -oh, Dick! we’re to go down to hear the will—by -the ten-thirty—we must hurry!”</p> - -<p>“All right,” he said, his colour coming back. -“Wait till I get excused,” and he hurried away -to tell the principal of the sudden summons.</p> - -<p>He was back in a moment, cap in hand.</p> - -<p>“All right,” he said. “Come along,” and we -hastened from the building.</p> - -<p>“You’re not angry with me, Dick?” I asked, -for he still seemed a little white and shaken.</p> - -<p>“Angry?” he repeated, looking down at me -with a quick smile. “Why, no, Biffkins. But you -needn’t have frightened a fellow half to death. I -thought—I thought—no matter what I thought.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you, Dick. -But I haven’t told you all about it yet,” I went on, -trotting along by his side. “There’s a mystery—you -know how I adore mysteries!”</p> - -<p>“What sort of mystery?” he asked, with provoking -coolness.</p> - -<p>“I don’t just know, but Mr. Chester—he’s the -lawyer—says it’s a most peculiar will. Oh, -Dick, am I really awake?” and I pinched him on -the arm.</p> - -<p>“You can’t tell whether you’re awake by pinching -<i>me</i>,” he protested. “But I guess you are, all -right. You seem a little delirious though—got -any fever?”</p> - -<p>“Only the fever of excitement, Dick,” I said. -“How can you keep so cool about it? I think it’s -wonderful!”</p> - -<p>“What’s wonderful?”</p> - -<p>“Why, the legacy—of course it’s a legacy, Dick. -We’re her only living relatives! And she lived in -a big, old-fashioned house, which she inherited -from her husband. I never thought of grandaunt -as having a husband,” I added, reflectively. “I -wonder what sort of man he was.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure I don’t know,” retorted Dick. -“What does it matter?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span></p> - -<p>“It doesn’t matter. Only, if grandaunt—” -But I didn’t finish the uncharitable sentence. -“And, oh, Dick, if it comes true, you can go on -and graduate—you won’t have to go to work.”</p> - -<p>“But I want to go to work,” said Dick, and his -face was quite gloomy, as we turned in at the gate -together.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_III">Chapter III<br /> -<span class="smaller">The Problem</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was only an hour’s run to the little station of -Fanwood, which is as near as one can get to Plumfield -by rail; and there Mr. Chester had a carriage -waiting for us, and we drove over to the little village -a mile away, where Grandaunt Nelson had -lived nearly all her life. The road was a pleasant -one, winding between well-kept hedges, and just -rolling enough to give one occasional views of the -country round about. In the distance, to the west, -we could see a range of hills, and Mr. Chester -told us that from their summit, on a clear day, one -could see the ocean, forty or fifty miles away to the -eastward.</p> - -<p>Plumfield struck me as a very fragmentary and -straggling sort of village—so straggling, in fact, -that it was scarcely recognizable as a village at all, -and seemed to have no beginning and no end. -There were two or three little stores, a church and -a few houses—</p> - -<p>“Though,” Mr. Chester explained, “the village -isn’t so small as it looks. It is spread out a good -deal, and you can’t see it all at one glance.”</p> - -<p>We had lunch at the old inn, which had been -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>built before the Revolution, so they said, and -where our arrival created quite a commotion. Mr. -Chester had hurried away to make the arrangements -for opening the will, and came back in about -an hour to tell us that everything was ready. We -walked down the street and around the corner to a -tiny frame building, with “Notary Public” on a -swinging sign over the door, and Mr. Chester -ushered us into the stuffy little office.</p> - -<p>The notary was already there, a little, wrinkled -man, with very white hair and beard which stood -out in a halo all around his face. He held his -head on one side as he talked, and reminded me of -a funny little bird. He was introduced to us as Mr. -Jones, and was evidently very nervous. I judged -that it had been a long time since his office had been -the scene of a ceremony so important as that which -was about to take place there.</p> - -<p>Scarcely were the introductions over, when the -door opened and another man came in,—a tall, -thin man, with a red face framed in a ragged -beard. He wore an old slouch hat, and a black bow -tie, and an ill-fitting black frock coat and white -trousers which bagged at the knees—the whole -effect being peculiarly rural and unkempt, almost -studiously so. Indeed, as I glanced at his face -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span>again, I fancied that, with the fantastic beard -shaved off, it would be a very clever and capable -one. His eyes were very small and very bright, and -as they rested upon me for an instant, I felt a -little shiver shoot along my spine. The notary did -not even look at him, but busied himself with some -papers on his desk. Mr. Chester, however, nodded -to him curtly, and informed us in an aside that -his name was Silas Tunstall, and that he also -was interested in the will. The newcomer, without -seeming in the least abashed by his chilly reception, -sat down calmly, balanced his hat against the wall, -leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and after -helping himself to a chew of tobacco from a package -he took from his pocket, folded his arms and -awaited events.</p> - -<p>“I think we are all here?” queried the notary, -looking inquiringly at Mr. Chester.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” nodded the latter. “We may as well -go ahead.”</p> - -<p>The notary cleared his throat and carefully -polished and adjusted his spectacles. Then he -picked up from the desk before him an impressive-looking -envelope, sealed with a great splurge of -red wax.</p> - -<p>“I have here,” he began with great solemnity, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>“the last will and testament of the late Eliza -Nelson, which has been delivered to me by Mr. -Chester, properly sealed and attested. You have -been summoned here to listen to the reading of -this document, which will then be filed for probate, -in the usual way. I will ask Mr. Chester to read -it,” and he opened the envelope and drew forth a -paper covered with writing.</p> - -<p>“It is not a very long will,” remarked Mr. -Chester, as he took the paper, “but it is, in -some respects, a most peculiar one, as you can -judge for yourselves;” and he proceeded to read -slowly:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“I, Eliza Nelson, being in full possession of -health and mental faculties, hereby declare this -to be my last will and testament.</p> - -<p>“I bequeath to my niece, Clara Truman, and -to her heirs for ever, the whole of my property, -real and personal, provided that within one month -from the date of my death, she or her heirs will -have discovered, by means of the key furnished -them herewith, the place in which I have deposited -my stocks, bonds, and other securities. -If they have not brains enough to accomplish -this, as I fear may be the case, it is evident that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>they are not fit and competent persons to administer -my property.</p> - -<p>“Consequently, in the event of their failure to -discover the depository of said stocks, bonds, etc., -within the space of one month from the date of my -death, the whole of my property, real and personal, -shall revert to the trusteeship of my friend and instructor, -Silas Tunstall, who shall have absolute -and undisturbed possession thereof for use in propagating -the philosophy of which he is so earnest -and useful a disciple, under such conditions as I -have set forth in a document to be delivered to the -said Silas Tunstall, should the property pass to -him.</p> - -<p>“Therefore, one month from the date of my -death, in the event of the failure of my niece, Clara -Truman, or her heirs, to fulfil the above conditions, -the keys to my residence shall be delivered to the -said Silas Tunstall, and he shall be given absolute -and undivided possession thereof; until which -time, Clara Truman and her heirs shall have undisturbed -possession of said property, in order that -they may, if possible, fulfil the conditions upon -which their inheritance of it is dependent.</p> - -<p>“Provided further, that whoever inherits the -property shall be bound to pay to Abner Smith and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>his wife, Jane, during life, an annuity of $300, and -to permit them to retain their present positions as -long as they care to do so.</p> - -<p>“I hereby appoint Mr. Thomas J. Chester as -my executor, without bond, to see that the provisions -of this my last will and testament are duly -complied with.</p> - -<p>“In witness whereof, I have hereunto affixed -my hand this eighteenth day of January, <span class="allsmcap">A. D.</span>, -1899.</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Eliza Nelson.</span>”</p></div> - -<p>“It is witnessed by Jane and Abner Smith,” -added Mr. Chester, “the two servants mentioned -in the will. It is regular in every way.”</p> - -<p>We sat in a dazed silence, trying to understand. -After a moment, Silas Tunstall leaned -forward.</p> - -<p>“Kin I see it?” he asked, and held out his -hand, his little eyes gleaming more brightly than -ever.</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” said Mr. Chester, and passed the -paper over to him.</p> - -<p>He examined the signatures and the date, and -then, settling back again in his chair, proceeded to -read the document through for himself. While -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>he was so engaged, I had a chance to look at him -more closely, and I was struck by the profound -meanness of his appearance. What sort of philosophy -could it be, I wondered, of which he was -an earnest and useful disciple? Not one, certainly, -which made for largeness of character, if -Mr. Tunstall himself was to be taken as an example, -and if I read his countenance aright. I saw that -my aversion was shared by the other two men -present, who no doubt knew Mr. Tunstall well. -Both of them sat watching him gloomily, as he -read the will, but neither spoke or showed the impatience -which they probably felt.</p> - -<p>When he had finished, he handed the paper -back to Mr. Chester, without a word, but his face -was positively glowing with a satisfaction he made -no effort to conceal.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, “thet’s all reg’lar. Anything -else?”</p> - -<p>Then, suddenly, a thought occurred to me.</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t it say that there is a key to be furnished -us, Mr. Chester?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” he said quickly. “I had forgotten. -Here it is,” and he handed mother a little sealed -envelope. “You will see it is addressed to you, -Mrs. Truman,” he added.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span></p> - -<p>“It doesn’t feel like a key,” she murmured, -holding it between her fingers. Then she read -what was written on the outside of the envelope:</p> - -<div class="box2"><p class="center no-indent">Key to be given my niece, Clara Truman, or her<br /> -heirs, on the day on which my will is opened.</p></div> - -<p>“I have no idea what the envelope contains,” -said Mr. Chester. “It was brought to me sealed -as you see it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t you see!” I cried, fairly jumping -in my chair with excitement. “It’s not that kind -of a key—not a for-sure key—it’s a key to the -puzzle—a key to where the bonds and things -are.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ll soon see,” said mother, and tore -open the envelope with trembling fingers. Mr. -Chester, I think, had half a mind to stop her, but -thought better of it and leaned back in his chair -again.</p> - -<p>I couldn’t wait—I was dying with impatience—and -I skipped over to her side.</p> - -<p>The only contents of the envelope was a little -slip of paper.</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s poetry!” I cried, as mother drew it -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>out and unfolded it. And, indeed, there were four -rhymed lines written upon it:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“The Rose of Sharon guards the place</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Where the Treasure lies; so you must trace</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Four to the right, diagonally three,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And you have solved the Mystery.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Not good verse, perhaps; but sufficiently tantalizing!</p> - -<p>I don’t know precisely how it happened, but as -I stooped to take the slip of paper from mother’s -fingers, it somehow fluttered away from us, and -after a little gyration or two, settled to the floor -exactly at Silas Tunstall’s feet. He picked it up, -before any one could interfere, and calmly proceeded -to read the lines written upon it, before -he handed it back to us. I saw the quick flush -which sprang to Mr. Chester’s face, but the whole -thing was over in a minute, almost before anyone -could say a word.</p> - -<p>Mr. Tunstall’s face was positively beaming, and -he chuckled audibly as he picked up his hat and -rose to his feet.</p> - -<p>“Thet’s all fer the present, ain’t it, Mr. Chester?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s all, I think.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p> - -<p>“Let’s see—when did Mis’ Nelson die?”</p> - -<p>“Three days ago—the seventeenth.”</p> - -<p>“One month from thet’ll be May seventeenth, -won’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“All right; don’t ferget the date. May seventeenth—I’ll -see ye all ag’in then. Good day, -madam,” he added, with a deep bow to mother.</p> - -<p>He smiled around upon us with malicious meaning, -and I fancied his eye lingered upon me for an -instant longer than the rest. Then he went out and -shut the door behind him.</p> - -<p>I could have sworn that I heard him chuckling -to himself as he went down the steps to the street.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_IV">Chapter IV<br /> -<span class="smaller">Our New Home</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">I think</span> we were all a little dazed by the scene -we had just gone through. Indeed, the problem -grandaunt had set us was enough to confuse anyone. -For myself, I know that I have only the most -confused recollection of Mr. Chester bundling us -into the carriage, of a long drive over a smooth -country road, past stately old houses and pretty -modern cottages half-hidden among the trees, and -finally of rolling through a massive stone gateway, -and of getting out, at last, before a great, square -red-brick house with a beautiful columned doorway, -where two old people, a man and a woman, -stood bobbing their heads to us and gazing at us -with a curiosity not unmixed with apprehension.</p> - -<p>“This is to be your home for the next month, -at least,” said Mr. Chester, “and, I hope, for -always. This is Abner Smith,” he continued, -beckoning the old people forward, “and this is -his wife, Jane. They were good and faithful servants -to Mrs. Nelson, as she has said.”</p> - -<p>They were a plump and comfortable-looking -couple, with faces like ruddy apples and hair like -driven snow, and eyes which still retained some -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>of the fire of youth. They were good to look at, -striking examples of a well-spent life and beautiful -old age. One saw instantly that they were trustworthy -and lovable, and as I looked at them, I -knew that they would be good and faithful servants -to us also. I felt, somehow, that the possession -of these two old retainers gave an added -dignity to the family—a sort of feudal antiquity, -very pleasant and impressive, and quite in keeping -with the place.</p> - -<p>But I had only a moment for such reflections, -for Mr. Chester bade us good-bye, adding that he -was coming back to take us home with him to dinner.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got a little something a-waitin’ fer ye,” -observed Mrs. Abner, hesitating between a natural -shyness and a desire to please. “I know how -travellin’ tires a person out.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed it does,” agreed mother cordially, and -we followed our guide into the house, along a wide -hall, and through an open door into a pleasant -room, where a table stood spread with snowy linen, -and looking most inviting.</p> - -<p>“Why, this is scrumptious!” cried Dick. -“Mrs. Smith, I think you’re—you’re a jewel!”</p> - -<p>“It’s jest a little lunch,” she said, apologetically.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p> - -<p>“Jest t’ take the edge off;” but her cheeks flushed -with pleasure at his words.</p> - -<p>“And I’m used t’ bein’ called Jane, sir,” she -added.</p> - -<p>“And I’m not in the least used to being called -sir,” retorted Dick, “and I don’t like it. My -name is Dick, and this young lady’s name is Cecil, -but she prefers to be called Biffkins. Don’t you -think Biffkins suits her?”</p> - -<p>Jane looked me over with a critical countenance, -while Dick watched her, his eyes twinkling.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered, gravely, at last, “I think -it does.”</p> - -<p>“I knew you’d say so,” laughed Dick. “Everybody -does. Now, I gave her that name, and I’m -proud of it.”</p> - -<p>Mother had been taking off her hat and listening -with an amused countenance.</p> - -<p>“You mustn’t take these two children too -seriously, Jane,” she said, warningly. “And if -they don’t behave themselves properly, just let me -know!”</p> - -<p>Jane smiled at both of us, but she was evidently -thinking of something else, for she stood pulling -a corner of her apron nervously between her -fingers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span></p> - -<p>“I—I hope you’ve come t’ stay, ma’am,” -she said, at last, looking at mother with an apprehension -she could not conceal. Plainly, she -did not believe in the philosophy of which Mr. -Tunstall was so vigorous and enlightened a disciple—or, -perhaps, it was the disciple she objected -to. I felt my heart warm to Jane.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” said mother. “We hope to -stay, too; but there’s a condition—”</p> - -<p>“Yes’m,” nodded Jane, “I know—me an’ -Abner was the witnesses, y’know,” she went on, -apologetically. “I’m free to confess, we never -quite understood it.”</p> - -<p>“We none of us quite understand it, yet,” -answered mother. “We’ll see what we can make -of it to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Jane took the words for a dismissal, and left us -to ourselves. We were all weary and hungry, more, -I think, from excitement than fatigue, but ten -minutes with the appetizing luncheon Jane had -spread for us worked wonders. I remember -especially a bowl of curds, or smear-case, seasoned -to a marvel and with a dash of cream on top, which -seemed to me the most perfect food I had ever -eaten. I came afterwards to know better the perfections -of Jane’s cookery, but nothing she ever -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>made could eclipse the memory of that bowl of -white-and-yellow toothsomeness.</p> - -<p>Ten minutes after sitting down, I was myself -again; I felt that my brain had returned to its -normal condition, and I was fairly aching to begin -working on the problem which confronted us, and -which I, at least, was determined to solve with the -least possible delay.</p> - -<p>“You have that slip of paper with the verse, -haven’t you, mother?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear,” and she drew it from her purse, -where she had placed it carefully, and handed it to -me.</p> - -<p>Dick got up and came to my side, to read the -lines over my shoulder.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“The Rose of Sharon guards the place</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Where the Treasure lies; so you must trace</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Four to the right, diagonally three,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And you have solved the Mystery.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“What nonsense!” he said, in disgust. “You -don’t expect to solve any such riddle as that, do -you, Biffkins?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do,” I cried, and read the lines over -again.</p> - -<p>“Well, if you do, you’ll surprise me,” said Dick.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span></p> - -<p>“I know one thing,” I flashed out, “it won’t -be solved without trying.”</p> - -<p>“Do you really think there’s an answer to it?” -queried Dick.</p> - -<p>“Of course there is,” I asserted confidently. -“Grandaunt wouldn’t have written this unless it -meant something.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” said Dick, doubtfully. “The -reasoning doesn’t quite hold water. Lots of -people write things that don’t mean anything.”</p> - -<p>“Well, the meaning of this is obvious enough,” -I retorted. “Mother, what is a rose of Sharon? -Isn’t it a flower?”</p> - -<p>“Why, bless the child!” exclaimed mother, -setting down her cup with a little bang, “of course -it is! It’s a shrub—a hardy shrub that grows -quite tall, sometimes. Many people call it the -althea.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s the first step,” I cried triumphantly. -“And now the second—”</p> - -<p>“The second,” echoed Dick, as I hesitated. -“Well, go ahead, Biffkins; what’s the second?”</p> - -<p>“The second is to find the bush,” I said.</p> - -<p>“And the third?”</p> - -<p>“To find the treasure, goose!”</p> - -<p>“It <i>sounds</i> easy, doesn’t it?” Dick commented, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>his head on one side. “We find the bush and then -we find the treasure, and then we live happy ever -afterwards.”</p> - -<p>“I think it more important to find first where -we’re going to sleep,” said mother. “Then, our -bags are still at the station, and we’ll have to have -them.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll go after them,” said Dick, picking up his -hat. “I dare say there’s a horse and buggy attached -to this place.”</p> - -<p>“And I’ll ask Jane about the beds,” said mother, -rising.</p> - -<p>“And I’ll go treasure-hunting,” said I, pausing -only long enough to snatch up my hat.</p> - -<p>“Well, good luck, Biffkins,” Dick called after -me, and started back toward the barn, leaving me -alone at the front door, intent on the problem.</p> - -<p>The first thing to do, I felt, was to make a survey -of the house and grounds, and this I found to be -no little task. Indeed, I soon became so absorbed -in their beauty that I nearly forgot the puzzle I -had set myself to solve. Let me describe the place -as well as I can, and you will not wonder that, as -the days went on, the prospect of losing it should -become more and more dreadful to me.</p> - -<p>The house was of red brick, square, in a style -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>which I have since been told is Georgian. In the -middle front was a portico, stone-floored, with four -white columns supporting its roof, and with an -iron railing curving along either side of its wide -stone steps, five in number. The front door was -heavily panelled, and bore a great brass knocker. -A wide hall ran through the centre of the house, -with the rooms opening from it on either side—large, -square rooms, with lofty ceilings, and heated -either by means of wide fire-places or Franklin -stoves. But of the interior of the house I shall -speak again—it was the exterior which first -claimed my attention.</p> - -<p>It stood well back from the road, in a grove of -stately elms, which must have been planted at the -time the house was built, nearly three quarters of a -century before. A beautiful lawn, flanked by -hedges of hardy shrubs, sloped down to the road, -and to the right of the house, surrounded by a close-clipped -hedge of box, was a flower garden laid out -in a queer, formal fashion which I had never seen -before. It looked desolate and neglected, but -here and there the compelling sun of spring had -brought out a tinge of green. Beyond the garden -was a high brick wall, covered with vines, shutting -us off from the view of our neighbours.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></p> - -<p>Back of the house was the kitchen garden, -nearly an acre in extent, and surrounded by rows -of raspberry and currant bushes. Along one side -of it was a double grape-arbour, separating it from -the orchard. Cherries and peaches were putting on -their bridal robes of white and pink, and as I -passed beneath their branches, drinking deep -draughts of the fragrant air, I could hear the bees, -just awakened from their winter sleep, busy -among the petals. Near a sheltering wind-break, -I caught the outline of a group of stables and -other out-buildings, behind which stretched rolling -fields, some green with winter wheat, some -stubbly from last year’s corn, some brown and -fallow, ready for the plow. A respect for grandaunt, -which I had never had before, began to rise -within me. Surely the owner of such a place as -this could not be without her good qualities. To -administer it must have taken thought and care, -and simply to live in it must be, in a way, softening -and uplifting. If Fate would only will that I -might always live in it——</p> - -<p>I heard the rattle of wheels on the road from -the stables, and there was Dick, setting forth -proudly on his trip to the station. He waved his -cap to me, chirruped to the horse, with whom he -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>seemed to be already on the friendliest of terms, -and passed from sight around the house, while I -turned again to the inspection of the premises. -At the end of half an hour, I was fairly breathless -with excitement; to be mistress of this splendid -estate, this wide domain! what a thought! How -could life ever lose its interest here, or days pass -slowly!</p> - -<p>“It isn’t ours,” I said aloud, suddenly chilled -by the thought. “It isn’t ours. But I will make -it ours!” And I shut my teeth tight together, and -turned towards the flower-garden. No more -idling or day-dreaming! Every minute must be -spent in the search for the treasure—the “stocks, -bonds, and other securities,” as the will described -them, which grandaunt had concealed somewhere -about the place—a hiding-place to which the -only clue was the rose of Sharon!</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_V">Chapter V<br /> -<span class="smaller">I Begin the Search</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> sun was nearly down, and the long shadows -from the trees cut the lawn into alternate aisles of -light and shade. The afternoon was almost gone, -and I saw that I had no time to lose. Since the -first object of my search was a rose of Sharon, it -was evident that it must begin in the garden and -I made my way into it through an opening in the -hedge. The hedge was very close and thick, though -spraggly and badly kept, and must have been -planted many years before. The garden, as I have -said, was a desolate place enough, but not without -evidences of ancient beauty. Just inside the hedge -was a perfect tangle of dead flower-stocks of -hollyhocks with the fresh new plants springing at -their base, of phlox and pinks and candytuft. -Inside this, and around the whole garden ran a -broad path, grass-grown and sadly in need of repair, -while two narrower paths extended at right -angles across the garden, meeting at a large -depressed circle in the centre, which had once -evidently been the basin of a fountain. But no -fountain had played there for many years, and the -basin was overgrown with weeds. At the corners -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>against the hedge were masses of shrubbery, and -the wall at the farther side was overgrown with -ivy.</p> - -<p>I realized that I needed a guide in this wilderness, -and set out in search of Abner, whom I -finally found in the kitchen garden, busily engaged -in digging up some horse-radish. He heard me -coming, and stood up, leaning on his spade, as I -drew near.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Mr. Smith,” I began, “is there a rose of -Sharon anywhere about the place?”</p> - -<p>“A rose o’ Sharon? Why, yes, miss; bless your -heart, they’s a dozen o’ them, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“A dozen!” Here was a complication, indeed! -“But isn’t there some particular one,” I persisted, -“which is larger than all the rest, or which is -peculiarly situated, or which grandaunt was particularly -fond of, or something of that sort?”</p> - -<p>He scratched his head in perplexity, while I -watched him in a very agony of excitement and -suspense.</p> - -<p>“Well, miss,” he answered slowly, at last, -“they is one th’ missus used t’ think a good deal -of, though lately she didn’t take much interest in -anything about th’ place—just let it run along -anyhow. It’s about the biggest one we’ve got, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span>an’ it’s set in a kind o’ rockery over there in the -garding near the wall. Mebbe that’s the one -you mean.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe it is,” I said, controlling myself as -well as I could, for my heart leaped at his words. -“Will you show it to me, Mr. Smith?”</p> - -<p>“Why, of course,” he said good-naturedly. -“An’, miss, my name’s Abner, an’ I like t’ be -called by it,” and shouldering his spade, he hobbled -away toward the garden. I could have flown, but -I managed somehow to accommodate my pace to -his.</p> - -<p>Near the wall which bounded the garden on -that side, a somewhat elaborate rockery had been -laid out years before, with stones of different -colours carefully arranged in rows, after a fashion -once thought beautiful. Vines were running over -them, myrtle principally, and shrubs of various -kinds were growing among them; some had been -misplaced and others buried in the ground; the -whole forming a kind of tangle which proved that -however much grandaunt had once thought of the -spot, Abner was right in saying that she had completely -neglected it in recent years.</p> - -<p>“Y’ see,” explained Abner, apologetically, reading -my thought, perhaps, “we was both a gittin’ -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span>old, miss; an’ they’s a mighty lot o’ work t’ do -around a place like this. They was a lot thet had -t’ be done—thet th’ missus allers made it a point -t’ see was done—so this here rockery—an’ the -hull garding fer thet matter—had t’ look out fer -itself. We hadn’t no time fer flub-dubs.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I interrupted, “but which is the rose of -Sharon?”</p> - -<p>“This here is th’ rose o’ Sharon, miss,” and he -pointed with his spade to a tall shrub in the middle -of the rockery, upon which the spring had not yet -succeeded in coaxing forth any hint of green. The -old, brown seed-pods of the year before still clung -to it, and, on the whole, it did not look very promising -of beauty.</p> - -<p>“Now I must go, miss,” added my companion. -“Jane’s waitin’ fer thet horse-radish, an’ I’ve got -t’ help with th’ milkin’.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” I said; “only leave me your -spade, please. Perhaps I can straighten things -out here a little.”</p> - -<p>“I doubt it, miss,” he said; “them vines need -a good, sharp pair of clippers more’n anything, an’ -a man behind ’em thet ain’t afeard t’ use ’em.” -But he leaned his spade against the wall and -shuffled away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span></p> - -<p>Close against the wall, a rustic seat had been -built in some bygone year, and although it had -crumbled somewhat and come apart in places -under wind and weather, it would still bear my -weight, as I found upon cautiously testing it. So -I sat down to think out my plan of action. The -lengthening shadows warned me that I had no -time to lose; but I believed that I had my finger -on the key of the puzzle, and I was determined to -test my theory at once.</p> - -<p>The spot had evidently at one time been a -favourite resort of somebody; and grandaunt had -lived here so long that it must have been she who -had the rustic seat built and arranged the rockery. -I could fancy her sitting here in the cool afternoons, -when she was younger, knitting placidly, perhaps, -or working some piece of embroidery. Perhaps -it was here, where she was first married—but my -imagination was not equal to the flight. Grandaunt -a bride! The idea seemed to me preposterous—which -only shows how young and thoughtless -I was, for grandaunt, of course, had, once upon a -time, been a girl like any other, with a girl’s heart -and a girl’s hopes.</p> - -<p>I know now more of her life than I knew then. -She was married when quite young to a man much -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span>older than herself, who brought her to this house, -and shut himself up with her there; a crabbed and -high-tempered man, who set his stamp upon her -and moulded her to his fashion. He had died -many years before, but grandaunt had gone on -living as she had lived, so compelling is the force -of habit! And if she came to regard all the world -with suspicion, and to fall into queer prejudices -and beliefs, why, she was not so much to blame, -after all!</p> - -<p>But, for whatever cause, it was evident that -grandaunt had at one time been fond of the garden, -with its fountain and rockery and rustic seat. They -offered her a distraction and relief from the sordidness -of her life—a distraction which she came to -need less and less, as she grew accustomed to it. -Just at first, no doubt, she had often come here; -the spot had once held a prominent place in her -affections; and it was to it that her thoughts turned -when she had been seeking a hiding-place for the -treasure. But just where had she chosen to conceal -it?</p> - -<p>As I have said, a large number of stones were -arranged symmetrically about the foot of the rose -of Sharon. According to the doggerel grandaunt -had left us, I must count four to the right and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span>three diagonally, and the treasure would be ours. -What could she have meant, unless she was referring -to these very stones? Flushed with excitement -at the thought, I looked at them more carefully. -Four to the right, diagonally three—but -from which direction must I face the shrub in -determining which was right and which left?</p> - -<p>I decided at last that the most sensible solution -of this question was to face the shrub from the -main path, which led to it across the garden, just -as anyone would face it who approached it from -the direction of the house. I did so, and then, -dropping to my knees, tore away the tangle of -vines, cleared away the accumulated refuse, and -counted four stones to the right.</p> - -<p>Here, again, there was a choice of diagonals—the -correct one might be any one of several. I -chose one at random and raised the third stone -with hands not wholly steady. Then I leaned -forward and peered into the hole. The earth from -which I had lifted the stone seemed hard and undisturbed. -I counted three diagonally in another -direction, and lifted another stone, with the same -result. Again I counted three diagonally, raised -the stone, and found myself peering into a shallow -hole with hard dirt at the bottom.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span></p> - -<p>I brought the spade and dug down, as well as I -could, in the places from which I had removed -the stones; but after a few moments, it was evident, -even to me, that the earth had not been disturbed -for many years, and that there could not -by any possibility be a treasure of any kind buried -beneath it.</p> - -<p>But I did not even yet despair. It might very well -be that grandaunt had approached the rockery from -the kitchen garden, in which case I must count -in the other direction. I did so, and at the second -venture my heart bounded into my throat, for the -stone I hit upon was loose in its place, and the dirt -beneath it soft and yielding. With hands trembling -so that I could scarcely hold the spade, I began to -throw the loose dirt out from the hole. I found -it was not large enough to work in to advantage, -and removed the adjoining stones. The earth -under all of them seemed loose, and I worked -feverishly, expecting every instant that the spade -would strike a metal box or receptacle of some -sort, in which the securities had been placed. -For a few inches, it was easy digging; then the -earth became hard again. But suddenly the spade -did hit something that rang sharply against it. I -cleared away the earth quickly, and found that I -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>had struck—a rock! It was a large one, as I -soon discovered by trying to get around it. And -then I saw what I had not perceived before—little -tunnels running away under the stones on -either side, and I knew that the earth had been -loosened, not by Grandaunt Nelson, but by a -mole!</p> - -<p>It was a heavy blow. I had been so confident -that I had solved the mystery; it had seemed so -certain from the very situation of the rose of -Sharon that it marked the treasure’s hiding-place; -I had even fancied myself running to the house with -the precious package in my hands, bursting in -upon mother with the great news, lying in wait -for Dick—and now—now—</p> - -<p>Despite myself, the tears would come. I let the -spade fall and sat down again upon the seat, and -sobbed for very disappointment. Ah, what a -triumph it would have been to be able, the very -first day, to discomfit that horrid Silas Tunstall -by finding the treasure and setting at rest, at once -and for all time, the question of the ownership of -this beautiful place!</p> - -<p>“Oh, I say,” exclaimed a low voice just over -my head, “you mustn’t do that, you know! Can’t -I help you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span></p> - -<p>I jumped up with a little cry, for the voice was -so near it frightened me. There, sitting on the -wall just above me, was a boy. He had his cap in -his hand, and I saw that his hair was brown and -very curly.</p> - -<p>“I’d like to help you,” he repeated earnestly; -“that is, if you’ll let me.”</p> - -<p>He waved his cap to me with a half-timid, -friendly, reassuring gesture.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” I said, turning red with shame at the -thought that I had been caught crying. “Oh, I -must go!”</p> - -<p>“No, don’t go,” he protested. “If you’re going -because I’m here, I’ll go myself.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no; it’s not at all on your account,” I -explained politely. “But it must be very nearly -dinner-time,” and I glanced at the brilliant afterglow -which transfigured the western heavens.</p> - -<p>Then I glanced at him. He was distinctly a -nice-looking boy, and after the surprise of the -first moment, I felt no very great desire to go -away.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t late,” he reassured me. “It can’t -be dinner-time, yet. May I come down?”</p> - -<p>I eyed him doubtfully. He seemed rather a self-assured -boy, and I wondered what Dick would -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span>think of him. I wondered if he thought me a -molly-coddle because he had seen me crying. I -shared all Dick’s horror of girls or boys who cry. -Then I wondered if my eyes were very red, and -wiped them with my handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“The wall,” I ventured, “was probably put -there to keep people out.”</p> - -<p>“Not to keep one’s friends out,” he protested. -“One ought to be glad if one’s friends are willing -to climb over such a high wall to see one.”</p> - -<p>He was smiling in the pleasantest way, and I -really couldn’t help smiling back.</p> - -<p>“But one’s friends can come in at the gate,” I -pointed out, quickly suppressing the smile, “so -there is no reason why they should climb the wall. -No one likes one’s friends to do unnecessary -things.”</p> - -<p>“How about the lady who dropped her glove -over the barrier among the lions?” he inquired.</p> - -<p>“She was a minx,” I answered warmly.</p> - -<p>“And the fellow who jumped after it?”</p> - -<p>“He was a fool!”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” he said, with bright eyes.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you know I didn’t mean that,” I cried. -“I should be very glad to have you come down, -but I really must go.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span></p> - -<p>“But it isn’t dinner-time yet.”</p> - -<p>“I know it isn’t,” I hastened to explain, anxious -not to hurt his feelings again. “But you see -we’re going out to dinner this evening, and it will -take a little time to get ready, and of course I -don’t want to be late. Mother wouldn’t like -it.”</p> - -<p>“But what were you digging there for?” he -persisted, looking at the little piles of dirt I had -thrown up. “It seems a queer place to be digging. -Looking for fishing-worms?”</p> - -<p>“No,” I said. “I—I was just digging.”</p> - -<p>“Are you going to dig any more?”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps.”</p> - -<p>“Then you must let me help you,” he said. -“I’m first-rate at digging.”</p> - -<p>“Are you? Well, perhaps I shall. But, -you see, I’ll have to know you a little better -first.”</p> - -<p>“May I introduce myself?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no; I’ll ask Mr. Chester about you—”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Chester?” he interrupted quickly.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Is that where you’re going to dinner?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—why?”</p> - -<p>He burst into a sudden shout of laughter and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span>waved his cap around his head. I thought for -an instant, with a sudden leap of the heart, that he -was going to lose his balance and fall; but he -caught a branch above his head and saved himself.</p> - -<p>“I think I’ll come down,” he said, when he had -regained his breath; and he calmly jumped down -on our side of the wall. Then he looked at me, -grinning broadly. “Please don’t believe all Mr. -Chester tells you about me,” he said. “He’s prejudiced.”</p> - -<p>“I certainly shall believe what he tells me,” I -retorted.</p> - -<p>“All the same, I’m glad you’re going to dinner -there to-night,” he added, grinning still more -broadly.</p> - -<p>“Why?” I demanded.</p> - -<p>“No matter,” he said. “No matter,” and he -looked at me, still laughing.</p> - -<p>I felt my cheeks burning, for I could never bear -to be laughed at, especially by a boy. Boys are -so dense.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” I said, and turning on my heel, I -marched away, head in air.</p> - -<p>But I could hear him laughing till I got clear -across the garden to the opposite hedge. I thought -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>it very rude. Perhaps if he had not kept on laughing, -I might have stopped before I got so far away. -At last, when I stole a glance over my shoulder -toward the wall, he was gone.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_VI">Chapter VI<br /> -<span class="smaller">I Find an Ally</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">As</span> I ran around the corner of the house, I saw -mother standing at the front door.</p> - -<p>“Why, Cecil,” she said, reproachfully, as I -sprang up the steps, “where have you been all -this time?”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t so late, is it, mother?”</p> - -<p>“It’s very late, and I’ve been looking for you -everywhere. Why, look at your hands!” she -cried, as she saw me more clearly. “And your -frock! Where have you been, Cecil?”</p> - -<p>“I was out in the garden, mother,” I answered, -suddenly conscious that my hands were very dirty, -and that great green splotches on my skirt showed -where I had been kneeling on the moss which -covered the rockery.</p> - -<p>“In the garden?” she repeated. “What on -earth—”</p> - -<p>“Looking for the treasure, weren’t you, Biffkins?” -called Dick’s voice mockingly from the -darkness of the hall.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I was,” I snapped. Really it was provoking -that Dick should take the matter so lightly.</p> - -<p>“Well, better luck next time, Biffkins,” he -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>went on, coming to the door, and looking me up -and down with a broad grin. “Why, she’s been -digging!” he cried. “I’ll bet anything she’s got a -blister!”</p> - -<p>Tears of mortification sprang into my eyes; for -I <i>did</i> have a blister and it hurt, though I wouldn’t -have acknowledged it for the world! Why can’t -girls work as boys can?</p> - -<p>“But never mind, Biffkins,” added Dick. -“Don’t get discouraged. Just wait till I set my -massive brain to work at it—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s all that’s necessary!” I retorted, -with cutting irony. Really this puzzle was beginning -to get on my nerves a little; I wondered that -Dick could jest about it when it meant so much to -all of us. It showed a heartlessness that I had -never suspected in him—an indifference to his -family which was really shocking.</p> - -<p>I started to say so, but mother cut short the discussion -by chasing me before her into the house -and up-stairs to her bed-room—a high-ceilinged, -deliciously-roomy one, with a great four-poster in -one corner, to which one mounted by a little -flight of carpet-covered steps. I would have -stopped to admire it—for if there is one thing more -than any other for which I have a passion, it is old -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>furniture—but mother, lighting a lamp which -stood on the dresser—another old-fashioned piece, -the golden glow of whose mahogany warmed my -heart—bade me sternly to set to work upon my -toilet.</p> - -<p>“But, oh, mother, what a delightful room!” -I cried, struggling with my buttons. “Was it -grandaunt’s?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said mother, “Aunt Nelson’s bed-room -was at the front of the house overlooking the drive. -I think it better to leave it undisturbed for the -present.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” I agreed, for I knew what mother -meant. “But whose room was this?”</p> - -<p>“This, Jane says, was the spare room. It -hadn’t been opened for months apparently, and -smelt dreadfully close; but I dare say we shall do -very well. There’s another for Dick just like it -across the hall.”</p> - -<p>I remembered grandaunt’s aversion to sunlight -and fresh air, and did not wonder that the rooms -had seemed stuffy. However, the sweet, cool air, -blowing through the trees had already banished -all that.</p> - -<p>“Is Dick’s room furnished like this?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, very much the same.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span></p> - -<p>“I must see it the first thing in the morning. -And, mother,” I went on, in growing excitement, -“did you ever see such a lovely old grandfather’s -clock as the one in the lower hall—and just look -at that old wardrobe, with its—”</p> - -<p>“Now, Cecil,” interrupted mother, sternly, “I -want you to get that hair of yours in order—and -here’s your clean frock. I do hope you’re not -going to be so thoughtless and impolite as to make -us late for Mr. Chester’s dinner!”</p> - -<p>“No, mother,” I promised obediently, “I’ll -hurry;” but it was just as well she stayed with me -to hold me to this duty, for there were so many -delightful things in the room that, with the best -intentions in the world, I should inevitably have -been late without her. It is very difficult to comb -one’s hair and at the same time admire the carving -on the mirror before which you are doing it—and -such carving it was, so graceful and expressive and -right! As it was, we had just reached the lower -hall again, and mother was dragging me past the -grandfather’s clock, when the knocker sounded -against the door and reverberated through the -hall in a quite startling manner; and there on the -step was Mr. Chester, shaking hands with Dick, -who had no passion for old furniture, and whose -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span>toilet, besides, was much simpler than mine—one -of a boy’s great advantages which I have often -envied.</p> - -<p>“It’s such a delightful night that I didn’t bring -the carriage,” said Mr. Chester, shaking hands -with each of us in turn. “And it is really only -a step.”</p> - -<p>“It would have been sacrilege to ride,” agreed -mother, as we went down the steps together, and -indeed the evening was deliciously soft and warm, -with the fragrance of spring in the air.</p> - -<p>“Do you know,” he added, “I never thought -of your baggage until—”</p> - -<p>“We sent Dick after it,” interrupted mother, -quickly. “We certainly didn’t expect you to -bother with it—you’ve been so kind already. He -was only too eager to go—it was quite an adventure -for him to drive over to the station.”</p> - -<p>“Though Susan seems to be a horse with a -past rather than a future,” supplemented Dick; -whereat we all laughed.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Chester, “I’ve seen her trotting -meditatively along many a time. I dare say her -past is a blameless and useful one—well worth -meditating upon.”</p> - -<p>The night seemed to grow more beautiful every -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span>minute, and just as we turned out of the grounds -into the road, the big yellow moon sailed slowly -up over the eastern horizon, sending long streamers -of golden light through the naked branches of the -elms. I turned for a last look at the house, where -it loomed soft and dim through the vista of trees -leading up to it: I could see the white door, the -grey steps, flanked by graceful pillars. What a -home it was! And I sighed again as I realized -that it was not really ours, and perhaps might -never be.</p> - -<p>I have wondered since at my instant affection -for it, which grew and grew in warmth until it -amounted to positive adoration. I have entered -many houses before and since, many of them more -beautiful than this, but not one of them so moved -and won my soul’s soul as did that square old -mansion. And I have often thought that perhaps -for some of us there is on earth a predestined -dwelling-place, which we somehow recognize and -long for, and apart from which we are unhappy. -Unhappy—it is worse than that—the ceaseless, -miserable yearning! How well I know!</p> - -<p>As I looked back that evening, something of this -feeling came to me, as though I were leaving something -infinitely dear and precious. It was only by -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span>a positive effort that I kept on with the others, -down the path and through the gate and along the -road. We had not far to go, for a short walk soon -brought us to another gate, through which we -turned along a broad path, which led to an open -doorway beaming with cheerful welcome. At the -sound of our footsteps, a woman and a boy appeared -against the light in the hall, and came down -the steps to meet us.</p> - -<p>“My dear,” said Mr. Chester, “this is Mrs. -Truman—my wife, Mrs. Truman—and these -are Cecil and Dick. Come here, Tom, and meet -your new neighbours,” he added to the boy.</p> - -<p>As the boy turned so that the light fell on his -face, I gave a little gasp of astonishment, and he -tried in vain to suppress the snigger that burst -from him.</p> - -<p>“This is my son,” went on Mr. Chester, and -then stopped as he saw my suffused face and his -son’s distorted countenance. “Tom, you rascal,” -he cried, “what mischief have you been up to -now?”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t any mischief, sir,” I hastened to -explain. “Only—only—I was in the garden, -and he was on the wall, and he wanted to come -down on our side.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p> - -<p>“And she said I shouldn’t till she’d found out -more about me!” cried Tom. “She said she’d -ask you, sir.”</p> - -<p>“And very wise of her,” nodded his father. -“I’m afraid I can’t give a very good account of -you, sir.”</p> - -<p>“I warned her that you were prejudiced, sir,” -cried Tom.</p> - -<p>“But he came down on our side without waiting -for permission,” I added.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” said Mr. Chester, laughing. -“That was quite in character. You must put him -on probation, Cecil. He’s the biggest mischief in -three counties. He seems to possess an inborn -facility for getting into scrapes.”</p> - -<p>“And for getting out of them,” added Mrs. -Chester. “Let us do him that justice.”</p> - -<p>Laughing together, we went into the house, and -a few moments later were at the table. Such a -pretty room it was, and such pleasant people! My -heart warmed to them instantly, for it was plain to -see that they were wholesome and genuine. For -a time, the talk drifted from topic to topic, but it -was inevitable that it should at last turn toward -the will.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I do hope that you will be able to keep the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>place!” burst out Mrs. Chester, impulsively. “It -would be such a relief to have companionable -neighbours after—after—”</p> - -<p>She did not finish the sentence, but we could all -guess what she meant.</p> - -<p>“Besides,” she added, “it would be too terrible -to have it fall into the hands of that horrible -Tunstall. Why, I should be afraid to go out of the -house after dark!”</p> - -<p>“What is the ‘philosophy of which he is such a -distinguished disciple?’” I asked, quoting the -will.</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester laughed shortly, and then grew -suddenly grave.</p> - -<p>“Spiritualism,” he answered. “Not the real -thing, of course, in which there may be some basis -of truth, for all I know; but a kind of insincere -hocus-pocus designed to catch the ignorant. I -beg your pardon,” he added quickly. “I must -not forget that Mrs. Nelson was a relative of yours.”</p> - -<p>“She was my mother’s sister,” answered mother, -quietly, “but I knew her very slightly. I saw her -only three or four times in my life. I know she -had queer ideas—that is, indeed, about all I do -know about her. Pray speak as frankly as you -like.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span></p> - -<p>“Of course,” went on Mr. Chester, “I have -no personal knowledge of what went on over -there, but I’ve heard weird tales of his doings in -other quarters. He came here over a year ago—nobody -knows from where. He lives in a little -cottage some distance down the road, and is said -to have many visitors, especially at night, though -that may be mere gossip. The only other occupant -of the place is an old woman who acts as housekeeper -and general factotum. The house stands -so far back from the road and is so surrounded by -shrubbery that no one can see what goes on there. -It belonged to an eccentric old bachelor, who -lived alone there and who surrounded it with a -grove of evergreens to keep the world away, I -suppose. There are all sorts of stories told -about it, but most of them are pure fictions.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Tunstall seems to be quite a character,” -commented mother.</p> - -<p>“He is,” agreed Mr. Chester; “but aside from -his disagreeable personality, there is really nothing -against him, except that he seems to have no -adequate means of support. I believe that the -stories about his nocturnal visitors are largely -myths, and as far as his other practise is concerned, -it can’t be very lucrative. I’ve never heard that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span>he ever attempted to obtain money illegally, and -I think it’s as much because he has no visible means -of livelihood as from any other cause that people -distrust him. Mrs. Nelson’s case is the first in -which I’ve had reason to suspect he used undue -influence—and that’s only a suspicion. In fact,” -he added, reflectively, “now that I try to formulate -some charge against him, I find there isn’t anything -to get hold of.”</p> - -<p>“There’s such a thing as circumstantial evidence,” -remarked Mrs. Chester; “and one’s -instincts go for something.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” rejoined her husband, thoughtfully; -“I don’t altogether trust what you call instinct. -I’ve seen it go wrong too often. I’ve -always fancied that Tunstall is a much cleverer -man than he appears to be—too clever by half to -be wasting his time the way he seems to be doing. -He’s absent a good deal—drives away in his -buggy—yes, he keeps a horse—and doesn’t -come back for days and days. Where he goes -nobody knows.”</p> - -<p>“I declare, dear,” said Mrs. Chester, laughing, -“you’re growing quite poetic over Mr. Tunstall. -But for all that, I still contend it would be a real -affliction to have him for a neighbour.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” agreed Mr. Chester; “he’s not an -engaging person, I grant you that; and I should -be very sorry indeed to have him move in next -door; more especially,” he added, looking at us, -“since that would mean that our present neighbours -must move out. We want you to keep the -place.”</p> - -<p>“We should like to keep it, too, of course,” -said mother, smiling a little wistfully, “but I’m -afraid that Aunt Nelson has set us a problem we -shall never be able to solve.”</p> - -<p>“Biffkins has already had one try at it, though,” -put in Dick, slyly.</p> - -<p>“Biffkins?” repeated Tom, quickly. “Who’s -that?”</p> - -<p>Dick indicated me with a little gesture.</p> - -<p>“Cecil didn’t seem quite to describe her,” he -explained, smiling broadly.</p> - -<p>“I think Biffkins a bully name,” said Tom. -“Ho!” he added, suddenly, looking at me with -quick interest, “was that what you were digging -in the garden for?”</p> - -<p>“Of course it was,” laughed Dick. “I told -her I’d bet she had a blister.”</p> - -<p>“Well, maybe she has,” retorted Tom, quickly. -“I dare say I’d have one too, if I’d dug up as much -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span>dirt as she did. Why, when I looked over the -wall—”</p> - -<p>A sudden wave of crimson swept over my face -and I glanced at Tom appealingly. Only too distinctly -did I remember what I was doing when he -looked over the wall!</p> - -<p>“She was digging away like mad,” he went on -calmly; “you should have seen her!”</p> - -<p>I shot him a grateful glance. How many boys -would have been so generous?</p> - -<p>“And he offered to help,” I said. “If it hadn’t -been so late—”</p> - -<p>“But you’ll let me help next time?” he -questioned eagerly. “You must, you know. I’m -a good digger, anyway; and I’ve got a pretty good -head for puzzles.”</p> - -<p>“Tom!” cried his mother.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I should love to have him help!” I -burst out. “I’m sure he would be a very great -help!”</p> - -<p>“Done!” cried Tom. “Shake hands on it!” -and he danced around the table and caught my -hand in his.</p> - -<p>And as I looked into his honest brown eyes I -knew that I had found an ally.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_VII">Chapter VII<br /> -<span class="smaller">Varieties of the Rose of Sharon</span></h2></div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">I think</span> we should all like to say just what Tom -has said,” remarked Mr. Chester, after a moment. -“We should all like to help, if we could.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you all can!” I cried, impulsively. -“I’m sure you can help a great deal.”</p> - -<p>“How?” asked Mr. Chester, quietly, but with -an earnestness there was no mistaking.</p> - -<p>“I’m sure you could help us to work out that -riddle that grandaunt left us,” I said. “You -know that is the only clue we have.”</p> - -<p>“You forget that I haven’t seen the riddle,” he -remarked. “What was it?”</p> - -<p>“It’s just a verse,” I said, “and rather a silly -verse, too. Here it is,” and I repeated the lines -slowly, while the Chesters listened in astonishment. -Tom’s eyes were gleaming with interest and -excitement.</p> - -<p>“Let’s see; how is it?” he asked. “Say it -again, won’t you?”</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“‘The Rose of Sharon guards the place</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Where the Treasure lies; so you must trace</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Four to the right, diagonally three,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And you have solved the Mystery.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p> - -<p>I repeated the lines slowly, and he soon had -them. They were easy to remember, and, once -learned, ran in one’s head like Mark Twain’s -famous,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Punch, brothers, punch; punch with care;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Punch in the presence of the passenjaire.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>There was a little pause, and I could see that -they were repeating the lines over to themselves, -and trying to get some meaning out of them.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Mrs. Chester, at last, “that is a -problem!”</p> - -<p>“I dare say this man Tunstall had a hand in -devising it,” observed her husband. “He affects -a kind of cryptic utterance, sometimes—it’s one -of the tricks of the business. He had acquired considerable -influence over your aunt, Mrs. Truman—not -enough, evidently, to persuade her to cut -you off entirely, but still enough to make your -inheritance hang upon this slender thread—and -it is a slender one.”</p> - -<p>“Can you tell us anything more about him?” -asked mother. “I scarcely looked at him to-day—I -didn’t realize at the time how deeply he was -concerned in all this.”</p> - -<p>“<i>I</i> did,” I said; “or, rather, he looked at me, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>and it sent a creepy feeling all up and down my -back. He has the sharpest eyes!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed Mr. Chester, “they’re part of -his stock in trade. I’ve imagined, sometimes, that -they were a kind of hypnotic eye, which might -affect a nervous or weak-minded person very -deeply.”</p> - -<p>“They evidently affected Aunt Nelson,” said -mother. “Please tell us all you can, Mr. Chester. -The more we know of the facts in the case, the -better chance we shall have of solving this perplexing -puzzle.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true,” assented Mr. Chester, slowly. -“It is only right that you should know; and yet -I can tell you very little more than I’ve already -told. I’ve said that Tunstall pretended to be a -sort of disciple of the occult. I’ve been told that he -calls himself a swami, whatever that may be, and -pretends to believe in the transmigration of souls, -in his power to recall the spirits of the dead, and I -don’t know what tomfoolery besides. No doubt -he’s a clever operator—he must be, or he couldn’t -stay in one locality as long as he has in this. And -he’s never been exposed, as most mediums are, -sooner or later. I doubt if he’d have remained -here as long as he has, but for the hold he got on -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span>Mrs. Nelson, and his hope of inheriting her -property.”</p> - -<p>“Did he have such a hold on her?” inquired -mother.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; I wouldn’t have believed he’d dare -go to the lengths he did if I hadn’t seen it with my -own eyes. I happened upon him one night—” -he paused hesitatingly, and looked at his wife, -“I don’t know whether I’d better tell the story,” -he added.</p> - -<p>“Yes, tell it,” said Mrs. Chester. “They have -the right to know.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then,” went on Mr. Chester, “I was -detained in the city very late one night some four -or five months ago, and it was after midnight when -I reached Fanwood. Mrs. Chester was not expecting -me, and there was no carriage at the station. -I knew she was in bed, and rather than disturb her, -I decided to walk over. It took me about an hour—it -was a bright moonlight night, I remember, -a good deal like this one, and I took my time. -When I turned in at our gate, I fancied I saw a -light in our stable, and I walked back to investigate, -but found it was only the reflection of the moonlight -on a window. I was coming back to the -house, by the path which runs along the wall, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>when I fancied I heard voices on the other side. I -stopped to listen, and sure enough, there were two -persons talking together on your aunt’s side. I -could not make out either voice clearly, one was so -low and broken, and the other so high and whining. -You can imagine how puzzled I was, and a little -frightened, too, I confess, for my first thought -was naturally of burglars. But I knew I couldn’t -go to bed and to sleep until I had found out what -was happening over there, so I went softly back to -the stable, got a short ladder, and placed it noiselessly -against the wall. Then I climbed up and -looked over.”</p> - -<p>We were all listening breathlessly; I, at least, -with a delicious creepy sensation at the roots of -my hair.</p> - -<p>“Well,” continued Mr. Chester, “I confess -that I was startled for a moment by what I saw—a -white and diaphanous-looking figure standing -before an old bench, on which there was a dark, -huddled shape, which I couldn’t make out clearly. -Indeed, I couldn’t make out anything very clearly, -for both figures were in the shadow of the -wall, and besides I had only a moment to look at -them, for I suppose I must have made some sound—an -exclamation of surprise, perhaps—for suddenly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> -the white figure vanished among the trees, -and the figure on the bench sprang to its feet and -I saw it was Mrs. Nelson.</p> - -<p>“‘What is it?’ she cried, and then she looked up -and saw my white face peering down at her.</p> - -<p>“I felt rather foolish, as one will when he is -caught eavesdropping, no matter how good his -motives may have been.</p> - -<p>“‘I beg your pardon,’ I said, ‘if I’m intruding; -but I happened to hear voices—’</p> - -<p>“She didn’t seem to understand very clearly, -but stared about her in a dazed way, and just then -who should come forward from among the trees -but Silas Tunstall. Then I understood. He had -been up to some of his mummeries, imposing upon -that old woman. He glared up at me for a moment; -but without saying a word, laid his hand upon Mrs. -Nelson’s arm and led her off toward the house. -I confess that it was with no very pleasant feeling -I looked after them. I thought it all over next day, -but I didn’t see how I could interfere. After all, -it was none of my business, and so I decided to do -nothing, and told no one of the incident except -my wife.”</p> - -<p>Then I recalled that half-forgotten adventure, -which I have already recorded—my starting to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>get a drink one night, and meeting grandaunt in -the hall. And for the first time, I understood her -terror. She believed in ghosts—and the little -white figure she had seen disappear into the gloomy -doorway had looked ghostly enough! Poor grandaunt! -How she had screamed! Mr. Tunstall had -no doubt found it easy enough to make a disciple -of her, since she was ready to come more than -half-way to meet him.</p> - -<p>“Horrible!” breathed mother at last. “Did -he—did he have any other victims?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. He is said to have a number of followers, -though I haven’t any idea who they are. -He gives seances, from time to time, I understand, -but only a very few are admitted to them, and then -only people of whom he is absolutely sure. You -understand this is mere rumour, Mrs. Truman; I -don’t know personally that it is true. But where -there’s so much smoke, there must surely be a -little fire.”</p> - -<p>“And he was with Aunt Nelson after that?” -asked mother.</p> - -<p>“Oh, a great deal. He was almost constantly at -her house, toward the last. We often saw him -coming or going. I think her mind failed a little, -though, of course, there would be no way of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>absolutely proving it. But I noticed many little -changes in her. It might be,” he added, “that -the will could be set aside.”</p> - -<p>But mother shook her head decidedly.</p> - -<p>“No,” she said; “if we can’t get the property -in the way she provided, we won’t get it at all. -She had a right to do as she pleased with it—we -had no claim upon her. We will never carry the -matter into the courts.”</p> - -<p>“That is right, Mrs. Truman,” cried Mrs. -Chester warmly. “I don’t believe in washing one’s -family linen in public. Besides, I’ve always had a -horror of the courts.”</p> - -<p>“And you a lawyer’s wife!” laughed her husband, -as we rose from table.</p> - -<p>“I don’t care,” retorted Mrs. Chester; “the -courts are incomprehensible to me. They’re -supposed to be established for the administration -of justice, and yet I’ve known them to be very unjust; -and even when it is justice they administer, -they seem to choose the very longest and most -tortuous way of doing it.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve always understood,” said mother, “that it -was the lawyers who led justice around by the nose -and made her appear such a sorry figure,” and -laughing, we passed on into the drawing-room.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span></p> - -<p>“I say,” whispered Tom, his eyes bright, to -Dick and me, “let’s go up to the library and see -if we can’t find out something more about the -rose of Sharon.”</p> - -<p>“Splendid!” I cried, and excusing ourselves, -we scampered away up the stairs.</p> - -<p>Tom went to work at once among the dictionaries -and encyclopedias in a business-like -way which impressed me immensely. The great -volumes seemed to possess no terrors nor mysteries -for him, but stood ready to yield up their secrets -to his touch. It reminded me of the cave of the -Forty Thieves—it was no trouble at all to get -in, if one just knew how.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” he pointed out, “the first thing -is to find out everything we can about the rose -of Sharon. That’s the keystone of the arch, as -it were. So we’ll begin there.”</p> - -<p>At the end of half an hour we had achieved the -following result:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>1.—Rose of Sharon—an ornamental malvaceous -shrub. In the Bible the name is used -for some flower not yet identified; perhaps a -narcissus, or possibly the great lotus flower.—<i>Webster’s -Dictionary.</i></p> - -<p>2.—Rose of Sharon—(a) in Scrip. Cant. II. 1, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span>the autumn crocus; (b) a St. John’s wort; (c) -same as althea.—<i>The Century Dictionary.</i></p> - -<p>3.—The Rose of Sharon—(a) a variety of -apple; (b) a variety of plum; (c) a kind of early -potato.</p></div> - -<p>“Well,” observed Dick, disgustedly, when we -had got this far, “the farther we go, the more we -seem to get tangled up! Even these dictionary -fellows don’t agree with each other.”</p> - -<p>“They seldom do,” said Tom, with a wisdom -born of experience. “All you can do, usually, -is to average up what they say and reach your -own conclusion. But wait a minute. Suppose -we look up the Bible verse ourselves.”</p> - -<p>“What is ‘Cant.’?” queried Dick. “I don’t -know any book of the Bible called that, or anything -like it.”</p> - -<p>“Neither do I,” agreed Tom, as he took down -his father’s Bible. “Let’s see,” and he ran rapidly -through the list of books at the front. “I -have it—‘Cant.’ is short for ‘Canto,’ which is -Latin for song.”</p> - -<p>“The Song of Solomon,” I ventured.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” said Tom, and he turned to it.</p> - -<p>I have since learned that our reasoning upon -this occasion was not so brilliant as I then thought -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span>it, and that “Cant.” is an abbreviation of “Canticles,” -the scholarly name for the Song of Songs. -However, we had guessed rightly, although our -logic was at fault, and we found the verse we were -looking for at the beginning of the second chapter: -“I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the -valleys.”</p> - -<p>Tom pored over it for a moment, then looked -up.</p> - -<p>“I believe I’ve found it!” he cried. “See, -four words to the right gives us ‘and the lily,’ -then over here in the next column, ‘by.’ Then -three diagonally, ‘my trees among.’ ‘And the -lily by my trees among’—that isn’t very good -English, but it means something, anyway. If -there is a lily among the trees—”</p> - -<p>“But,” I objected, “the words may not be -arranged the same way in grandaunt’s Bible.”</p> - -<p>“That’s so,” he assented, plunged into despondency -again. “We’ll have to look at her -Bible and see. In the meantime, there’s the apple-tree -and the plum. Perhaps the treasure is in a -cavity in one of them.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t forget the early potato,” laughed Dick. -“I see clearly that we’ll have to dig up the whole -place, chop down the orchard, and perhaps tear -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span>down the house, if we expect to follow up all these -clues. We’ve got a large job on hand.”</p> - -<p>There was nothing more to be discovered in the -library, so we put the books we had been consulting -back in their places and went down-stairs -to join our elders. We found them still talking -over the various aspects of the problem, and sat -down to listen.</p> - -<p>“The thing that puzzles me,” Mr. Chester -was saying, “is that Mrs. Nelson made no stipulation -in the will about Tunstall finding this -treasure. If <i>you</i> fail to find it, the property goes -to him; but there is no penalty if <i>he</i> fails to find it. -And suppose both of you fail to find it? What -then?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a sort of game of ‘we lose,’ whatever -happens,” broke in Tom.</p> - -<p>“The only explanation is,” added Mr. Chester, -“that Mrs. Nelson took it for granted that Tunstall -would have no difficulty in finding the treasure.”</p> - -<p>“With the aid of his Hindu gods, perhaps,” -Mrs. Chester suggested.</p> - -<p>“What is the ‘treasure,’ anyway, Mr. Chester?” -mother queried in a kind of desperation. “The -word makes one think of chests of gold and that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>sort of thing, but, I take it, that’s not what we’re -to look for.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. The will says the ‘treasure’—I -use the word because it is used in the key—consists -of ‘stocks, bonds, and other securities.’ -Mrs. Nelson never took me into her confidence, -so I can’t even guess at the amount.”</p> - -<p>“And what shape will they be in? What must -we look for?”</p> - -<p>“I think you will find them in a small steel -box such as is usually used for holding securities -of that kind. Tom, run up and bring down that -box off my desk. Of course I may be mistaken,” -he added, as Tom reappeared carrying a little -black metal box, “but I believe that some such -box as this is the object of your search.”</p> - -<p>We all stared at it for a moment, as though this -were the veritable box.</p> - -<p>“Then if we don’t find it,” asked mother, at -last, “and this Mr. Tunstall doesn’t find it, as -you suggested might possibly happen, the ‘treasure’ -will be lost?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, probably most of the securities could be -replaced upon proper proof of loss. But I don’t -believe there’s any danger of their being lost. -I believe Tunstall knows where they are, and that -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>he devised the puzzle, or, at least, suggested it. -The verse sounds very much like him.”</p> - -<p>For a moment, no one spoke; but I know I -grew pale at the thought of how completely we -were in that man’s power. I could see Tom grow -pale, too, and he stared across at me with eyes -almost starting from his head.</p> - -<p>“But,” faltered mother, at last, “if he knows -where they are, he may have removed them.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s possible,” assented Mr. Chester. -“But perhaps he’s so confident you’ll never find -them that’s he’s content to wait till the end of -the month, so that everything will be quite -straight and regular.”</p> - -<p>I felt as though my brain would burst in the -effort I made to look at this new possibility from -all sides.</p> - -<p>“Besides,” added Mr. Chester, “it wouldn’t -do him any good to steal them. Stocks and bonds -aren’t of much use to anyone unless they are -legally come by.”</p> - -<p>“But he might remove them,” said Dick, “to -prevent our finding them, and then put them -back.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, be sure of one thing,” cried Mrs. Chester. -“If he had any hand in hiding them he did it so -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>well that they won’t be found till he finds them -himself!”</p> - -<p>“I don’t believe he knows,” I burst out, at -last. “If he knew, he wouldn’t have read the -key when he picked it up after I let it fall. If he -knew what it was, he’d have handed it back to us -without looking at it.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester nodded.</p> - -<p>“You may be right,” he said. “That’s a good -point.”</p> - -<p>“But whether he knows or not,” I went on, -“the thing for us to do is to solve the puzzle. -He certainly hasn’t had a chance to remove the -‘treasure’ yet, and we must see that he doesn’t -get a chance. Where do you suppose grandaunt -would conceal her property, Mr. Chester?”</p> - -<p>“It seems to me,” answered Mr. Chester, -slowly, “that Mrs. Nelson would not bury the -papers, or conceal them anywhere outside the -house. Moisture works havoc with securities of -that kind, and to bury them would be the very -worst thing which could be done with them, even in -a box like this. Besides, she would naturally -want them where she could keep her eye on them, -and have ready access to them. Bonds usually -have coupons attached to them which have to be -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>detached and sent in for payment of interest. -Most people keep securities of that kind in a -safe-deposit box at a bank. I believe that you -will find them somewhere in the house—in a -place that was under Mrs. Nelson’s eyes constantly.”</p> - -<p>“But the rose of Sharon, sir,” I objected. -“That could scarcely be in the house.”</p> - -<p>“No,” he agreed slowly, “no; I confess that -puzzles me. Yet it seems most improbable that -Mrs. Nelson would do anything so foolish as to -bury her securities. She would be too anxious, -I imagine, to have them within reach, like a miser -with his gold. I am tempted to believe that the -‘rose of Sharon’ does not refer to a bush or a tree, -but to something else which we have not discovered -as yet. It might be a piece of furniture, -or a picture, or a plant—almost anything, in -fact. I would scrutinize everything in the house -carefully to see if the appellation, ‘rose of Sharon,’ -cannot be made to fit.”</p> - -<p>Dick groaned.</p> - -<p>“There’s no end to it,” he said, mournfully. -“It seems to me that ‘rose of Sharon’ can mean -about everything under the sun.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Mr. Chester, smiling, “I would -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>certainly look for it very carefully in the house; -though, of course, it will do no harm to continue -your search outdoors, too.”</p> - -<p>“I told Biffkins, a while ago,” observed Dick, -“that we should probably have to dig up the whole -place and tear down the house before we were -through. It seems to me the easiest way would -be to scare it—”</p> - -<p>But he stopped suddenly without completing -the sentence, and we were all too preoccupied -to notice.</p> - -<p>We fell silent pondering the problem, which -seemed to grow more perplexing the more we tried -to unravel it. I have had a clothes-line act in -just that way! But I saw what a help a trained -mind like Mr. Chester’s would be to us. And we -should need help—all we could get. Yet I had -always delighted in solving puzzles—the more -difficult the better—and I was determined to -solve this one, upon which so much depended. The -very fact that so much depended upon it, seemed -to make it more difficult. It was impossible to -approach it light-heartedly, not caring much -whether one succeeded or not; and the very -anxiety to succeed somehow beclouded the intellect.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p> - -<p>Mr. Chester smiled as he looked at my serious, -intent face.</p> - -<p>“Come, my dear,” he said, “don’t take it so -much to heart. Remember you have nearly a -month in which to work out the answer. A great -many things may happen in that time. Besides, -as you grow better acquainted with the place, -some natural solution of the puzzle may suggest -itself to you. You mustn’t be discouraged over -a first failure—that won’t do at all.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not discouraged, sir,” I answered stoutly. -“I don’t intend to permit myself to become discouraged.”</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” he said heartily. “That’s -the spirit that overcomes obstacles and wins out -in the end. Do you remember the last lines that -Browning ever wrote, where he described himself -as</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“‘One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Never doubted clouds would break,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Sleep to wake’?”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“Did Browning write that?” I asked, my -eyes a little blurred with the quick tears which -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>had sprung to them. “But I thought he was a -stuffy old poet whom nobody could understand?”</p> - -<p>“Many people think so,” answered Mr. Chester, -with his kind smile; “but it is mostly because -they have taken somebody else’s word for it and -have never tried to understand, themselves. Suppose -you try for yourself, sometime. You’ll find -him a tonic—just such a tonic as you need.”</p> - -<p>“I will,” I said, gratefully; and then, for the -first time, I noticed that the two boys were no -longer in the room. Mother noticed their absence, -too, at the same moment.</p> - -<p>“Why, where is Dick?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“They’ve probably gone back to the library,” -I suggested, leaping at once to the conclusion that -they had found a new clue. “Shall I go after -them?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear—we must be going. Tell Dick -it’s getting late.”</p> - -<p class="p2b">I ran up the stairs to the library door, eager to -find out what it was they had discovered. But in -the first moment, as I entered, I thought the room -was empty. Then I heard the low murmur of -excited voices from the deep window-seat. But -at the sound of my footsteps, the murmur ceased -abruptly.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> -<a id="illo3"><img class="box" src="images/i_098.jpg" width="350" alt="“I SAW FROM THEIR FLUSHED FACES THAT THEY HAD, -INDEED, MADE SOME DISCOVERY.”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“I SAW FROM THEIR FLUSHED FACES THAT THEY HAD, -INDEED, MADE SOME DISCOVERY.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span></p> - -<p class="p2">“Have you found out something, Dick?” I -cried, bursting in upon them. “Oh, tell me!”</p> - -<p>I saw from their flushed faces that they had, indeed, -made some discovery; but instead of confiding -in me at once, as I naturally expected them -to do, they glanced guiltily at each other like -two conspirators.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you going to tell me?” I demanded. -“I don’t think that’s fair!”</p> - -<p>“Well, you see, Biffkins,” began Dick, stammeringly, -“this isn’t anything for—for a girl -to know.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t?” I cried, my temper rising at such -duplicity. “I should just like to know why? -Perhaps you think I couldn’t help?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Dick, grinning fiendishly, as -he always did whenever I grew angry; “I don’t -believe you could!”</p> - -<p>I gasped with astonishment at the absurdity -of such a thing, and glared at Tom Chester, whose -face was as crimson as my own. And to think -that only a short while before he had danced -around the table to shake hands with me in an -alliance offensive and defensive! His treason -fairly took my breath away. And I had thought -him a nice boy, upon whom one could rely! I -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span>felt the hot tears rushing into my eyes; then my -pride asserted itself; and crushing them back, -I tossed up my head and scorched them both with -a single fiery glance.</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well!” I said, and marched from -the room.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_VIII">Chapter VIII<br /> -<span class="smaller">The House Beautiful</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> dawn, streaming in through the window, -awakened me, and, incapable of lying still a -moment longer, I climbed down softly from the -four-poster, without awakening mother. I hurried -into my clothes, and down the stairs to the -lower hall, which seemed alarmingly grim and -gloomy in the dim light. I paused an instant to -give the big grandfather’s clock a little friendly -pat—it seemed so kind and fatherly ticking -leisurely away there in the gloom, a sober survival -of that stately period when time walked instead of -ran.</p> - -<p>I had a hard struggle with the big wrought-iron -bolt of the front door, but finally it yielded, and -I swung the door open and stepped out upon the -porch.</p> - -<p>How fresh and bright and green everything -appeared! Every blade of grass was spangled -with dew, which the sun, just rising gloriously -over the far eastern treetops, was eagerly drinking -for his morning draught. It reminded me of -Cleopatra—only the sun was drinking diamonds -instead of pearls! And how sweet the air was, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span>breathing gently over the orchard, as though loth -to leave the scent of the apple-blossoms!</p> - -<p>I crossed the lawn and made a little tour of the -garden and orchard, discovering a hundred beauties -which had escaped me the afternoon before. -I found a hedge of lilacs which was just putting -forth its first green leaves, and a moment’s inspection -showed me that nearly every one of the -pretty clusters sheltered a bud. What a gorgeous -thing that hedge would be in a few weeks—but -perhaps I should never see it! The thought -sobered me for an instant; but nothing could -long cast a shadow over a morning so glorious, -and the cloud soon passed.</p> - -<p>Then a bustle of life near the barn attracted me, -and I found Abner and Jane busily engaged in -milking two cows before turning them out to -pasture. They gave me a pleasant good-morning, -and I stood for a time watching the milk foaming -into the pails.</p> - -<p>“Would you like a drink, miss?” asked Jane, -and when I nodded a delighted assent, handed -me up a foaming tin cup full. How good it -tasted, and how sweet it smelled! One would -fancy it the nectar of the gods!</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” I said, as I handed it back to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>her. “Some day you must teach me how to milk,” -I added. “It must be very difficult.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, miss,” said Jane, smiling; “there’s -jest a knack about it—a kind o’ turn o’ the -wrist. I’ll be glad t’ show you whenever you like.”</p> - -<p>But I didn’t want to be shown then—there -were too many other things to do. I started away -on a little tour of discovery, and was surprised -to find how large and well-kept the barn, stable, -and other out-buildings were. It was here, evidently, -that Abner had concentrated such energy -as advancing age had left him. I didn’t know then, -but I found out afterwards, that the especial pride -of every true farmer is his barn and stable, just -as the especial pride of every good housewife -is her kitchen. And Jane and Abner certainly -had reason to be proud of theirs.</p> - -<p>Two horses were standing sedately in the stable-yard, -their heads over the gate. Behind this was -a hen-house, with a large yard surrounded by -wire-fencing, and already the cackling from the -house indicated that the day’s work had begun. -I decided that I would make the chickens my -especial care if—</p> - -<p>There was always that “if,” everywhere I -turned; and I am afraid it did finally succeed in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span>taking some of the brightness out of the sky for -me, as I turned back toward the house. Of course, -as mother had pointed out, we had no claim on -grandaunt; and yet she herself had said that -blood is thicker than water and that we were her -only relatives. Perhaps we hadn’t treated her as -nicely as we might have done; perhaps we had been -a little thoughtless, a little too self-centred; but -how is one to live with a dragon? And, surely, -whatever our faults, we seemed by way of paying -dearly enough for them! Was I getting mercenary, -I asked myself; was I getting covetous? -Was I going to regret that decision that mother -had made eight years before? Was the legacy -going to prove a curse, instead of a blessing?</p> - -<p>The question troubled me for a moment; but -I did not have time to find an answer to it, for, as -I turned the corner of the house, I saw Dick -strolling along one of the paths of the garden.</p> - -<p>“Oh, there you are, Biffkins!” he cried. “Come -here a minute, will you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Dick, isn’t it a beautiful old place?” -I asked, as I came panting up.</p> - -<p>“Scrumptious!” he answered, and stood with -his hands in his pockets looking all around.</p> - -<p>I may say here that I have never been able to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>discover the derivation of this word; but it was -Dick’s superlative, and I was satisfied.</p> - -<p>“By the way,” he went on, after a moment, -“where was it you were digging yesterday afternoon, -Biffkins?”</p> - -<p>“Over here by the wall,” I said, and led him -to the rockery, and explained to him my method of -procedure. He listened closely and seemingly -with considerable interest.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got a great head, Biffkins,” he said, -approvingly, when I had finished. “I don’t -believe that I should ever have figured all that -out.”</p> - -<p>“Of course it didn’t come to anything,” I said, -apologetically.</p> - -<p>“That’s got nothing to do with it. Besides, -maybe you’ll have better luck next time. If at -first you don’t succeed, you know.”</p> - -<p>“What was it you and Tom were talking about -in the library last night, Dick?” I asked, seeing -his benevolent mood and judging it a favorable -moment to return to the attack.</p> - -<p>“Now, don’t you worry your head about that,” -he answered, sharply. “We were planning an -expedition. But there’s a bell, and I know it -means breakfast. Come on,” and he was off -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>toward the house before I could say another word. -I thought it cowardly in him to run away—I -know I should have had his secret out of him, if -he had only given me a fair show. Dick never -was any hand at keeping secrets, especially from -his sister.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“Dick,” said mother, when we were seated at -the table, “there are a few more things we’ll need -from home, if we’re going to stay here a month. -If I gave you a list of them, and told you where to -find them, do you suppose you could pack them -in a trunk and bring them back with you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes’m,” said Dick, promptly, for he never -really doubted his ability to do things.</p> - -<p>“There’s only one thing that worries me,” -added mother, “that’s about your studies. Neither -you nor Cecil ought to lose a whole month—you, -especially, when you have so little—”</p> - -<p>I couldn’t bear to hear her talk so, just as -though it were certain that we should have to -take up the old life again, with its manifold perplexities -and narrow outlook.</p> - -<p>“Oh, mother,” I cried, “we’re going to find -the treasure, you know, and then Dick shall go -to college!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span></p> - -<p>Mother smiled a wistful little smile.</p> - -<p>“That would be fine, wouldn’t it?” she said.</p> - -<p>“I hope it may come true, for both your sakes; -but we mustn’t be too sure—we mustn’t set our -hearts on it too much. Besides, whatever happens, -I don’t think you ought to lose a whole -month.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll tell you what we’ll do, mother,” said -Dick. “I’ll bring our school-books over, and Cecil -and I can put in a couple of hours every morning, -so we won’t fall so very far behind. Tom Chester’s -got a tutor,” he added, with some irrelevance, -“who’s coaching him for the June exams. He -comes over from Fanwood every morning.”</p> - -<p>“What college is he going to, Dick?” I -asked.</p> - -<p>“Oh, to Princeton,” said Dick, as though -there wasn’t any other.</p> - -<p>I knew that it was to Princeton Dick had -dreamed of going. He had never confided that -dream to anyone but me. And a bold project -leaped into my head, which I determined to carry -out that very day.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said mother, “you’ll never get to -college, or anywhere else, if you don’t study, no -matter how lucky you are in other ways. So it’s -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>agreed that you and Cecil will put in two hours at -your books every morning.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, mother,” promised Dick; “that’s -agreed.”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll make out a list of what we need,” -mother added.</p> - -<p>“Will to-morrow do to go after them?” asked -Dick, with a note of anxiety in his voice, “because -to-day Tom and I were going to—to—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; to-morrow will do very well,” said -mother, as he stopped in some confusion.</p> - -<p>“What is it you’re going to do, Dick?” I -questioned, putting my pride in my pocket.</p> - -<p>“Never you mind,” he retorted, and fell distractedly -silent, only smiling to himself from time -to time in a most tantalizing way.</p> - -<p>As soon as the meal was finished, having -assured himself that mother did not need him for -anything, he disappeared as entirely as though -the earth had opened and swallowed him; but I -suspected that he was somewhere on the other side -of that high wall which separated our garden from -the Chester place.</p> - -<p>Yet, after all, I did not miss him greatly, for -mother and I spent the morning in a tour of the -house—and such a house! I have already -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>spoken of its exterior; of its interior I know I -can give only the most inadequate idea. As I -have already said, a wide hall divided the lower -floor into two halves. The hall itself reminded me -of the pictures I have seen of the great halls in -feudal castles, with its beamed ceiling, its waxed -floor, its great fireplace and its impressive furniture. -On one side were the state apartments, the -parlours, connected by a double door. They had -apparently been hermetically closed for years, -and were very musty and dusty. They were furnished -in hideous horsehair, and we closed the -door behind us after the merest glance into them. -On the other side of the hall were the living rooms, -of heroic proportions and furnished with lovely -old mahogany of a style which I have since learned -is called Hepplewhite. The chairs, the tables, -the sideboard, were all things of beauty; graceful, -substantial and right in every way. How those -old cabinet-makers must have loved their work, -and what pains they took with it!</p> - -<p>Up-stairs were the bed-rooms, sewing-rooms, -servants’ rooms, what not. We went on and on, -through room after room, peering into innumerable -closets, opening windows and shutters; -stopping here and there to exclaim over some -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>beautiful piece of walnut or mahogany, and -standing fairly speechless at last among the chaotic -heap of treasures in the attic. It was evident -enough that the parlours had not always been furnished -in horsehair! There was a pair of slender-legged -card-tables, inlaid in satin-wood, with -entrancing curves—but there; if I stopped to -describe one-half the treasures in that attic there -would never be an end!</p> - -<p>“The Nelson family has lived here for five or -six generations, so Mr. Chester told me last -night,” said mother, at last. “They’ve always -been well-to-do, and that accounts for all this -beautiful old furniture. Besides, in those days -as in these, the best was always the cheapest. Just -see how strong and well-made it all is, built -honestly to last many lifetimes. Aunt Nelson -seems to have taken fairly good care of it; all it -needs is a little upholstering and refinishing. -However, it’s no use to talk of that!” and she -turned sharply to go down again.</p> - -<p>“But, mother, wait a minute,” I protested. -“You remember what Mr. Chester said—that -he believed the treasure was concealed somewhere -in the house? Isn’t this the most likely place of -all?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span></p> - -<p>“No more likely than any one of those scores -of chests and drawers and clothes-presses down-stairs,” -and she started resolutely to descend.</p> - -<p>I followed her despondently. What she said was -true, of course; the treasure might be in any one -of the closets, or in any one of the innumerable -drawers of dressers, cupboards, and bureaus, -all of which seemed crammed to overflowing with -the accumulations of those six generations. In the -beginning, I had had some wild notion of ransacking -the house from top to bottom, but I saw -now what a physical impossibility that would be -in the month allotted us. Alas, six days of that -month were already gone!</p> - -<p>I went out and sat down on one of the front -steps to think it over. After all, I told myself, it -would be foolish to go blindly about the search, -hoping to look <i>everywhere</i>, and consequently -looking nowhere thoroughly. The wise way -would be to begin with the more likely places, -search them carefully, and so proceed gradually -to the less likely ones. And what was the most -likely of all? Mr. Chester had said that grandaunt -would naturally wish to keep her securities -where they would be constantly under her eye -and easy of access. The next instant, I sprang -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>to my feet, fairly burning with excitement—to -keep them under her eye—to keep them where -she could look them over without fear of interruption—it -was obvious enough! They must be -concealed somewhere in her own room! How -stupid I had been!</p> - -<p>I fairly flew up the stair and to the room which -had been grandaunt’s. It was situated at the -front end of the upper hall, right over the front -entrance, and overlooking the drive. I hesitated -a moment with my hand on the knob, and a little -shiver of my old fear of grandaunt swept over me; -but I shook it away, opened the door and closed -it resolutely behind me. This was no time for -foolish sentiment. Besides, I didn’t believe in -ghosts.</p> - -<p>It was very dark in the room, but I opened one -of the shutters and let in a stream of sunlight. -Then I sat down to take a careful survey of my -surroundings.</p> - -<p>The room was not a very large one and was -furnished in the simplest fashion. One corner -was occupied by a four-poster of moderate size—a -mere baby beside the huge one in the guest-chamber. -The hangings were rather old and -faded, but the bed had on it a quilt, intricately -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span>embroidered, which, at another time, would have -awakened my enthusiasm. Preoccupied as I was, -I paused for an instant to look at it and to wonder -at the patience of its maker, for it evidently represented -long weeks of labour.</p> - -<p>Opposite the bed was a small dressing-table, -a very gem of a thing, and in a kind of alcove -between the two front windows was a desk, which -riveted my attention. It was a very large one, -of black walnut, and when I let down the top, -innumerable drawers and pigeon-holes were disclosed. -There was also a row of drawers down -either side to the floor, and in the sides, opening -outward behind the drawers, were partitioned -receptacles for account-books. All this I took in -at a glance, as it were, and my heart was beating -wildly, for I knew that this desk was the natural -hiding-place of grandaunt’s papers. It was just -here that she would keep them!</p> - -<p>But the rose of Sharon!</p> - -<p>I confess that baffled me for a moment; and yet, -I told myself, what was more natural than that -the whole hocus-pocus about the rose of Sharon -should have been devised merely to throw us off -the track. At any rate, I would examine the desk -as closely as I could.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span></p> - -<p>There were loose papers and a number of -account-books in the pigeon-holes, but a glance at -them was sufficient to show me that none of them -could be the documents I sought, even had it been -probable that grandaunt would have kept such -valuable papers so carelessly. The drawers, too, -were filled with a litter of papers of various kinds -and in the compartments at the sides of the desk, -old account-books had been crowded until they -would hold no more; but there was nothing which, -by any stretch of the imagination, could be made -to resemble “stocks, bonds and other securities.” -How that phrase mocked me!</p> - -<p>The search completed, I sat down again in the -chair before the desk and regarded it despondently. -The desk itself had been open and not one of the -drawers had been locked. The keys, strung upon -a wire ring, hung from a tack inside the desk. If -grandaunt had kept her securities there, it would, -most certainly, have been under lock and key.</p> - -<p>There was a wardrobe in the room, but a glance -into it had shown me that it contained nothing -but an array of grandaunt’s old clothes, hung -against the wall. If the papers were not in this -desk, where could they be? The room seemed to -offer no other reasonable hiding-place—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span></p> - -<p>A dash of colour at the back of the desk caught -my eye, and I leaned forward to descry hanging -there a little calendar, bearing a picture of a dark -girl in a picturesque red costume, standing beside -an old well, evidently intended to be Arabian or -Egyptian or something Oriental. There was a -little line of print under the picture, and my heart -leaped with a sudden suffocating rapture as I -deciphered it—“The Rose of Sharon!”</p> - -<p>I was so a-tremble for a moment that I clutched -the arms of the chair to steady myself—to keep -myself from failing forward; but the weakness -passed, and left behind it a kind of high excitement. -My brain seemed somehow wonderfully -clear. Without an instant’s hesitation, I counted -four pigeon-holes to the right and then three -diagonally. The last one was stuffed with papers, -which I had already examined. I did not so much -as glance at them, as I took them out, but laying -them on the desk, I put my hand into the hole -and pressed steadily against the back. I half-expected -to see the front of the desk swing outward -toward me, but apparently nothing happened, -though I was certain that I had felt the back of -the pigeon-hole move a little. Examining it more -carefully with my fingers, I felt a slight projection, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>and almost at the instant I touched it, a little door -at the side of the desk flew open.</p> - -<p>I sprang from my seat and peered into the -opening. It was a kind of cubby-hole between the -pigeon-holes at the front and the back of the desk, -its door cunningly concealed by a strip of molding—a -secret compartment, if there ever was one—and -in it lay a black tin box, the very counterpart -of the one Mr. Chester had shown us the night -before!</p> - -<p>I took but a glance at it, and then, snapping the -little door shut, ran frantically for mother. I -wanted her to share the joy of the discovery—to -be present when the lid was raised.</p> - -<p>I found her in the dining-room down-stairs, -putting the final touches to the dinner-table.</p> - -<p>“Why, Cecil!” she cried, as I burst in upon her. -“What has happened? You look—”</p> - -<p>“Never mind, mother,” I said, in a kind of -hoarse whisper. “Come along. And oh, hurry! -I’ve found it!”</p> - -<p>Her face whitened suddenly, and she put one -hand on the table to steady herself.</p> - -<p>“You’ve found it?” she repeated.</p> - -<p>I nodded. I was past words. Then I turned to -the door, and she followed me—out into the hall, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>up the stair, into grandaunt’s room. I stopped -before the desk.</p> - -<p>“See,” I said, my composure partially regained, -“this is grandaunt’s desk—the natural -place for her to keep her papers—and here is -the rose of Sharon,” I went on, showing her the -calendar with its Oriental picture and the line -beneath. “Here are four pigeon-holes to the -right and three diagonally; I press this little -spring at the back, and that little door flies open. -What do you see inside, mother?”</p> - -<p>“A tin box,” answered mother, almost in a -whisper.</p> - -<p>“And in the box,” I said, “are the papers.” -And I drew it forth.</p> - -<p>As I did so, a sickening fear fell upon me, for -the box was very light. In an agony of terror, I -threw up the lid. The box was empty, except -for a single sheet of paper. I snatched it out and -read it:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Niece</span>:—You will, of course, find -this box. Any fool could do that. I kept my -papers in it for many years, and they seemed safe -enough; but such a hiding-place was too obvious -for such a test as I proposed to set you. I therefore<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span> -removed them to another hiding-place, to -which the key which you have been given also -applies. Since you have come thus far on the -journey, I may say that I hope you will be successful; -but I doubt it. I fear neither you nor your -children have the industry and patience and -perseverance necessary to achieve success in any -difficult thing. I may be mistaken—I hope I -am.</p> - -<p class="right2">“Your Aunt,</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Eliza Nelson</span>.”</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_IX">Chapter IX<br /> -<span class="smaller">An Interview with the Enemy</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">I opened</span> my eyes to find mother bathing my -face and chafing my hands. The reaction—the -plunge from certainty to disappointment—had -been too much for me. I felt strangely weak and -flabby. I could scarcely raise my shaking hand to -my face.</p> - -<p>But the feeling passed in a moment, and I sat -up and pushed my hair away from my forehead. -I confess I was ashamed of myself.</p> - -<p>“Really, Cecil,” said mother, when she saw that -I was all right again, “if you’re going to take it -this way, I think the sooner we get away from -here the better. You mustn’t yield to your feelings -so.”</p> - -<p>“But oh, mother,” I cried, with a little sob in -my voice that I couldn’t repress, “it was cruel of -her! Cruel! Cruel!”</p> - -<p>“I’ve often heard your father say,” continued -mother, “that the greatest test of character is -defeat—that every manly man is a good loser. -Have you already forgotten those lines of Browning -which Mr. Chester repeated last night?”</p> - -<p>“No, mother, I haven’t,” I replied, and I -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>flung my arms around her neck and hugged her -tight. “Only, just at first, it was more than I -could bear. But I’m going to remember them, -mother dear—I’m going to be a good loser.”</p> - -<p>“If you learn only that,” said mother, smoothing -back my hair and kissing me, “this search will -be worth something to you, whether you find the -treasure or not. It will be a test of character, as -well as of patience and ingenuity.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, mother; but—but please don’t tell Dick -about the desk—not just yet.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” mother promised, understanding. -“And now straighten up your hair, for it must be -nearly time for lunch,” and kissing me again, she -hurried away down-stairs.</p> - -<p>Dear mother!</p> - -<p>I went over to the old dresser, and resting my -arms on top of it, stared steadily into the glass.</p> - -<p>“Cecil Truman,” I said, sternly, to my reflected -self, “you’re not going to be a coward any more, -nor a whiney baby. You’re going to be a good -loser. But you’re going to fight!” I added. -“You’re going to fight for all you’re worth!” -And somewhat comforted, I proceeded to do my -hair.</p> - -<p>Lunch was ready when I got down-stairs again, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>and a moment later, Dick appeared around a -corner of the house, looking so important and -mysterious that, but for my chastened mood, I -should have been tempted to box his ears. He ate -his food with disgraceful haste, scarcely speaking -a word, and snatched up his cap again the moment -he had finished.</p> - -<p>“You won’t need me this afternoon, will you, -mother?” he asked, pausing in the doorway.</p> - -<p>“No, I think not,” said mother, who never -needed him when he didn’t wish to be needed. -“Jane and I are going to drive down to the -village to get a few groceries and other things. -Would you care to go along?”</p> - -<p>“Not to-day, thank you, ma’am,” and he was -off.</p> - -<p>I peeped out the window and saw that he was -making for the Chester place as fast as his legs -would carry him. Really, it was too bad of Dick -to treat me so!</p> - -<p>“You’d like to go, wouldn’t you, Cecil?” asked -mother. “I think it will do you good to get away -from this place for a while.”</p> - -<p>But I had a sort of deadly fear that if I left the -place, it would somehow get beyond my grasp -entirely. I might wake up and find it all a dream. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>So I declined, too, and in the course of half an -hour, Abner and I saw mother and Jane drive -away down the road. Then, with the whole -afternoon before me, I resolutely put away from -me the thought of Dick’s treachery, and turned -anew to the solution of the mystery.</p> - -<p>“Abner,” I asked, as we turned back together -to the house, “did you ever hear of an apple-tree -called the rose of Sharon?”</p> - -<p>“The rose o’ Sharon? Why, certainly, miss. -It’s a big, red winter apple, but it don’t bear as -well as it might, an’ it ain’t so very tasty. The -Baldwin beats it.”</p> - -<p>“But is there one in the orchard?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—jest one—away over yonder in the -corner near the fence. You can’t miss it. It’s the -last tree as you cross the orchard. It’s an old -feller, an’ a tough one—all the other trees that -was near it has rotted or blowed down.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” I said; “and thank you.”</p> - -<p>“Air ye goin’ out there, miss? Ef ye air, we’d -best bolt the front door, fer I’m goin’ out to the -barn myself.”</p> - -<p>I agreed that it would be wise to bolt the door, -which we did, and proceeded on through the hall -to the back door. My tour of the morning had not -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span>included the kitchen, and there had been so many -other things to do and places to visit that I had -never even been in it. As I entered it now, I -paused for a delighted look at the rows of shining -pans, at the big range and all its paraphernalia. -In years agone, the cooking had been done in a -great open fireplace, fully eight feet broad, and the -range had been placed right in it, with its pipe -extending up the chimney. The old crane had not -been taken down, but still remained in place, -folded back against the wall out of the way. What -feasts had been prepared in that old fireplace! -My mouth fairly watered at thought of them. It -was in some such place as this that the people of -Dickens loved to sit and watch the spits turning and -sniff the savoury odours. Dickens always makes -me hungry.</p> - -<p>Everything was spotlessly clean, and bore witness -to Jane’s sterling housewifely qualities. Through -an open door beyond I caught a glimpse of the -milk-house and heard the tinkle of running water. -I stepped to it for a glance around. Rows of -crocks, covered with plates, stood in a trough -through which the water ran, clear as crystal and -cold as ice, brought through an iron pipe, as I -afterwards learned, from a never-failing spring -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>some distance back of the house. The whole place -had a delicious aroma of milk and butter, suggesting -cleanliness and health. I should have liked -to linger, but I had work to do.</p> - -<p>“It’s all perfectly delightful!” I cried, returning -to Abner, who had lingered by the kitchen hearth.</p> - -<p>“It is a nice place,” he agreed, looking about -at it affectionately. “Cosy an’ homelike. A -mighty nice place t’ set in winter, when the wind’s -howlin’ around outside, a-bankin’ the snow ag’inst -the house. I’ve set there by the fire many a winter -night an’ listened to it, an’ thanked my stars thet -I had a tight roof over my head an’ a good fire -t’ set by.”</p> - -<p>“I hope you’ll sit there many winters more,” I -said heartily.</p> - -<p>“Thank ’ee, miss; so do I. I don’t ask no -better place; but I’m afeerd we’ll hev t’ leave it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” I protested. “Grandaunt provided -that both of you should remain as long as you -care to.”</p> - -<p>“But mebbe we won’t keer,” answered Abner, -his face setting into obstinate lines. “Mebbe we -won’t keer when thet there ghost-raiser comes t’ -live here. It ain’t hardly decent, thet business he’s -in. He ort t’ be tarred an’ feathered.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span></p> - -<p>“Perhaps things will come out all right,” I -said, but the words were from the lips rather than -from the heart.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I hope so, miss!” he cried. “I do hope -so! We’d hate t’ leave the old place; an’ you’ll -excuse me, miss, fer sayin’ so, but we like you all; -we like you more’n I kin say. If they was only -somethin’ we could do t’ help!”</p> - -<p>His face was touching in its simple earnestness.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Abner,” I said, my eyes a little -misty. “I’m so glad you like us, and perhaps you -can help. You may be sure I’ll call upon you if I -need you.”</p> - -<p>“Do, miss,” he answered. “An’ upon Jane, -too. Now I must be gittin’ t’ my work. Is they -anything else?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, one thing. May I have the spade I had -yesterday?”</p> - -<p>“What’d ye do with it, miss?”</p> - -<p>“I—I—oh, yes!” I cried, overcome with -contrition. “I left it where I was digging. I’ll -get it!” and I ran away toward the garden, feeling -the reproachful glance he cast after me, and vowing -to myself never again to be so careless.</p> - -<p>I found the spade lying among the tangle of vines -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>where I had left it, and I sat down on the bench -to review the scene of my previous day’s work. -Mr. Chester had said that, in his opinion, the -treasure was not in the yard at all, but somewhere -in the house. So it had been; and my hands -trembled a little at the memory of the morning’s -disappointment. But it was there no longer—grandaunt -had removed it to another and less -easily found hiding-place—a hiding-place which -the rose of Sharon still guarded. The picture on -the calendar had proved that there might be roses -of Sharon of many and unexpected kinds. I -must look for them; I must get everyone around -the place to help me; and I must exhaust the -possibilities of each one before passing on to the -next. My search must be thorough and systematic. -That was my one chance of success.</p> - -<p>Plainly, then, it would be wise to begin at once -with the rose of Sharon before me; and so, -discarding the rule of four to the right and three -diagonally—for the four and three might mean -inches or feet or even yards—I proceeded to pick -up carefully all the stones arranged around the -shrub. They made a circle perhaps two yards in -diameter, and the task of getting them out of the -way was no light one; but I kept steadily at -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span>work, not minding bruised fingers, and finally I -had all the stones heaped on one side out of the -way.</p> - -<p>Then, after a short rest, I went to work with the -spade and began to dig up the dirt which the stones -had covered; but my back was aching and my -hands smarting long before the task was accomplished, -and more than once I glanced at the top -of the wall, hoping to see a boy’s figure there. -But none appeared, and I laboured on, reflecting -bitterly upon perfidious human nature. He had -said he was a good digger; he had offered to help; -and we had clasped hands upon it! Oh, how one -may be mistaken in a boy! Nerved by such -reflections, I did not stop until the whole circle of -ground had been well spaded up. Evidently -there was no treasure concealed about the roots of -this rose of Sharon!</p> - -<p>Half dead with fatigue, I sank down again, with -a sigh, upon the bench. The fatigue I should not -have minded so much, but for the sore heart in -my bosom. That one’s comrade should desert -one! That was the last straw! I almost wished -that we had never seen the place!</p> - -<p>I buried my face in my hands in the effort to -keep back the tears, for, as I have said already, I -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span>don’t like girls who cry. I resolved anew that I -would not permit myself to grow discouraged, that -I would keep right on trying. And as for Tom -Chester—</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, little girl?” asked a voice, -so near that it fairly made me jump. But it was -not <i>the</i> voice—oh, no, quite a different voice from -the one which had made me jump the day before. -“Not cryin’?”</p> - -<p>I looked up, and there was Silas Tunstall! He -was dressed exactly as he had been the day before, -only his white trousers were a little more soiled -than they had been then, and his face wore the -self-same smirk, and his whiskers were raggeder -than ever and his little black eyes brighter and -creepier. The rest of his face didn’t seem to fit -his eyes, somehow; one had an impression of the -same sort of contradiction which a wolf’s eyes in -a sheep’s face would occasion.</p> - -<p>“Not cryin’!” he repeated, eyeing me narrowly, -while I sat fairly gasping with astonishment, not -unmixed with fear. And then he looked about him -at the signs of my afternoon’s labour. “Been -diggin’, hev ye? Lookin’ fer the treasure, mebbe! -Oh, yes, the rose of Sharon!” and he glanced at -the shrub which stood tall and brown in the centre -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>of the circle of upturned earth. Then he threw -back his head and laughed.</p> - -<p>But the moment had given me time to collect -my scattered wits. My fear of him had passed, -and in its place came a hot resolve to make the -most of this encounter—to draw some advantage -from it, if I could. If he really knew where the -treasure was—well, surely my wits were as -good as his!</p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s a rose of Sharon, Mr. Tunstall,” I -said, as calmly as I could. “You remember what -the key said—‘The rose of Sharon guards the -place,’ and so on. Of course I’m trying to find -the treasure. You don’t blame me for that, do -you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” he answered, slowly, evidently surprised -at my loquacity—which, indeed, rather -surprised myself. “Oh, no; can’t say thet I do.”</p> - -<p>“It’s such a beautiful old place—we have all -fallen in love with it,” I continued earnestly, in -my best society manner.</p> - -<p>“O’ course; o’ course,” he agreed. “Most -anybody would. Go ahead an’ enj’y it.”</p> - -<p>“We are—and I’m doing my best to solve the -puzzle,” I added.</p> - -<p>“All right, go ahead if it amuses ye,” he said, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>with an assurance that made my heart sink. “But -ef I was you, I’d jest take things easy.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I think it’s worth trying,” I retorted. -“I’m going to investigate every rose of Sharon -about the place—you know there are apples and -plums and early potatoes, and I don’t know what -besides, which are called roses of Sharon.”</p> - -<p>“Air they?” he asked, laughing. “No, I -didn’t know it. It strikes me you’ve got a purty -big job on hand. Did ye ever hear the story of -the man what left his sons a ten acre field in which -he said they was a treasure hid, and they dug fer -it an’ dug fer it, till they finally caught on that -what he meant was the craps they raised arter -diggin’ the field up?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I said; “I’ve heard that story.”</p> - -<p>“Only thet couldn’t apply here, o’ course,” he -added, maliciously, “fer ye won’t hev time t’ -reap any craps. Howsomever, I ain’t got no -objections t’ you’re diggin’ the place up—mebbe -I’ll do some reapin’ myself. Only it’s purty hard -work—an’ mighty poor prospect of any pay. -But I ain’t got nothin’ t’ say till the seventeenth -o’ May; I’m givin’ ye a clear field. I’m playin’ -fair. I’m a white man, I am.”</p> - -<p>It was my turn to be surprised at his flow of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span>words. The emphasis he placed upon them seemed -to me a little forced, but I murmured that I was -sure he was very generous and fair-minded, and -that we all appreciated his kindness in playing -fair.</p> - -<p>“All right,” he said shortly. “I’m glad t’ hear -it. Is thet what your maw wanted t’ tell me? -Hardly wuth while fer me t’ come clear out here -fer thet.”</p> - -<p>“My mother?” I repeated, in astonishment. -“But she’s not here. She drove in to the village -this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“In to the village?” he repeated, his face -flushing a little. “How long ago?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, quite a while ago,” I answered. “She -had some shopping to do.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe she ’lowed she’d be hum by this time,” -he suggested, looking at his watch; and for the -first time I noticed the deepening shadows and saw -that I had consumed the whole afternoon in my -work. “Now I wonder what it could ’a’ been she -wanted t’ tell me?” He put his watch back into -his pocket, and took a restless step or two up and -down. “Ye haven’t heard her say anything about -a law-suit, hev ye?” he demanded, stopping before -me suddenly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></p> - -<p>“A law-suit?” I echoed, perplexed. “What sort -of a law-suit?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” he proceeded cautiously, watching me -closely, “I thought mebbe she’d got some fool -notion in her head thet the courts could upset the -will, ’r somethin’ o’ thet sort. These lawyer fellers -air allers lookin’ out fer jobs.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, she won’t do that!” I cried. “If we can’t -get the place the way grandaunt wanted us to, -we won’t get it at all—mother told Mr. Chester -that only last night.”</p> - -<p>“She did, hey?” and my visitor drew a sudden -deep breath. “Well, thet’s wise of her—no use -spendin’ your money on lawyers—though <i>they’d</i> -like it well enough, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t believe mother thought of it that way -at all,” I corrected. “She said we really hadn’t -any claim on grandaunt, and that she had a perfect -right to dispose of her property in any way she -wished.”</p> - -<p>My companion said nothing for a moment, only -stood looking down at me with a queer light in -his eyes.</p> - -<p>“’Tain’t many people who are so sensible,” -he remarked at last. “Well, I must be goin’,” -he added. “Sorry I missed yer mother. The -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span>next time she sends fer me, tell her t’ be at -home.”</p> - -<p>“Sends for you?” I repeated again, more and -more astonished. “Did she send for you?”</p> - -<p>“Thet’s what she did—a boy brought me word. -At least, I guess it was from her. Nobody else -here’d be sendin’ me any messages, would they, -an’ invitin’ me out here t’ see them?”</p> - -<p>“No,” I answered; “no, sir; I don’t think -they would.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I come, anyway; an’ I knocked at the -front door, but didn’t git no answer. Then I jest -naterally wandered around a little, thinkin’ she -might be out here some’rs, an’ I see you a-settin’ -here—an’ quite an interestin’ conversation we’ve -had, to be sure. You tell her—”</p> - -<p>“I don’t believe she sent for you, sir,” I interrupted. -“She wouldn’t have gone away, if she -was expecting you, and I’m sure she hasn’t come -back yet. Besides, if she wanted to see you, she -could have done so when she drove to town, -instead of getting you to come away out here.” -I might have added that I was perfectly certain -mother did not want to see him, but to have said -so would have been scarcely polite.</p> - -<p>“Thet’s so,” he agreed, and stood for a moment -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>in deep study. “Well, I dunno,” he added, at -last, slowly. “Looks kind o’ funny, don’t it? -Mebbe I made a mistake in thinkin’ the message -was from her. I ort t’ have asked the boy. But -if anybody’s been playin’ me a trick,” and his face -darkened, and he looked at me threateningly, -“they’d better watch out.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, nobody has been playing you a trick!” -I hastened to exclaim. “Who would play you a -trick?”</p> - -<p>“I dunno,” he repeated. “I dunno. But I’m -glad I come, anyway. It’s allers a pleasure t’ -meet sech a bright little girl as you air. I know -people run me down an’ lie about me; but I jest -want t’ tell you thet Silas Tunstall’s heart’s in the -right place an’ thet he plays square. I suppose -they’ve been tellin’ you all sorts o’ things about -me?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” I answered politely; “not at all.”</p> - -<p>“Said I was a spiritualist, hey?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, they said that,” I admitted.</p> - -<p>“Well, ain’t I got a right t’ be a spiritualist?” -he demanded hotly. “Thet don’t hurt nobody, -does it? Did they say I cheated?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Or stole?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p> - -<p>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Or lied?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p>“But jest because I mind my own business an’ -ask other people t’ mind theirs, they’re all arter -me. They can’t understand why I don’t spend my -evenin’s down to the village store, chewin’ terbaccer -an’ spittin’ on the stove. They can’t -figger out how I make a livin’, an’ it worries ’em! -Oh, I know! I’ve heerd ’em talk! Pah!” Then -his anger seemed suddenly to cool. “All I want -is t’ be let alone,” he went on, in another tone. -“I’m a peaceful man; I don’t harm nobody; an’ -I don’t want nobody t’ harm me. But I can’t -bear these here busy-bodies what’s allers pokin’ -their noses in other people’s business. Say,” he -added, suddenly, wheeling around upon me, -“s’pose we keep this here meetin’ to our two -selves?”</p> - -<p>He was smiling down at me cunningly, and I -disliked him more than ever.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I can’t do that,” I said. “I’ll have to tell -mother, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, all right,” he answered, carelessly. “It -don’t make no difference t’ me. I’ve got t’ go, -anyway—it’s gittin’ dark.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span></p> - -<p>He turned to go, but at that instant, two figures, -robed in white, dropped suddenly, as it seemed, -from the very heavens, and I saw Mr. Tunstall, -his face purple, struggling wildly in the coils of -an almost invisible net. With a shriek, I turned to -run; when our enemy, with a scream a hundred -times more shrill than mine, collapsed and tumbled -in a heap to the ground.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_X">Chapter X<br /> -<span class="smaller">Retribution</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> sound of that piercing scream, and the -sight of Silas Tunstall dropping lifeless to the -ground, gave me such a shock that I stopped -dead where I was, unable to stir hand or foot. -For a moment longer, I saw, with starting eyes, the -two ghostly figures circling uncertainly around the -prostrate form, in the increasing gloom; then they -stopped, drew together, and I heard a hasty consultation -in muffled tones, which I seemed to -recognize.</p> - -<p>“Biffkins!” called Dick’s frightened voice, at -last; “come here, will you, and get these things -off us!”</p> - -<p>He was tearing frantically at his white mufflings, -and the other—Tom, of course—was dancing a -kind of furious war-dance in the effort to get free. -And both of them were so excited that they were -getting more entangled every instant. I don’t -believe I had ever really thought them ghosts; -still, it was a relief to know that they were -familiar flesh and blood. I ran to them with -a glad cry, in a moment their ghostly cerements -lay about their feet, and they stood disclosed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span> -as two very tousled and very frightened -boys.</p> - -<p>“Do you suppose he’s dead?” asked Tom, -in a husky whisper, as they bent over the fallen -man, who lay in a limp heap, enveloped in a finely-meshed -fishing-net.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” answered Dick, paler than I -had ever seen him. “But I shouldn’t think -people’d die that easy. It’s not natural!”</p> - -<p>Tom had whipped out his knife and was cutting -away the net, quite forgetful of the fact that it -was one of his most precious treasures.</p> - -<p>“See if you can feel his pulse,” he said; and -Dick gingerly applied his fingers to Mr. Tunstall’s -wrist.</p> - -<p>“No,” he gasped, after a moment; “not a sign! -Oh! oh!” and he stared down at his victim with -eyes fairly starting from his head.</p> - -<p>“So this was the great secret!” I began. I know -it was ungenerous; but they had been very unkind, -and revenge was my due. Besides, the memory of -my profitless afternoon’s work was hot upon me—and -of how I had watched and hoped—“So -this—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, cut it out, Biffkins!” broke in Dick, -huskily. “Don’t rub it in! We—we can’t -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>stand it. You’d better go and call someone—call -mother—while we get him out of this thing,” -and he began to tear savagely at the net.</p> - -<p>“Mother hasn’t come home yet,” I said.</p> - -<p>“My father’s at home,” suggested Tom, and -without waiting to hear more, I was off along the -path to the gate, and then out along the road toward -the Chester house, the whole horror of the affair -suddenly upon me. I burst up to the door, panting, -breathless, and pulled the bell with a fury I was -far from realizing. Mr. Chester himself flung -the door open.</p> - -<p>“Why, what’s the matter?” he cried, seeing my -blanched face. “What has happened?”</p> - -<p>“The boys,” I gasped incoherently, growing -more frightened every minute, “tried to—scare—Silas -Tunstall—and he—dropped dead!”</p> - -<p>“Dropped dead!” he echoed, and I saw his face -go white with sudden horror.</p> - -<p>“And they want you to come at once, sir,” I -concluded, getting my breath.</p> - -<p>“Very well; lead the way,” he said, and he -followed me down the path, his lips compressed.</p> - -<p>My legs were beginning to tremble under me -with fatigue and excitement, but I managed to -keep on my feet until we reached the althea bush, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span>and then, pointing mutely to the boys, I tumbled -down upon the bench, utterly unable to take -another step.</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester bent over the prostrate man silently, -and looked at him for an instant. Then he dropped -to his knees, loosened the victim’s waistcoat and -listened at his breast. The boys stood watching -him with bated breath.</p> - -<p>“One of you go and get some cold water,” he -said, abruptly, looking up.</p> - -<p>Dick was off like a flash, thankful, doubtless, -for the chance to do something—and glad, too, -perhaps, to escape from Mr. Chester’s accusing -eyes.</p> - -<p>“Now, help me straighten him out here, sir,” -he said to his son, and in a moment they had Mr. -Tunstall extended flat on his back. I shuddered -as I looked at him, he seemed so limp and cold and -lifeless.</p> - -<p>Then Mr. Chester bent over him again and -began to compress his ribs and allow them to -expand, as I had read of doing for drowned persons. -He chafed his hands and slapped them -smartly and seemed to be pummelling him generally, -but the gathering darkness prevented me from -seeing very clearly. Dick soon came back with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span>the water, with which Mr. Chester bathed the -unconscious man’s face and neck. I had forgotten -my fatigue in the stress of the moment’s emotion, -and instinctively had joined the two boys, who were -kneeling beside their victim, peering down at his -flaccid, bloodless countenance, in a very agony -of apprehension.</p> - -<p>The chafing and rubbing and bathing seemingly -produced no effect, and as minute followed minute -and no sign of life appeared, the fear that it had -altogether fled deepened to certainty. The boys -looked already like convicted murderers, and I -could not help pitying them, in spite of the way -they had treated me. Somehow my hand stole -into Tom’s, and I was shocked to feel how cold -and clammy it was. He felt the pressure of my -fingers, and smiled at me wanly, and leaned over -and whispered, “I’m sorry, Biffkins;” and thereupon -all the anger I had felt against him melted -quite away.</p> - -<p>At last, Mr. Chester, despairing of gentler -methods, caught up a double handful of water -and dashed it violently into the unconscious -face. For an instant, there was no response, then -the eyelids slowly lifted and a deep sigh proceeded -from the half-open mouth. A moment -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span>more, and, rubbing his eyes confusedly, he sat up -and looked about him.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” he demanded, anxiously. -“Where am I?”</p> - -<p>The difference of tone and accent from those he -had used with me only a few minutes before -fairly startled me. He had dropped his drawl, -his nasal tone, his slip-shod enunciation. And his -face had changed, too. It was thinner and more -alert; and the ragged whiskers seemed absurdly -out of place upon it.</p> - -<p>“You’ve had a fainting-spell,” answered Mr. -Chester, gently. “You will soon be all right again, -I hope.”</p> - -<p>A dark flush suffused Mr. Tunstall’s face, and -he rose awkwardly to his feet.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; I’ll soon be all right ag’in,” he said, -with a weak attempt at a laugh. The drawl was -back again—the nasal twang; but none of the -others seemed to have noticed that he had used -another tone a moment before. I began to fear -him—to have a different conception of him—he -was an enemy far more formidable than I had -thought. Which was his natural tone, I wondered—and -yet, on second thought, there could be no -question as to that. His natural tone was the one -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span>he had used when he first came to himself, before -he fully realized where he was, before he had quite -got his senses back.</p> - -<p>“Have you had such attacks before?” asked -Mr. Chester.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; they ain’t nothin’. I has ’em every -onct in a while. Didn’t say nothin’ foolish, I -hope?” he added, and shot a quick, suspicious, -threatening glance at us.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Mr. Chester, “you didn’t say a -word—you didn’t even breathe, so far as I could -see.”</p> - -<p>“Only a scream at the first,” I said.</p> - -<p>“A scream?” repeated Mr. Tunstall. “What’d -I scream fer?”</p> - -<p>Then his eyes fell upon the tumbled white -robes on the ground. He gazed at them an instant, -then lifted his eyes and fixed them on the -two boys, with a malevolence which made me -shudder.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” he said, at last, in a low, hoarse -voice. “I remember, now. I remember, now!”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure, sir,” began Dick, but Mr. Tunstall -silenced him with a fierce gesture.</p> - -<p>“All right; all right,” he interrupted. “I -don’t want to listen. Much obleeged fer your -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>trouble,” he added to Mr. Chester. “I reckon -I’ll be goin’ along home.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think you’re strong enough?” asked -Mr. Chester. “If you’re not, I can have my -carriage—”</p> - -<p>“No, no,” broke in the other, impatiently. -“I’m all right, I tell ye,” and he slouched off -across the garden.</p> - -<p>We stood and watched him as he walked away, -until the dusk hid him; then Mr. Chester turned -to the boys with a stern light in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Now,” he said, “perhaps you two young -gentlemen will be good enough to explain what -you hoped to accomplish by this trick.”</p> - -<p>“We were going to make him confess, sir,” -answered Dick, in a subdued voice.</p> - -<p>“Confess? Confess what?”</p> - -<p>“Where the treasure is, sir. You know you -said you thought he knew where it was, and then -you told about coming on him that time dressed as -a ghost; and we thought maybe if we dropped on -him sudden in the dark in the same place, he might -think we were for-sure ghosts—”</p> - -<p>“One of us was going to pretend to be Mrs. -Nelson,” supplemented Tom. “We thought we -might frighten it out of him.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span></p> - -<p>“But, of course,” said Dick, miserably, “we -hadn’t any idea it would turn out like that.”</p> - -<p>For a moment, Mr. Chester continued to stare -at them in astonishment; then a peculiar inward -convulsion seized him, as though he wanted to -sneeze and couldn’t. As I looked at their downcast -faces, I felt very much like laughing, but I didn’t -dare with Mr. Chester standing there.</p> - -<p>“A brilliant scheme!” he commented, at last, -in a voice which trembled a little. “May I ask -which of you devised it?”</p> - -<p>“It was I, sir,” answered Tom, guiltily.</p> - -<p>“How did you know that Mr. Tunstall would -be here this evening?” queried his father.</p> - -<p>“We—we sent him a message by our boy, -Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>“A message?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir—that he’d learn something to his -advantage if he came out here this afternoon. We -knew Mrs. Truman had gone to town.”</p> - -<p>“He thought it was mother sent the message,” -I remarked.</p> - -<p>“And the message was a falsehood,” said Mr. -Chester, sternly. “It was, of course, inevitable -that they should tell a lie. Go on.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Mr. Tunstall came,” said Tom, flushing -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span>deeply at his father’s words. “We watched him -come up the road and go up to the house and -knock and try the front door. Then he wandered -around a bit, and finally saw Cecil sitting on the -bench there. She’d been digging some more.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and he frightened me nearly to death for -a minute,” I said.</p> - -<p>“It couldn’t have happened better,” said Dick. -“He talked quite a while, and we had time to get -all our trappings ready; and just as he turned to go, -we threw Tom’s big seine over him and dropped -off the wall. Before we had time to do any more, -he had fainted—we thought he was dead.”</p> - -<p>“And suppose he had been dead,” said Mr. -Chester, “as he might easily have been, since his -heart is probably diseased, do you know that at -this moment both of you would be guilty of manslaughter? -You hadn’t thought about that, of -course?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” answered both boys, together.</p> - -<p>“Do you think your mother, Dick, would have -been willing to pay such a price as that for this -place?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” burst out Dick; “nor I wouldn’t -either. I—I don’t like the place any more—mother -won’t either, when I tell her.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, Dick!” I cried reproachfully.</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester said nothing for a moment, but -stood in deep thought.</p> - -<p>“I will tell your mother myself,” he said, -finally. “We mustn’t have her prejudiced against -the place. But I hope this afternoon’s experience -will teach both of you a lesson—I hope that -neither of you will ever again try to startle anyone -as you tried to startle Mr. Tunstall this afternoon. -There is no kind of joke so dangerous. And, by -the way, Cecil,” he went on, turning to me, “what -was it you and Mr. Tunstall were talking about -so long?”</p> - -<p>“Why, I don’t just remember, sir,” I answered. -“He told me about getting the message, and I -told him I was sure it wasn’t from mother; and -then we talked about the treasure, and he said to -go ahead and hunt for it, that it wasn’t any of his -business until the seventeenth of May, and that -he was going to play fair.”</p> - -<p>“Was that all?” he asked, looking at me -keenly. “Try to think. Mr. Tunstall is a very -clever man. A silly note like the one sent him -wouldn’t have got him out here unless he had some -very definite object in coming, and was hoping for -an excuse to do so.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span></p> - -<p>“I don’t remember anything else, sir,” I said, -making a desperate effort at recollection. “Oh, -yes; he asked if I’d heard mother say anything -about trying to break the will, and I told him that -I had heard her tell you that she wouldn’t think -of doing so—that if she couldn’t get the place the -way grandaunt provided, she didn’t want it at -all.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester’s lips tightened, and he looked -grimly at the boys.</p> - -<p>“The note wasn’t such a lie, after all,” he said, -in a voice very stern. “Mr. Tunstall has learned -something very decidedly to his advantage.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XI">Chapter XI<br /> -<span class="smaller">The Shadow in the Orchard</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">So</span> I had aided the enemy! I had thought myself -clever enough to match my wits against his, and -I had lost! It was a bitter reflection!</p> - -<p>I had underestimated his strength, had dared -to face him when I should have run away, and he -had defeated me ignominiously. He had learned -from me exactly what he wished to learn, and now -he could rest secure until the month was up. I -could guess how the thought that we might, after -all, carry the matter to the courts had worried -him—his very anxiety went far to prove that we -might really be able to set aside the will.</p> - -<p>One thing was clear enough. Silas Tunstall -was not at all the ignorant boor that I had thought -him. His ungainliness, his drawl, his slip-shod -utterance were all assumed—for what? The -answer seemed evident enough. They had been -assumed to aid him in practising the deceptions -of his business as a spiritualistic medium. What -a belief-compelling thing it was for him to be -able to cast aside, whenever he wished, the uncouth -husk in which he was usually enveloped. -In the gloom of the seance, what sitter would -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span>suspect that that clear voice could be Silas -Tunstall’s, or that crisp and perfect enunciation -his? Oh, it was evident enough; and I had -walked straight into the trap he had set for me!</p> - -<p>These were the pleasing reflections with which -I had to comfort myself as we walked back toward -the house together. I had played the fool—the -boys were not to blame; it was I alone! If I had -only had sense enough to hold my tongue!</p> - -<p>The sound of wheels on the drive brought me -out of my thoughts, and we reached the front door -just as a buggy drew up before it.</p> - -<p>“Good gracious! I hadn’t any idea we should -be so late!” cried mother, as Mr. Chester helped -her to alight. “But there were so many things to -do, and on the way back we had a little accident—our -horse slipped and broke one of the traces, -and it took us half an hour to mend it. Won’t -you come in, Mr. Chester?”</p> - -<p>“Just for a moment,” he answered. “Tom, -you go on home and tell your mother I’ll be there -in ten minutes,” and he followed mother into the -house.</p> - -<p>Tom paused only long enough for a swift -whisper in my ear.</p> - -<p>“You’ve forgiven me?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes,” I answered.</p> - -<p>“I felt awfully bad when I looked over the wall -and saw you digging. I knew what you’d think -of me. But it’ll never happen again!”</p> - -<p>“It <i>did</i> hurt,” I said.</p> - -<p>“And don’t you give up, Biffkins,” he added; -“and don’t you go to blaming yourself. We’ll -win out yet,” and he gripped my hand for an -instant and was gone. And my heart was at peace -again, for I knew that my ally was true to me.</p> - -<p>What Mr. Chester said to mother we never knew, -but he must have put the adventure in a decidedly -milder light than he had used with the boys, for -he and mother were laughing as they came out -into the hall a few minutes later. And a great -load was lifted from me, for I had feared that -mother might really take a dislike to the place, if -Dick got into serious trouble about it.</p> - -<p>The episode was not entirely ended, however, -for next morning a note came from Mr. Chester -for Dick, and the two boys were sent off together -to apologize to Mr. Tunstall, who, they reported, -had received their apology as gracefully as could -be expected.</p> - -<p>“Only he looked at us out of those little black -eyes of his,” Dick confided to me privately, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span>afterwards, “as though he would like to kill us -on the spot. I’m afraid the whole thing was a -mistake, Biffkins. If he hadn’t had that attack -of heart disease, I believe we’d have got the -whole story out of him—if he knows it; but we -really only succeeded in converting an adversary -into a bitter enemy. Whatever he may pretend, -I’m sure he’s our bitter enemy now.”</p> - -<p>These were large words for Dick to use in conversation, -and they showed how serious he thought -the matter was. But I made light of it.</p> - -<p>“I don’t suppose he was any too friendly -before,” I said, “in spite of all his protests about -playing fair. Certainly we didn’t expect any help -from him. And I don’t see how he can do us any -harm.”</p> - -<p>“Well, maybe not,” agreed Dick, slowly. -“But just the same, it was a mighty foolish thing -to do.”</p> - -<p>Indeed, as I thought it over afterwards, Mr. -Tunstall had considerable cause to congratulate -himself on the outcome of the adventure, and on -his opportune fainting-fit. But for that, his -secret, if he possessed one, might really have been -frightened out of him; though now I think of it, -it seems improbable that even the most ghostly -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span>of apparitions would have impressed him as -supernatural. He had played that game too -often himself.</p> - -<p>“And oh, Biffkins,” added Dick, “you should -have seen the place where he lives. It’s a little -gray house, so shut in by trees and shrubbery -that you can’t see it from the road at all, even in -winter. In fact, a good many of the trees are -evergreens, so that winter doesn’t make any -difference. A funny little old woman let us in, -and we had to sit in a little stuffy hall for ever so -long before Mr. Tunstall came out to us. And he -didn’t ask us in—just stood and listened and -glowered, with his hands under his coat-tails, -and then sent us about our business. I tell you, -I felt mighty small.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I felt pretty small last night,” I said, -“when I found out how he’d fooled me.”</p> - -<p>“He’s a slick one,” was Dick’s final comment, -and I echoed the verdict.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Dick started for Riverdale, right after lunch, -with the list of things which we would need before -the month was up, and I took advantage of his -absence to put into effect the plan which had -flashed into my head the day before, when mother -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span>was talking about our studies. I went over to Mrs. -Chester’s and told her all about it, and the result -was that Mr. Chester called upon mother that very -evening, and suggested that Dick and Tom study -together under the same tutor.</p> - -<p>I saw how mother’s face flushed with pleasure -at the suggestion, but she hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps Dick may be in the way,” she said. -“Cecil tells me that Tom is preparing to enter -Princeton, and much as I would like my boy to -study with him—”</p> - -<p>“My dear Mrs. Truman,” broke in our visitor, -“it will have quite the opposite effect. Tom will -study all the better for having a companion. -Please say yes. It’s for my boy’s good, as well as -yours.”</p> - -<p>So it was settled; and when Mr. Chester left, -he gave my hand a little extra pressure, and -whispered a word in my ear which made me very -happy. And how pleased Dick was! Every day, -from ten o’clock till one, the boys were closeted -with the tutor, while I got my lessons by myself. -I can’t pretend that I enjoyed it, or that I always -spent all that time in study. I’m afraid that a -good part of it was spent in trying to puzzle out -the mystery of the rose of Sharon, and that the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>rule of four to the right and three diagonally -interested me more than did any relating to -planes and lines and angles. But, at least, the -time was not wholly wasted.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>How the days flew by! I was afraid to count -them; afraid to consult the calendar. The disaster -which was set to happen on the seventeenth of May -loomed steadily larger and larger as the march of -time brought it inexorably nearer. The stately -ticking of the old clock in the hall became a thing -to lie awake at night and listen to with dread.</p> - -<p>Not that we were idle, for the two boys and I -spent every afternoon and almost every evening -striving to solve the mystery. Dick was thoroughly -in earnest, now, and Tom proved himself the most -delightful and helpful of comrades. Dear mother -did not actively aid us much—indeed, I think -she had never permitted herself to believe that this -beautiful place could be hers permanently; but we -three young people kept at work with the energy -of desperation.</p> - -<p>We rooted up a good portion of the orchard, -taking all sorts of measurements from the old apple -tree which leaned, ragged and solitary, above the -pasture fence. We sounded the trees for possible -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span>hollows, but found most of them dishearteningly -sound. We dug up the earth for many yards -around the tall althea bush, and around as many -others as seemed in any way distinctive. As the -spring advanced, a clump of lilies sprang up among -the trees near the house, and formed the centre of -another extensive circle of operations—all of -which were absolutely fruitless of result, except -the enlargement of already healthy appetites.</p> - -<p>“I tell you what,” remarked Dick wearily, one -evening, “I’m beginning to believe that grandaunt -is playing a joke on us. You remember the story -of the old fellow who left a big field to his heirs, -saying in his will that a great treasure was concealed -there—”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I interrupted; “Mr. Tunstall spoke of -it, too; only he added that grandaunt could -scarcely have meant that, since we wouldn’t be -here to reap the harvest.”</p> - -<p>Dick winced at the words.</p> - -<p>“Confound old Tunstall,” he said. “What’s -become of him?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” Tom answered. “I haven’t -seen him for quite a while.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe he’s gone away,” I suggested. “Don’t -let’s think of him. Well, what shall we do next?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span></p> - -<p>We had just completed the exploration of the -vicinity of the clump of lilies, and Tom was standing -with his eyes fixed upon them.</p> - -<p>“But see here,” he cried, “we’ve just been -wasting our time grubbing around here.”</p> - -<p>“That’s evident enough,” growled Dick, with -a glance at the piles of earth we had thrown up. -“You’d suppose this was the Panama canal.”</p> - -<p>“But why didn’t we think? Don’t you remember, -Biffkins, we were going to look in your -grandaunt’s Bible—it wasn’t really any use -to look in father’s.”</p> - -<p>“Why, of course!” I cried. “How silly of us! -Come on, let’s look at it now.”</p> - -<p>“You run on,” said Dick, “and find it. I’m -dead tired—I’m also somewhat discouraged,” -and he threw himself down on the grass.</p> - -<p>“Shame!” I cried; but he only wiggled a little, -and turned over on his face. Tom sat down beside -him, and I saw that he was discouraged, too, -though he wouldn’t admit it. “Very well,” I -said. “I’ll get it. You two stay here.”</p> - -<p>I remembered having seen a shabby little leather-bound -book lying on the stand at the head of -grandaunt’s bed, and I did not doubt that this was -the Bible which she habitually used. So I flew -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span>away toward the house, and up the stair to grandaunt’s -room. It was evident enough that I had -guessed correctly, as soon as I opened the volume, -it was so marked and underlined. With a little -tremor, I turned to the Song of Solomon, and ran -down the narrow column until I came to the first -verse of the second chapter.</p> - -<p>The words, “I am the rose of Sharon,” formed -the first line. Just to the right of it, across the line -dividing the columns, was the second line of the -fourteenth verse, “in the clefts of,” then, diagonally -three to the left were the words, “the” -“rock,” “stairs!”</p> - -<p>With a shriek of victory, and hugging the little -volume to me, I flew down the stairs and out upon -the lawn.</p> - -<p>The boys looked up as they heard me coming, -and when they saw my face, both of them sprang -to their feet.</p> - -<p>“I’ve found it!” I cried. “I really believe I’ve -found it this time,” and I showed them the mystic -words.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Tom, at last, “it <i>does</i> seem that -that’s too big a coincidence not to mean something. -‘In the clefts of the rock stairs.’ What do you -think of it, Dick?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span></p> - -<p>“The cry of ‘wolf!’ doesn’t awaken any especial -interest, any more,” answered Dick languidly. -“I’ve become too used to it. But I suppose we -might as well look up the rock stairs, wherever -they are—”</p> - -<p>“But perhaps there aren’t any,” I objected.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” said Dick, wearily, “you’ll find -there’s some rock steps around the place somewhere, -and we might as well proceed to tear them -down, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>But I would not permit him to discourage me. -I hunted up Abner and asked him if there were any -rock steps or a rock stairway about the place -anywhere. Dick’s prediction came true.</p> - -<p>“Why, yes, miss,” he answered, slowly, “they’s -a short flight leads down into the milk-house, an’ -another flight into the cellar. Then there’s the -flight up to the front porch, an’ the other up to -the side porch.”</p> - -<p>“And is that all, Abner?” I questioned. “Be -sure, now, that you tell me all of them.”</p> - -<p>He stood for a minute with his eyes all squinted -up, and I suppose he made a sort of mental review -of the whole place, for he nodded his head at last -and assured me that these were all.</p> - -<p>Armed with this information, I rejoined the boys -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span>and—but why should I give the details of the -search? It was the same old story, infinite labour -and nothing at the end. Really it was disheartening.</p> - -<p>“Well,” remarked Tom, philosophically, when -we had finished putting the last step back into -place, “they needed straightening, anyway. And -the garden would have had to be dug up about -this time, too; and I’ve always heard that it’s -a good thing to loosen up the ground around -trees.”</p> - -<p>“I’m getting tired of improving the place for -Tunstall’s benefit,” objected Dick. “I move we -give it up.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no!” I cried. “We can’t give it up! -That would be cowardly. Do you remember -Commodore Perry, when he fought the British -on Lake Erie? He had a banner painted with the -words, ‘Don’t Give up the Ship,’ and he nailed -it to his mast; and when his ship was sinking, he -took the banner down, and carried it to another -ship, and nailed it up there. Let’s nail our banner -up, too.”</p> - -<p>“But we’ve done everything we could think of -doing,” objected Dick. “What can we do now, -Biffkins?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span></p> - -<p>“We haven’t gone in pursuit of the early -potato,” suggested Tom, demurely.</p> - -<p>“We can begin in the house,” I said; “begin -at the farthest corner of the garret, and work right -down to the cellar.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a big job,” said Dick, and sighed.</p> - -<p>“I know it is; but I’m beginning to believe more -and more that Mr. Chester was right, and that the -treasure is somewhere in the house. We’ll begin -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, we can’t begin to-morrow,” said Tom.</p> - -<p>“Why not?” I questioned, sharply, impatient -of the least delay.</p> - -<p>“Why, to-morrow’s May-Day,” he explained, -“and the children at the Fanwood school are going -to have a big time. We’ll all have to go—as -distinguished guests, you know. Father and -mother are going, and so is your mother. It’s to -be a kind of picnic—a May-pole and all that sort -of thing.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” I said, seeing that their hearts were -set upon it; “we’ll go, then;” but I must confess -that I did not enjoy the day, which, under other -circumstances, would have been delightful. But -in the midst of the gayety, clouding it, rising above -the laughter, the thought kept repeating itself -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span>over and over in my brain that only fifteen days -of grace remained. “Only fifteen days, only -fifteen days,” over and over and over. It -was with absolute joy that I climbed, at last, -into the buggy to start homewards, and I could -scarcely repress a shout of happiness as we turned -in at the gate and rolled up to the dear old -house.</p> - -<p>As soon as lessons were over next day, the search -of the house began. The refrain had changed a -little: “Only fourteen days—only fourteen -days!” it ran now. Fourteen days! Thirteen -days! Twelve days! How I tried to lengthen -every one of them; to make every minute count! -And how useless it seemed. For we made no -progress; we were apparently not one step nearer -the solution of the puzzle than we had been at -first. We opened boxes, ransacked cupboards, -explored dim crannies under the eaves, turned -drawers upside down—disclosing treasures, indeed, -which at another time would have filled me -with delight, but, alas! they were not the treasures -we were seeking! From the garret to the second -floor, then to the first floor, then to the cellar—we -turned the house inside out, did everything we -could think of doing, short of tearing it down, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span>and utterly without result! At last, mother interfered.</p> - -<p>“You children must sit down and rest,” she -said. “You will make yourselves ill. Cecil is -getting nervous and positively haggard.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t mind,” I said; “I wouldn’t -mind anything, if we could only find the -treasure.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t sleep well at night,” pursued -mother remorselessly. “You twitch about—”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I admitted; “and lie awake listening to -the old clock in the hall, and thinking that every -second it ticks off is one second less.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said mother, more sternly, “it must -stop. It isn’t worth it. Why not be satisfied with -thinking that we’re merely on a visit here—a -month’s vacation—and plan to make the last -days of the visit as pleasant as you can? Then, -when we go away, we can at least look back upon -having had a nice time.”</p> - -<p>“But we don’t want you to go away, Mrs. Truman,” -spoke up Tom. “Mother was saying again -last night how dreadfully she would feel if you -would have to go. As for me, I—I don’t know -what I’d do.”</p> - -<p>I looked up and met his eyes, and there was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span>something in them that made me feel like laughing -and crying too.</p> - -<p>“You’ve all been very kind to us,” said mother, -flushing with pleasure, “and you must come over -to Riverdale and see us often. I want you all to -be sure to come over and spend the last evening -with us here—a kind of farewell, you know.”</p> - -<p>She tried to smile, though it ended a little -miserably, and I could see that she was deeply -disappointed, too, but was being brave for our -sake. I never knew until long afterward how she -herself had worked to solve the mystery.</p> - -<p>We obeyed her by abandoning the search—indeed, -we must soon have stopped from sheer -inability to find anything more to do. We had -exhausted our ingenuity and our resources—we -were at the end. But all that could not prevent -me worrying—it had rather the opposite effect; -and night after night I lay awake, wondering where -the treasure could be. And though I was careful -to lie still and breathe regularly, so that mother -might not suspect my wakefulness, it was often -all I could do to keep myself from crying out under -the torture.</p> - -<p>In the afternoons, we rambled about the place, -or visited each other; but there was a shadow over -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span>us which nothing could lift. One day we even -made a little excursion to the range of hills which -shut us in upon the west. It was from them, so -Mr. Chester said, that we might see the sea over -the wide plain which sloped away eastward to it; -but we didn’t see it. Perhaps the day was not clear -enough, or perhaps the sun was too far west to -throw back to us the glint of the water; but I -fancy I should not have seen it, however favourable -the conditions, for I had eyes for little else than the -old house nestling among the trees, two miles -away. About it, the broad fields looked like the -squares of a great chess-board, dark with new-turned -earth, or green with the growing wheat.</p> - -<p>Dusk was falling as we started toward home. -We were all a little tired and very hungry, and we -cut across lots, instead of going around by the -road. We skirted a field of wheat, and finally -came to the back of the orchard, and silently -climbed the fence.</p> - -<p>“That’s the rose of Sharon,” I said, pausing -for a look at the old gnarled apple-tree. “I -wonder if it really could have anything to do with -the treasure?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, come on, Biffkins,” said Dick, a little -crossly. “Don’t you ever get that off your mind?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span></p> - - -<p>“No, I don’t,” I retorted, sharply. “And I -don’t see—”</p> - -<p>I stopped abruptly, for I fancied I saw a shadow -skulking away from us under the trees.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” asked Tom, following the -direction of my startled gaze.</p> - -<p>“I thought I saw somebody,” I said; and in -that instant, a terrible conviction flashed through -my mind. “It was Silas Tunstall. Quick—this -way.”</p> - -<p>I was off under the trees, without stopping to -think what we should do if it really proved to be -that worthy, and I heard the boys pattering after -me. We raced on, and in a moment, sure enough, -there was the figure, just swinging itself over the -orchard fence.</p> - -<p>“There; there!” I cried, and the boys saw it, -too. In a moment more we were at the fence, and -tumbled over it.</p> - -<p>But the figure had disappeared. We raced this -way and that, but could find no trace of it; and at -last we gave it up in disgust, and started back -through the orchard.</p> - -<p>But the memory of the figure I had seen for an -instant silhouetted against the sky, as it mounted -the fence, burnt and burnt in my brain—for I -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span>was sure that it carried under its arm a square -parcel of some sort—and I told myself frantically -that it could be only one thing—the -treasure.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XII">Chapter XII<br /> -<span class="smaller">Bearding the Lion</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Little</span> sleep did I get that night. Minute by -minute, I heard the old clock ticking away, while I -lay there and thought and thought. I had told -nothing of my suspicion to anyone—I hadn’t the -heart; but I was absolutely sure that Silas Tunstall -had stolen into the grounds the evening before, -knowing that we were away, and had secured the -treasure.</p> - -<p>But where had it been hid? We had searched -everywhere so thoroughly. Evidently not in the -house, for the thief would scarcely have dared -enter it while mother was there, nor would he have -chosen the early evening for such a venture. He -could not have approached the barn or stable-yard -unseen, for Abner and Jane were milking there. -Indeed, it was difficult to see how he could have -come undetected any farther than the orchard. -Perhaps the treasure had been concealed there -somewhere—and I remembered the old rose of -Sharon apple-tree leaning over the pasture fence. -Yet we had made it the starting-point of a very -careful search. I resolved that I would go over -the ground once again the first thing in the morning.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> - -<p>I was out of bed with the first peep of dawn.</p> - -<p>“Why, Cecil,” said mother, waking up and looking -at me in surprise, “what are you getting up -for?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t feel at all sleepy, mother,” I said, -“and I thought I’d like to walk around over the -place just at dawn.”</p> - -<p>Mother made no objection, so I slipped down the -stairs, and out the front door. Without pausing -an instant, I hastened toward the orchard. I -could soon tell whether Silas Tunstall had disturbed -anything there.</p> - -<p>I made straight for the old tree, and then walked -slowly toward the spot whence I had first descried -that shadowy figure slinking through the gloom. -I went over the ground in the vicinity carefully, -but could not see that it had been disturbed, except -where we ourselves had disturbed it. I was not -woodsman enough to follow footprints, even had -any been distinctly visible on the soft turf of the -orchard, and I began to realize with despair what -a hopeless task it was that I had undertaken. And -I began to realize, too, how absurd it was that I -should have supposed for a moment that the -treasure was concealed anywhere underground. -I had allowed myself to be influenced by a sort of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>convention that treasure was always concealed -there—the word “treasure” itself, which grandaunt -had used, was largely responsible for it; -but Mr. Chester had unquestionably been right. -No one would think of burying such treasure as -stocks and bonds; no woman, especially, would -place any of her belongings in such a position that -she would have to use a pick and shovel to get at -them.</p> - -<p>I had been walking aimlessly back and forth -through the orchard, and my eye, at that instant, -was caught by a bright spot of light some distance -off among the trees. I could see that the rays of -the rising sun were reflected upon some white -object, but what it was I could not guess, and I -instinctively turned toward it to find out. As I -drew near, I saw that it appeared to be a round -white stone, lying at the foot of one of the trees, -but it was not until I stooped over it that I saw -just what it was. It seemed to be a round piece of -cement stone, about ten inches in diameter, and -about an inch thick. It looked as though it had -been cast in a mould. For a moment, I was at a -loss to understand where it came from or how it -got there—then, suddenly, I remembered!</p> - -<p>More than once, as I had passed through the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span>orchard, I had seen this tree. A hollow had begun -to form about five feet above the ground, probably -where a limb had been ripped off years before in -a wind-storm. The decay had evidently made -considerable progress, but at last it had been -detected, and the hollow cleaned out and filled up -with cement. Now, as I stood hastily upright -and looked at the hole, I saw that it had not been -filled at all, but that this cement lid had been -carefully fitted over the hollow. I looked into it, -but could not determine its depth. I plunged my -arm into it, and found that it extended about two -feet down into the tree, that it had evidently been -carefully hollowed out, and that the cement cap -had kept it dry and clean. One movement of -my arm was enough to tell me that the hollow was -quite empty.</p> - -<p>I sat down against the tree a little dazedly, for -I understood the whole story. Here was where -the treasure had been concealed, and Silas Tunstall, -unable any longer to run the risk of our -finding it, had stolen into the orchard the night -before, removed the cement cap and abstracted -the box containing the papers. He had heard us -coming; we had startled him so that he had forgotten -to replace the cap, but had hurried away, the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span>box under his arm. This beautiful old place would -never be ours!</p> - -<p>And sitting there, watching the sun sail up over -the treetops, I made a great resolution. I would -beard the lion in his den; I would see Silas -Tunstall, and at least let him know that we knew -he had not played fairly.</p> - -<p>I carefully replaced the cap, noting how nicely -it fitted into the groove made by the bark, as it -had grown around it; then I went slowly back to -the house. I thought it best to say nothing to -anyone concerning the resolution I had made; -I doubted myself whether any good could come of -it, but I was determined to make the trial.</p> - -<p>Help came from an unexpected quarter.</p> - -<p>“Cecil,” said mother, at the breakfast table, -“I wish you would walk over to the village for -me and get me a spool of number eighty black -thread. I thought I had another spool, but I -can’t find it anywhere.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, mother,” I said, in as natural a tone -as I could muster. And as soon as I had finished -breakfast, I put on my hat and started for the -village.</p> - -<p>Though Dick had described the house in which -Mr. Tunstall lived, he had given me no idea of its -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span>exact location, except that it was somewhere along -the road between our place and the town, so there -was nothing for it but to ask at the little store -where I bought the thread. I asked the question -as indifferently as I could, but I saw the quick -glance which the boy who waited on me shot at -me.</p> - -<p>“Tunstall?” he repeated; “oh, yes, miss; I -know where he lives. Everybody around here -does. It’s about half a mile back up the road—a -little gray house, standin’ a good ways back -among the trees. You can’t miss it. It’s got two -iron gate-posts painted white.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” I said; “I remember the place -now.”</p> - -<p>“An’ there’s another way you can tell it, miss,” -he added, mysteriously. “It’s got green shutters, -an’ they’re always closed.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” I said, and having secured the -spool of thread, left the store. But I could feel -him staring after me, and I had an uncomfortable -consciousness that I had provided him with a -choice tid-bit of gossip.</p> - -<p>However, it was too late to help it, now; so I -hurried back up the road and soon came to the -gateway guarded by the two white posts. I turned -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span>resolutely in between them, and walked on along -the drive, which curved abruptly to the right, and -was soon quite screened from the highway. Then -I saw the house—a modest little gray cottage, -with closed shutters. But for what I had been -told about them, I should have concluded that -Mr. Tunstall was away from home. I went on to -the door and knocked, noticing, as I did so, how -it was screened by a row of broad-branched arbour -vitæ bushes. Evidently Mr. Tunstall was fond -of privacy—and for an instant I regretted my -haste in coming alone to pay him this visit.</p> - -<p>As I was trying to decide whether, after all, I -would not better make my escape before it was too -late, I heard a slight sound, and had a sense -of being scrutinized through the curtain which -covered the lights at the side of the door. An -instant later, the door opened noiselessly, and I saw -Silas Tunstall standing there looking down at -me.</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s Miss Truman!” he cried, in affected -surprise. “Won’t you come in, miss?”</p> - -<p>Without answering, and summoning all the -bravery I possessed, I stepped across the threshold -and into the hall beyond. The door was at once -closed, and I found myself in semi-darkness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p> - -<p>“This way,” said Mr. Tunstall’s voice, and his -hand on my arm guided me to the right. Then -my eyes became accustomed to the gloom, and I -saw that I was in the front room—a room rather -larger than one would have expected from the tiny -exterior of the house, and furnished in a most -impressive manner, which the semi-darkness appreciably -increased. Curtains of some thin stuff -which stirred in every breath of air hung against -the walls, and I fancied that a draft was introduced -from somewhere just for the purpose of keeping -them in motion. There was a little table near the -centre of the room, upon which were various queer-looking -instruments. A book-case, filled with big -volumes, stood in one corner. By the table were -two chairs. There was no other furniture. I -noticed that the curtains extended entirely around -the room, and that when the door was closed, there -was no sign of any aperture. I judged that the -two front windows had been padded with some -black cloth, to keep any glimmer of light from -penetrating to the interior, and I reflected that it -would be equally effective in preventing any -glimmer from within being seen outside. The only -light in the room proceeded from two candles -which flickered on the mantel over the fireplace, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span>and which seemed to burn with a queer perfume. -At least, I could think of no other place from which -the perfume could come. Indeed, some people -might not have called it a perfume at all. It -reminded me, somehow, of the odour of a freshly-printed -newspaper—the odour which, I suppose, -comes from the ink.</p> - -<p>Of course, I didn’t see all this at once, but -gradually during my visit.</p> - -<p>“Set down,” said Mr. Tunstall, and motioned -me to one of the chairs, while he himself took the -other. “What kin I do fer you?”</p> - -<p>I determined to hazard a bold stroke at once.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Tunstall,” I said, “I hope you won’t -keep up that drawl with me. It really isn’t worth -while. And I think your natural tone so much -pleasanter.”</p> - -<p>He stared at me for an instant in undisguised -amazement; then he leaned back in his chair and -chuckled.</p> - -<p>“Well, you <i>are</i> a bold one!” he said. “But all -right. I can’t say that I’ve ever enjoyed the -masquerade.”</p> - -<p>“Why did you adopt it?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“It’s a great advantage,” he explained, “for -an apparently uneducated man to be able to assume -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span>the guise of an educated one, when working at a -trade like mine. It’s convincing.”</p> - -<p>I nodded. That had been my own explanation -of it.</p> - -<p>“But why did you adopt the trade?” I persisted.</p> - -<p>He shrugged his shoulders and laughed slightly.</p> - -<p>“Really, I don’t know,” he said. “Why -not?”</p> - -<p>It reminded me of the March Hare and the Mad -Hatter. True enough, why not?</p> - -<p>“And now,” he added, “tit for tat. Have you -found the treasure?”</p> - -<p>“No,” I answered; “but you have.”</p> - -<p>He stared at me again for an instant.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what you mean,” he said slowly, -at last.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, you do. We saw you in the orchard -last night; and I found the hole in the tree this -morning. You didn’t put the cement lid back into -place.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t I? That was careless of me. But now -I remember. I heard you coming, and tried to -get out of the way.”</p> - -<p>“How did you get out of the way?” I asked. -“You just seemed to—to vanish.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span></p> - -<p>He laid one finger against the side of his nose -and smiled a little. I noticed that the finger was -stained a curious light green, as though with ink -or acid.</p> - -<p>“That’s one of my secrets,” he answered. “I -never go into a place until I’m sure of getting away -from it, if I want to.”</p> - -<p>I paid little heed to the words at the time, but -I had occasion to remember them afterwards.</p> - -<p>“So you admit it was you and that you got the -treasure?” I cried.</p> - -<p>“My dear Miss Truman,” said Mr. Tunstall, -“I admit nothing. In fact, I deny most emphatically -and unequivocally that I got the treasure, -or that I went to the orchard to get it. I can wait -for the treasure until it comes to me in a legal -manner. I’m no such fool as to give you people -a case against me.”</p> - -<p>“Then what was it you got?” I persisted. -“I saw you had a package of some sort under your -arm.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated a moment, looking at me closely.</p> - -<p>“Promise me one thing. If I tell you, you will -keep the secret.”</p> - -<p>“I—I can’t promise that,” I stammered.</p> - -<p>“All right,” he retorted easily; “then I won’t -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span>tell,” and he thrust his hands deep into his pockets -and leaned back in his chair.</p> - -<p>“I won’t tell,” I said, at last, “if it wasn’t the -treasure.”</p> - -<p>He sat still for a moment, looking at me, as -though still undecided.</p> - -<p>“I believe I can trust you,” he said, and arose -and brushed aside a curtain at the side of the -room. I saw that it concealed a little alcove in -which was a small table. He picked up something -from the table, and came back to me.</p> - -<p>“This is what I got out of the tree last night,” -he said, and placed a little metal case on the table -before me.</p> - -<p>“And what was in it?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Open it and see.”</p> - -<p>With some little trepidation, I undid the hasp -and threw back the lid. I could see nothing inside -but a jumble of white stuff, and I looked up to my -companion for explanation.</p> - -<p>“It’s merely some of my paraphernalia,” he -said, smiling grimly. “I often needed it when I -was over at the Nelson place, and I designed that -hiding-place for it. I found I would need it again -to-day, so I went after it last night. That’s the -whole story.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span></p> - -<p>I looked at him for an instant, and then slowly -closed the box.</p> - -<p>“I see you believe me,” he remarked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I said; “I do.”</p> - -<p>“And you’ll say nothing about it?”</p> - -<p>“No,” I promised.</p> - -<p>“Let me see,” he went on, “you have still—let -me see—three days of grace. Do you think -you’ll find the treasure?”</p> - -<p>“No,” I said again, “I don’t.”</p> - -<p>“Neither do I. I’m almost tempted to give you -a hint, just for the sporting chance; but I can’t -afford it. I’ve got to have that property,” and his -face suddenly hardened and his eyes grew cold. -“I’ve worked hard for it and taken chances for -it. It’s mine, and I’m going to have it. You -haven’t a chance on earth.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I agreed drearily, “we haven’t.”</p> - -<p>And for the first time, I really gave up hope. Up -to that moment, I had never really despaired; -I had been certain that something would -happen—some fortunate chance—to disclose -the treasure, and assure us possession of the -property. But in that instant hope died. I -had somehow trusted in our star; and now, -suddenly, I perceived that our star had ceased -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span>to shine. As Mr. Tunstall said, we had no -chance at all.</p> - -<p>“And now,” he added, rising, “I must ask you -to excuse me. I have an engagement for this -afternoon; the stage is set,” he added, with a -little gesture round the room. “Really, I don’t -know why I’m so candid with you, Miss Truman; -only one has to be candid with somebody occasionally, -or one would burst. And then, I believe I -can trust you not to repeat what I’m saying.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” I assented, drearily; “what would -be the use?”</p> - -<p>“What, indeed,” he echoed, and bowed me -out.</p> - -<p>As I turned away from the door, an elegant -carriage rolled up along the drive and stopped -before the house. The driver swung himself down -and opened the door. I would have liked to see -the occupant of the carriage, but it would have -been rude to linger, so I walked on. I could not -resist glancing over my shoulder, however, and I -saw the driver assisting from the carriage a woman, -evidently old, from her feebleness, and heavily -veiled. Plainly all of Mr. Tunstall’s patronage -might not be so unremunerative as Mr. Chester -imagined.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span></p> - -<p>As I turned away, I saw something else that -startled me—a figure disappearing behind one -of the evergreens. I caught only a glimpse of -it—just enough to tell me that it was a man’s -figure. I waited a moment, watching, but it did -not reappear, and, suddenly ill at ease, I hastened -out of the grounds.</p> - -<p>I went slowly homewards, meditating upon Mr. -Tunstall’s curious profession, his candor, and -above all on his evident confidence that we had no -chance.</p> - -<p>And I could not but confess that he was right. -We had no chance.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XIII">Chapter XIII<br /> -<span class="smaller">Surrender</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">And</span> so we came to the last evening. I had said -nothing about my interview with Silas Tunstall. -I did not see that it would do any good, and besides -I knew that mother would not approve of it. -More than that, I had virtually promised him that -it should remain between ourselves. I realized -that it was useless to struggle against fate, and -resigned myself to the inevitable. I cannot say -that it was a cheerful resignation, but I bore up as -well as I could. It was a kind of dreadful nightmare—those -last two days. Mother was the -bravest of us all; Dick, gallant fellow that he was, -managed to assume a cheerful countenance; but -Tom went about like a ghost, so white and forlorn -that even I, sore at heart as I was, could not help -smiling at him. Jane and Abner, too, showed their -sorrow in a way that touched me. I came upon -Jane one evening, sitting on the kitchen steps, -her apron over her head, rocking back and forth, -shaken with sobs. I tried to comfort her—but -what could I say—who was myself in such need -of comfort!</p> - -<p>On that last evening, Mr. and Mrs. Chester and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span>Tom sat down with us to dinner, as mother had all -along insisted they should do; but in spite of our -persistent efforts at cheerfulness, or perhaps because -of them, it reminded me most forcibly of a -funeral feast. I could fancy our dearest friend -lying dead in the next room.</p> - -<p>No one referred to the morrow, but it was none -the less in the thoughts of all of us, and was not to -be suppressed. Mr. Chester, at last, could stand -the strain no longer.</p> - -<p>“It’s pretty evident what we’re all thinking -about,” he said, “but we mustn’t permit ourselves -to take too gloomy a view of the future. Remember -that old, wise saying that ‘it’s always darkest just -before the dawn.’ Deep down in my heart, I -believe that something will happen to-morrow to -set things right.”</p> - -<p>“But what?” blurted out Tom. “What can -happen, father?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” answered Mr. Chester. “I -can’t imagine—but, after all, things usually turn -out all right in this world, if we just have -patience; and I’m sure that this muddle is going -to turn out all right too—I feel it in my bones. -There’s one thing, Mrs. Truman. Have you -quite made up your mind not to try to break the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span>will? I tell you frankly that I believe it can be -broken.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” answered mother, quickly; “there -must be nothing of that sort. I have quite made -up my mind.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester nodded.</p> - -<p>“Then we must trust in providence,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I always have,” said mother, simply. “And -if it chooses that this place shall not belong to us, -I, at least, will not complain. After all, we have -no real right to it—relationship doesn’t give a -right, except in the eyes of the law. We never did -anything to deserve it, and I’ve sometimes thought -that we would be stronger, and in the end happier, -if we didn’t get it. Gifts make paupers, sometimes.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not afraid,” said Dick; “we can fight -our own battles;” and he looked around at us -with such a light in his eyes that I could have -hugged him.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Mr. Chester, “I’m not one of -those who think that everything that happens is -for the best; but I do believe that our lives are -what we make them, and that we can make them -pretty much what we please. I certainly don’t -believe that your future depends upon this legacy; -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span>and you’ve won half the battle already by learning -to take disappointment bravely. I had quite a -shock to-day myself,” he added, half laughing. -“Look at that,” and he drew a bill from his -pocket and handed it to me. “What do you make -of it?”</p> - -<p>I unfolded it and looked at it.</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s a five-dollar bill,” I said.</p> - -<p>“So I thought,” he said, smiling ruefully. “But -it’s not.”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean it’s counterfeit?”</p> - -<p>“I certainly do. Pass it around.”</p> - -<p>It went from hand to hand around the table.</p> - -<p>“Well,” commented mother, “I don’t blame -you for being taken in. Anyone would be.”</p> - -<p>“It is a good imitation. The cashier at my bank -had to look twice at it before he was sure. And -he was on the lookout, too. He said there’d been -a lot of them passed in New York and Philadelphia -recently.”</p> - -<p>“It certainly seems a quick way to get rich,” -remarked Mrs. Chester.</p> - -<p>“But not a very sure one,” said her husband. -“In fact, it’s about the riskiest way there is. Counterfeiters -are always caught; Uncle Sam keeps his -whole secret service at work until he gets them,” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span>and he proceeded to tell us some stories of exploits -which the secret service had performed.</p> - -<p>They distracted our thoughts for a while, but -it was still far from being a merry evening, and I -am sure there were tears in the eyes of all the -others, as well as in mine, when our neighbours -finally said good-night.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The seventeenth of May dawned clear and -warm—a very jewel of a day—and as I sprang -from bed and threw back the shutters, I forgot for -a moment, in contemplation of the beauty of the -morning, that this was the day of our banishment—that -this was the last time I should ever sleep -in this room and look out upon this landscape. -But only for a moment, and then the thought of -our approaching exile surged back over me, and I -looked out on garden and orchard with a melancholy -all the more acute because of their fresh, -dewy loveliness.</p> - -<p>I met Dick at the foot of the stairs, and together -we left the house and made a last tour of the place, -saying good-bye to this spot and that which we had -learned to love. We looked at the chickens and -at the cows; at the old trees in the orchard, at -the garden——</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span></p> - -<p>We made the tour silently, hand in hand; -there was no need that we should speak; but at -last I could bear it no longer.</p> - -<p>“Dick,” I said, chokingly, “let’s go back to -the house; I don’t want to see any more.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Biffkins,” he assented. “I feel -pretty much the same way myself.”</p> - -<p>So back to the house we went, where we found -mother busily engaged in packing up our belongings, -assisted by Jane. That worthy woman was -plainly on the verge of despair, and restrained her -tears only with the greatest difficulty.</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester was to come for us at nine o’clock, -and the whole matter would probably be settled -before noon, so that we could take the afternoon -train back to the little house at Riverdale which -had been our home for fifteen years, but which, -so it seemed to me, was home no longer, and which, -in any case, we were so soon to lose. The mortgage -would fall due in a very few days, now; and, of -course, we had no means to meet it. After that—well, -I did not trust myself to think upon what -would happen after that.</p> - -<p>We had two hours to wait, and those two hours -live in my memory as a kind of terrible nightmare. -I moved about the house mechanically, helping -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span>mother, black misery in my heart. I had thought -that I had given up hope two days before; but I -realized that never until this moment had I really -despaired. Now I knew that hope was over, that -this was to be the end.</p> - -<p>At last, there came the sound of wheels on the -drive before the house, and a moment later Mr. -Chester came in for us. For an instant, I had the -wild hope that perhaps there was some provision -of the will with which we were not acquainted -and which would yet save us—that the past -month had been merely a period of probation to -test us, or perhaps a punishment for our mutiny -of eight years before; but a single glance at Mr. -Chester’s face crushed that hope in the bud. He -was plainly as miserable as any of us. He had -given up hope, too.</p> - -<p>“Mother,” I cried desperately, “I don’t need -to go, do I? Please let me wait for you -here.”</p> - -<p>“Why, my dear,” said mother, hesitatingly, -“of course you may stay if you wish; but—”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want to see that hateful Silas Tunstall -again,” I burst out. “I just can’t stand it!” and -then, in an instant, my self-control gave way, the -tears came despite me, and deep, rending sobs.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span></p> - -<p>I was ashamed, too, for I saw Dick looking at -me reproachfully; but after all a girl isn’t a boy.</p> - -<p>“You’d better go up-stairs, dear,” said mother -kindly, “and lie down till we come back. We’ll -have to come back after our things. Have your -cry out—it will help you.”</p> - -<p>I was glad to obey; so I kissed her and Dick -good-bye and mounted the stairs slowly. I felt -as though my heart would break. I wanted to -hide myself, to shut out the world, and be alone -with my misery. Blindly, I opened the first door -I came to, and entered the darkened bedchamber -at the front of the house, which had been grandaunt’s.</p> - -<p>I heard them talking on the steps below, and I -crept to the front window, and peering out through -the closed shutters, watched them till they drove -away. It seemed to me that my very heart went -with them—this, then, was the end—the end—the -end—! In a very ecstasy of despair, I threw -myself upon the bed and buried my burning face -in the pillow! Oh, it was more than I could bear!</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_XIV">Chapter XIV<br /> -<span class="smaller">The Rose of Sharon</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">I don’t</span> know how long I lay there, but after a -while, I felt a gentle hand laid on my shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Good gracious, Miss Cecil!” said a kind voice -at the bedside. “Don’t take on so, dear. You’ll -make yourself sick!”</p> - -<p>“I—I don’t care,” I sobbed desperately. “I -wish I was dead. You—you would cry, too.” -And I looked up at Jane’s dear old face.</p> - -<p>“I know I would,” assented that good creature, -and, indeed, at that very moment, she was compelled -hastily to use the corner of her apron to -check a tear that was wandering down her cheek. -“But,” she added, “I’d try t’ bear up ag’in it. -Lord knows, me an’ Abner’ll miss you!”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Jane,” I said; “I know you -will.”</p> - -<p>“An’ anyways, miss,” she went on, her housewifely -instinct asserting itself, “I wouldn’t spile -this here rose o’ Sharing quilt, the old missus set -so much store by.”</p> - -<p>“This what, Jane!” I cried, sitting up suddenly, -and sliding to the floor, my heart leaping to my -throat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span></p> - -<p>Jane fairly jumped.</p> - -<p>“Gracious, miss!” she screamed, “but you -give me a start, takin’ me up that quick!” and she -pressed her hand against her ample bosom and -caught her breath convulsively.</p> - -<p>“But what was it you said I was spoiling?” -I persisted, for I could scarcely believe that I had -heard aright.</p> - -<p>“Why, this quilt, to be sure,” she answered. -“You was cryin’ on it, and here’s a mark from -one o’ your—”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes!” I cried. “But what kind of a -quilt did you say it was, Jane?”</p> - -<p>Jane pressed her cool hand anxiously to my -forehead.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got a fever, child,” she said soothingly. -“I might ’a’ knowed you would have arter all that -worry. I was wrong t’ get ye up. You’d better -lay down ag’in. Never mind the quilt—it’s an -old thing, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Jane,” I exclaimed, with the calmness of -desperation, “will you kindly tell me again what -kind of a quilt you said this was?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a rose o’ Sharing quilt, miss,” answered -Jane. “Don’t y’ see these little flowers in every -other square an’ this here big one in the middle? -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span>Missus allers kept it on her bed, an’ would never -let any of us touch it; though I could never guess -why she thought so much of it, fer it ain’t purty, -to my mind.”</p> - -<p>While she was speaking, I had rushed to the -windows and thrown back the shutters; and as the -bright morning sun streamed into the room, I -bent over and looked at the quilt with eyes so -throbbing with excitement that I could scarcely -see it. Sure enough, on each alternate patch was -a little rude conventional representation of the -althea blossom, and on the centre patch was a much -larger one of the tall, upright bush, worked with -considerable care. Around the border of the quilt -ran a design of leaves.</p> - -<p>With hands that trembled so I could scarcely -hold it, I snatched the quilt off the bed, and starting -at the central figure, counted four squares to the -right and three diagonally. But the square that -I arrived at felt precisely like all the others. There -was nothing under it save the thick soft stuffing of -the quilt.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got it upside down, miss,” observed -Jane, who had been watching me uncomprehendingly, -puzzled, but much cooler than I.</p> - -<p>“Upside down?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes,” and she pointed to the central square.</p> - -<p>I turned it around and tried the same formula—four -to the right, diagonally three. What was this, -rustling beneath my fingers? Not cotton nor wool, -but something stiff, crinkling in my grasp like -paper—like stocks—like bonds!</p> - -<p>“Jane!” I gasped, falling to my knees in -sudden weakness; “Jane, oh, Jane, I’ve found -it!”</p> - -<p>“Found it, miss?” repeated Jane, in bewilderment.</p> - -<p>“Yes—the treasure! Oh, Jane!” and I was -on my feet again galvanized into action at the -thought. “We must get to Plumfield! We must -get to Plumfield, or it will be too late!”</p> - -<p>The meaning of it all burst in upon Jane’s -understanding like a lightning-flash, and she -staggered and grew faint under the shock.</p> - -<p class="p2b">“Jane,” I cried, seeing from her staring eyes -that heroic measures were necessary, “if you faint -now I’ll never speak to you again!” and I actually -pinched her earnestly, viciously, on the arm. -“Go tell Abner to hitch up the horse,” I added, -“just as quick as he can. A minute or two may -mean—”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> -<a id="illo4"><img src="images/i_194.jpg" width="350" alt="“‘JANE!’ I GASPED ... ‘JANE, OH, JANE, I’VE FOUND IT!’”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“‘JANE!’ I GASPED ... ‘JANE, OH, JANE, I’VE FOUND IT!’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span></p> - -<p class="p2">“He’s out in the hill-paster,” said Jane, reviving. -“He said he couldn’t stand it t’ stay -around the house.”</p> - -<p>My heart sank as I followed her down the -stairs. The hill pasture was a good mile away.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps we can hitch up ourselves,” I suggested, -hugging the precious quilt to me—feeling -the papers crinkle in my grasp.</p> - -<p>“I kin hitch up,” said Jane, “but I can’t ketch -old Susan, an’ never could. She jest naterally -runs when she sees me a-comin’.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ll try,” I said, desperately, for I -hadn’t much confidence in my horse-catching -abilities. “Come on,” and laying the quilt on -the table in the hall, I opened the front door and -ran down the steps—and right into a boy who -was standing there and staring disconsolately up -at the house.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Tom!” I cried, a great load lifted from -my heart. “Oh, but I’m glad to see you! Tom, -I’ve found the treasure!”</p> - -<p>For an instant, I thought he didn’t understand, -he stood staring at me so queerly, with all the -colour fading out of his cheeks. Then it rushed -back again in a flood, and he sprang at me and -caught me by the hands in a way that quite -frightened me.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p> - -<p>“Say it again, Biffkins!” he cried. “Say it -again!”</p> - -<p>“I’ve found the treasure,” I repeated, as calmly -as I could. “And, oh, Tom, don’t squeeze my -hands so—we must drive to town right away—to -the notary’s office—maybe we’ll be too late—and -will you catch the horse?”</p> - -<p>“Will I?” he cried. “Ask me if I’ll jump over -the moon, Biffkins, and I’ll say yes. Get ready,” -and he was off toward the pasture, where old -Susan was placidly grazing, quite unconscious of -the great mission that awaited her.</p> - -<p>I folded up the quilt and got on my hat and went -down to the door; and here in a moment came -Tom, driving like mad. And Jane was standing -there rocking her arms—</p> - -<p>“Hop in, Biffkins!” cried Tom, drawing up -with a great scattering of gravel. And I hopped -in.</p> - -<p>“God bless you!” cried Jane, from the steps. -“God bless you!” and as we turned out into the -road, I looked back and saw her still standing -there waving her apron after us.</p> - -<p>“Is that the treasure?” asked Tom, when we -were fairly in the road and headed for town, -looking at the quilt in my arms. “It doesn’t -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span>look much like a treasure, I must say. Is that -it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—that is, I think it is, Tom.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you know?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I—I believe it is, Tom,” I stammered, my -heart sinking a little. “I didn’t want to stop to -look. Feel right here.”</p> - -<p>He took one hand from the reins and felt carefully.</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t that feel like stocks and bonds?” I -asked.</p> - -<p>“It certainly feels like something,” he admitted. -“Well, we’ll soon find out,” and he -turned his whole attention to encouraging the -astonished Susan.</p> - -<p>I dare say that that old horse, in all her eighteen -years, had never covered that road so swiftly; -but the two miles seemed like ten to me, and I -think the most welcome sight I ever saw in my -life was the scattered group of houses which marks -the centre of the little village. We dashed down -the street with a clatter that brought the people -to their windows, and stopped at last at the little -frame building which served the notary for an -office.</p> - -<p>I jumped out, and without waiting for Tom, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>ran up the little flight of steps to the door, with the -quilt flapping wildly about me. And just as I -laid my hand upon the knob, the door opened -from within, and Silas Tunstall stood looking down -at me, his face lighted by a smile of triumph.</p> - -<p>“Well, what’s the matter, young one?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“I want to see Mr. Chester,” I gasped; “right -away.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Chester? Well, he’s in there; go on -in.”</p> - -<p>He went on down the steps, but looked at the -quilt in my arms with a little start as I passed him, -hesitated a moment, and then came back and stood -in the doorway.</p> - -<p>But I had burst into the room as though hurled -from a catapult. I saw a group about the table.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Mr. Chester!” I cried. “I’ve found it—the -treasure!”</p> - -<p>I was thrusting the old quilt into his arms—laughing, -crying—while he stared down at me -with puzzled face. Then he stared at the quilt -and seemed still more astonished.</p> - -<p class="p2b">“The treasure?” he repeated, mechanically. -“The treasure?”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> -<a id="illo5"><img class="box" src="images/i_198.jpg" width="350" alt="“HE STRETCHED OUT A LEAN HAND TO TAKE IT, BUT MR. -CHESTER SNATCHED IT HASTILY AWAY.”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“HE STRETCHED OUT A LEAN HAND TO TAKE IT, BUT MR. -CHESTER SNATCHED IT HASTILY AWAY.”</p> - -<p class="p2">“Yes; yes!” I cried. “Four to the right, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span>diagonally three. See!” and I guided his hand to -the proper square.</p> - -<p>“Why, bless my soul!” he exclaimed, as he -felt of it. “There <i>is</i> something here. Let us -see,” and he got out his pen-knife.</p> - -<p>“No, you don’t!” cried Silas Tunstall’s voice -from the door. “It’s too late—it’s all settled, -ain’t it? You’ve give up, ain’t you? That there -quilt’s mine, an’ I’d thank you to return it!”</p> - -<p>He stretched out a lean hand to take it, but Mr. -Chester snatched it hastily away.</p> - -<p>“It’s mine, I tell you!” he repeated hotly. -“Give it back, ’r I’ll hev you arrested, you thief!”</p> - -<p>I could not but admire the man. Even in a -moment such as this, he had presence of mind to -retain the drawl.</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester looked at him, frowning thoughtfully, -and my heart grew cold within me. To be -too late now! But in a moment, his brows relaxed.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Jones,” he said, turning to the notary, -“the will specifically states that the heirs are to -be allowed one month to find this treasure, doesn’t -it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p>“And nothing that we or anyone else can do -in the meantime can alter that?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span></p> - -<p>“I should think not; no, sir, certainly not.”</p> - -<p>“Very well. Mrs. Nelson did not die until -twelve minutes after twelve o’clock; so we have -still,” added Mr. Chester, glancing at his watch, -“twenty minutes in which to find this treasure. -If we do find it within that time, the property -belongs to Mrs. Truman and her children.”</p> - -<p>“No, you don’t!” snarled Silas, again. “Don’t -try any of your lawyer tricks on me. I won’t -stand it! You’ve give it up, I tell you; you can’t -go back on your word!”</p> - -<p>The room was still as death; everyone seemed -to hold his breath with the suspense of the moment.</p> - -<p>Only Mr. Chester was apparently unmoved. -With a sharp snip, which cut the silence like a -knife, he ripped open the square of the quilt and -drew forth a flat package of papers. He opened -it, and looked them over with a quick movement. -I could see that his hands were trembling a little -despite himself. I was watching him intent, with -bated breath, but I was still conscious, somehow, -of Tom’s white, strained face beside me. What a -dear fellow he was!</p> - -<p>Mr. Chester passed the papers to the notary, -and the two held a moment’s whispered conference<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span> -as they looked them over. Then Mr. Chester -turned back to us, and his face was beaming.</p> - -<p>“Miss Truman,” he said, “I congratulate you. -You have indeed found the treasure, and the -Court rules that the property is yours.”</p> - -<p>Mother was laughing convulsively, with the tears -streaming down her face; Dick’s arms were about -my neck; Tom had both my hands and was -shaking them wildly. There was such a mist -before my eyes that I could scarcely see.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Biffkins!” cried my brother. “Oh, -Biffkins, what a trump you are!”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I can’t tell clearly what happened just then, we -were all so moved and so excited. I remember -hearing what seemed to be a scuffle at the door, -followed by a muttered oath and a sharp command, -and I looked around to see two strangers standing -in the doorway, and one of them had a pistol -pointed straight at Silas Tunstall, who was staring -at it, his hands above his head.</p> - -<p>We all of us stood, for an instant, gaping in -amazement at this strange spectacle.</p> - -<p>“What’s all this?” demanded Mr. Tunstall, -angrily. “Turn that there gun another way, -young feller.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span></p> - -<p>The “young feller,” a well-built, clean-shaven -man of middle age, laughed derisively.</p> - -<p>“Oh, come, Jim,” he said; “it won’t do,” and -reaching forward with his disengaged hand, he -deliberately plucked out by the roots a tuft of -Mr. Tunstall’s beard. At least, I thought for a -moment it was by the roots—then I saw that there -weren’t any roots, but that the beard was a false -one, cunningly glued on. “Ladies and gentlemen,” -he added, glancing around at us, “permit -me to introduce to you Mr. James Bright, the -cleverest confidence man in the United States.”</p> - -<p>The prisoner’s face relaxed; in fact he was -actually smiling.</p> - -<p>“All right, Briggs,” he said, and I saw how the -others stared in astonishment at a tone which I -knew to be his natural one. “What’s it for, this -time?”</p> - -<p>“This,” answered the detective, and drew a roll -of new greenbacks from his pocket. “The best -you’ve done yet,” he added. “And a fine plant -you’ve got out there at that little place of yours. -We’ve been all through it.”</p> - -<p>“Is this one of them?” asked Mr. Chester, and -produced the counterfeit which had been passed -on him the day before.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s a sample,” answered Briggs, -glancing at it. “They worried us for a while, I -tell you. Of course we knew right away it was -Jim’s work.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to prove it’s mine,” pointed out -the prisoner.</p> - -<p>“Oh, we can do that easily enough. Your -fingers give you away.”</p> - -<p>And, looking at them, I saw again the curious -stains I had noticed a few days before. And I also -suddenly understood the odour which filled Mr. -Tunstall’s parlour.</p> - -<p>“But we’ve lost track of you,” went on the detective. -“It’s nearly a year since we heard of you—you’d -buried yourself so well down here—and -we hadn’t the least idea where to look for you. -One of my men has been shadowing your house -off and on for some time, because we had heard -some rather curious stories about one Silas Tunstall, -and we wanted to find out something more -about him. But we never suspected it was you. -That spiritualistic dodge was an inspiration and -that disguise is a work of art.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed the captive complacently, “I’m -rather proud of it, myself. There was just one -person it did not deceive.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> - -<p>“Who was that?” asked the detective.</p> - -<p>“That sharp-eyed and quick-witted young lady -yonder,” said the prisoner, and bowed in my direction.</p> - -<p>They all stared at me, and I felt that my cheeks -were very crimson.</p> - -<p>“Why, Cecil,” began mother, but the prisoner -interrupted her.</p> - -<p>“Understand, madam,” he said, “she didn’t -know I was engaged in anything crooked; I -don’t suppose she even suspected that these whiskers -were false; but she had caught my dialect -tripping in an unguarded moment, and she saw -through me right away. I congratulate her,” -he added. “She’s the cleverest I ever met.”</p> - -<p>I had never liked Mr. Tunstall, but, I confess -that, in this new incarnation, there was something -fascinating about the man. He seemed so superior -to circumstances and so indifferent to them. -There he stood now, more unconcerned and self-possessed -than anyone else in the room.</p> - -<p>“I know we were dense,” said the detective, -grimly; “but, anyway, we got you.”</p> - -<p>“Who put you next?” asked the prisoner, -curiously.</p> - -<p>“Shorty,” replied the detective, smiling broadly. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span>“We got him yesterday in New York, with the -goods on, gave him the third degree and he -peached last night.”</p> - -<p>“The cur!” muttered the prisoner between his -teeth, his face hard as iron. “I stayed here too -long,” he added. “I’d have been away from here -a month ago, but for this fool business,” and he -nodded toward the packet of papers. “I was like -a good many others—I thought maybe I could -make enough to be honest!”</p> - -<p>“Well, you’ll be honest for some years to -come, Jim,” laughed the detective, “whether -you want to or not; so perhaps it’s just as -well—and Uncle Sam’ll breathe a lot easier! -Put the cuffs on him, Bob,” he added, to his -companion.</p> - -<p>I saw the other man draw from his pocket something -of shining steel, and take a step forward. -The prisoner held out his hands—and suddenly -the handcuffs were hurled full into the detective’s -face. He staggered back against his companion, -the blood spurting from his lips, and in that -instant, the prisoner had ducked past, was out -the door and away. They were after him in a -moment, but by the time we got outside, the fugitive -had disappeared as completely as though the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span>earth had opened and swallowed him. Two or -three excited people were leading the detectives -toward a strip of woodland which stretched back -from the road, and which formed a perfect covert; -others were running out from their houses, and were -soon in full pursuit; but that was the last that I, -or, as far as I know, any of those then present, -ever saw of the famous Jim Bright.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And that’s the story. For why need I tell of -the drive home—home—yes, home! Of Abner -and Jane—of the dinner that evening—oh, -quite a different meal from the one of the night -before. You can imagine it all much better than -I can tell it. And though it was all three years -ago, there is a little mist before my eyes whenever -I think of it. It is sweet to think of it, and it has -been sweet to tell about it.</p> - -<p>And how we have grown to love the old place! -The old furniture has been brought down out of -the attic, and the horsehair hidden from view under -the eaves. For my own room, I have taken -grandaunt’s, and my little desk is between the -two front windows, and I can look out over the -walk and down to the road. And on my bed there -is a quilt, rather a faded and ugly quilt—but <i>the</i> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span>quilt—and it shall always stay there. And Dick -is a junior at Princeton, and so is—</p> - -<p>I hear a quick step on the walk below my -window, and a clear voice, “Oh, Biffkins!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Tom,” I answer; “in a minute.”</p> - -<p>Old Tom! For grandaunt’s legacy has brought -me more than a beautiful home—more than -stocks and bonds—I can’t write it—but you can -guess! Oh, I know, dear reader, you can guess!</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">THE END.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock2"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3"><small>From</small><br /> -L. C. Page & Company’s<br /> -Announcement List<br /> -of New Fiction</p></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Call of the South</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">By Robert Lee Durham.</span> Cloth decorative, with 6 illustrations -by Henry Roth $1.50</p> - -<p>A very strong novel dealing with the race problem in this -country. The principal theme is the <i>danger</i> to society from the -increasing miscegenation of the black and white races, and the -encouragement it receives in the social amenities extended to -negroes of distinction by persons prominent in politics, philanthropy -and educational endeavor; and the author, a Southern -lawyer, hopes to call the attention of the whole country to the -need of earnest work toward its discouragement. He has -written an absorbing drama of life which appeals with apparent -logic and of which the inevitable denouement comes as a final -and convincing climax.</p> - -<p>The author may be criticised by those who prefer not to face -the hour “When Your Fear Cometh As Desolation And Your -Destruction Cometh As A Whirlwind;” but his honesty of -purpose in the frank expression of a danger so well understood -in the South, which, however, many in the North refuse to -recognise, while others have overlooked it, will be upheld by -the sober second thought of the majority of his readers.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The House in the Water</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">By Charles G. D. Roberts</span>, author of “The Haunters of -the Silences,” “Red Fox,” “The Heart of the Ancient -Wood,” etc. With cover design, sixteen full-page drawings, -and many minor decorations by Charles Livingston Bull. -Cloth decorative, with decorated wrapper $1.50</p> - -<p>Professor Roberts’s new book of nature and animal life is one -long story in which he tells of the life of that wonderfully acute -and tireless little worker, the beaver. “The Boy” and Jabe -the Woodsman again appear, figuring in the story even more -than they did in “Red Fox;” and the adventures of the boy -and the beaver make most absorbing reading for young and -old.</p> - -<p>The following chapter headings for “The House in the -Water” will give an idea of the fascinating reading to come:</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Sound in the Night</span> (Beavers at Work).</p> -<p><span class="smcap">The Battle in the Pond</span> (Otter and Beaver).</p> -<p><span class="smcap">In the Under-water World</span> (Home Life of the Beaver).</p> -<p><span class="smcap">Night Watchers</span> (“The Boy” and Jabe and a Lynx see the Beavers at Work).</p> -<p><span class="smcap">Dam Repairing and Dam Building</span> (A “House-raising” Bee).</p> -<p><span class="smcap">The Peril of the Traps</span> (Jabe Shows “The Boy”).</p> -<p><span class="smcap">Winter under Water</span> (Safe from All but Man).</p> -<p><span class="smcap">The Saving of Boy’s Pond</span> (“The Boy” Captures Two Outlaws).</p> - -<p>“As a writer about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies an enviable -place. He is the most literary, as well as the most imaginative -and vivid of all the nature writers.”—<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p> - -<p>“His animal stories are marvels of sympathetic science and -literary exactness.”—<i>New York World.</i></p> - -<p>“Poet Laureate of the Animal World, Professor Roberts -displays the keenest powers of observation closely interwoven -with a fine imaginative discretion.”—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Captain Love</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The History of a Most Romantic Event in the Life of -an English Gentleman During the Reign of His Majesty -George the First. Containing Incidents of Courtship -and Danger as Related in the Chronicles of the Period -and Now Set Down in Print</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">By Theodore Roberts</span>, author of “The Red Feathers,” -“Brothers of Peril,” etc. Cloth decorative, illustrated by -Frank T. Merrill $1.50</p> - -<p>A stirring romance with its scene laid in the troublous times -in England when so many broken gentlemen foregathered with -the “Knights of the Road;” when a man might lose part of -his purse to his opponent at “White’s” over the dice, and the -next day be relieved of the rest of his money on some lonely -heath at the point of a pistol in the hand of the self-same gambler.</p> - -<p>But, if the setting be similar to other novels of the period, the -story is not. Mr. Roberts’s work is always original, his style is -always graceful, his imagination fine, his situations refreshingly -novel. In his new book he has excelled himself. It is undoubtedly -the best thing he has done.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Bahama Bill</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">By T. Jenkins Hains</span>, author of “The Black Barque,” -“The Voyage of the Arrow,” etc. Cloth decorative, with -frontispiece in colors by H. R. Reuterdahl $1.50</p> - -<p>The scene of Captain Hains’s new sea story is laid in the -region of the Florida Keys. His hero, the giant mate of the -wrecking sloop, <i>Sea-Horse</i>, while not one to stir the emotions -of gentle feminine readers, will arouse interest and admiration -in men who appreciate bravery and daring.</p> - -<p>His adventures while plying his desperate trade are full of -the danger that holds one at a sharp tension, and the reader -forgets to be on the side of law and order in his eagerness to see -the “wrecker” safely through his exciting escapades.</p> - -<p>Captain Hains’s descriptions of life at sea are vivid, absorbingly -frank and remarkably true. “Bahama Bill” ranks high as -a stirring, realistic, unsoftened and undiluted tale of the sea, -chock full of engrossing interest.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Matthew Porter</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">By Gamaliel Bradford, Jr.</span>, author of “The Private Tutor,” -etc. With a frontispiece in colors by Griswold Tyng $1.50</p> - -<p>When a young man has birth and character and strong ambition -it is safe to predict for him a brilliant career; and, when -The Girl comes into his life, a romance out of the ordinary. -Such a man is Matthew Porter, and the author has drawn him -with fine power.</p> - -<p>Mr. Bradford has given us a charming romance with an -unusual motive. Effective glimpses of the social life of Boston -form a contrast to the more serious purpose of the story; but, -in “Matthew Porter,” it is the conflict of personalities, the -development of character, the human element which grips the -attention and compels admiration.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Anne of Green Gables</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">By L. M. Montgomery.</span> Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50</p> - -<p>Every one, young or old, who reads the story of “Anne of -Green Gables,” will fall in love with her, and tell their friends -of her irresistible charm. In her creation of the young heroine -of this delightful tale Miss Montgomery will receive praise for -her fine sympathy with and delicate appreciation of sensitive -and imaginative girlhood.</p> - -<p>The story would take rank for the character of Anne alone: -but in the delineation of the characters of the old farmer, and -his crabbed, dried-up spinster sister who adopt her, the author -has shown an insight and descriptive power which add much to -the fascination of the book.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Spinster Farm</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">By Helen M. Winslow</span>, author of “Literary Boston.” Illustrated -from original photographs $1.50</p> - -<p>Whatever Miss Winslow writes is good, for she is in accord -with the life worth living. The Spinster, her niece “Peggy,” -the Professor, and young Robert Graves,—not forgetting -Hiram, the hired man,—are the characters to whom we are -introduced on “Spinster Farm.” Most of the incidents and -all of the characters are real, as well as the farm and farmhouse, -unchanged since Colonial days.</p> - -<p>Light-hearted character sketches, and equally refreshing and -unexpected happenings are woven together with a thread of -happy romance of which Peggy of course is the vivacious heroine. -Alluring descriptions of nature and country life are given with -fascinating bits of biography of the farm animals and household -pets.</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock2"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3 nobreak">Selections from<br /> -L. C. Page and Company’s<br /> -List of Fiction</p></div> - -<p class="center no-indent"><span class="smaller">WORKS OF</span><br /> -ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS</p> - -<p class="center no-indent"><i>Each one vol., library 12mo, cloth decorative $1.50</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Flight of Georgiana</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Romance of the Days of the Young Pretender.</span> Illustrated -by H. C. Edwards.</p> - -<p>“A love-story in the highest degree, a dashing story, and a remarkably -well finished piece of work.”—<i>Chicago Record-Herald.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Bright Face of Danger</b></p> - -<p>Being an account of some adventures of Henri de Launay, son of -the Sieur de la Tournoire. Illustrated by H. C. Edwards.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Stephens has fairly outdone himself. We thank him -heartily. The story is nothing if not spirited and entertaining, -rational and convincing.”—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Mystery of Murray Davenport</b></p> - -<p>(40th thousand.)</p> - -<p>“This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. -Those familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure of -this praise, which is generous.”—<i>Buffalo News.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Captain Ravenshaw</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Or, The Maid of Cheapside.</span> (52nd thousand.) A romance -of Elizabethan London. Illustrations by Howard Pyle and other -artists.</p> - -<p>Not since the absorbing adventures of D’Artagnan have we had -anything so good in the blended vein of romance and comedy.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Continental Dragoon</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Romance of Philipse Manor House in 1778.</span> (53d -thousand.) Illustrated by H. C. Edwards.</p> - -<p>A stirring romance of the Revolution, with its scene laid on -neutral territory.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Philip Winwood</b></p> - -<p>(70th thousand) A Sketch of the Domestic History of an -American Captain in the War of Independence, embracing events -that occurred between and during the years 1763 and 1785 in -New York and London. Illustrated by E. W. D. Hamilton.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>An Enemy to the King</b></p> - -<p>(70th thousand.) From the “Recently Discovered Memoirs of -the Sieur de la Tournoire.” Illustrated by H. De M. Young.</p> - -<p>An historical romance of the sixteenth century, describing the -adventures of a young French nobleman at the court of Henry III., -and on the field with Henry IV.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Road to Paris</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Story of Adventure.</span> (35th thousand.) Illustrated by -H. C. Edwards.</p> - -<p>An historical romance of the eighteenth century, being an account -of the life of an American gentleman adventurer of Jacobite ancestry.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>A Gentleman Player</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">His Adventures on a Secret Mission for Queen Elizabeth.</span> -(48th thousand.) Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill.</p> - -<p>The story of a young gentleman who joins Shakespeare’s company -of players, and becomes a friend and protégé of the great poet.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Clementina’s Highwayman</b></p> - -<p>Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50<br /></p> - -<p>Mr. Stephens has put into his new book, “Clementina’s Highwayman,” -the finest qualities of plot, construction, and literary finish.</p> - -<p>The story is laid in the mid-Georgian period. It is a dashing, -sparkling, vivacious comedy, with a heroine as lovely and changeable -as an April day, and a hero all ardor and daring.</p> - -<p>The exquisite quality of Mr. Stephens’s literary style clothes the -story in a rich but delicate word-fabric; and never before have his -setting and atmosphere been so perfect.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p class="ph3 nobreak"><span class="smaller">WORKS OF</span><br /> -CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Haunters of the Silences</b></p> - -<p>Cloth, one volume, with many drawings by Charles Livingston -Bull, four of which are in full color $2.00</p> - -<p>The stories in Mr. Roberts’s new collection are the strongest and -best he has ever written.</p> - -<p>He has largely taken for his subjects those animals rarely met -with in books, whose lives are spent “In the Silences,” where they -are the supreme rulers. Mr. Roberts has written of them sympathetically, -as always, but with fine regard for the scientific truth.</p> - -<p>“As a writer about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies an enviable -place. He is the most literary, as well as the most imaginative -and vivid of all the nature writers.”—<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p> - -<p>“His animal stories are marvels of sympathetic science and literary -exactness.”—<i>New York World.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Red Fox</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Story of His Adventurous Career in the Ringwaak -Wilds, and of His Final Triumph over the Enemies of -His Kind.</span> With fifty illustrations, including frontispiece in -color and cover design by Charles Livingston Bull.</p> - -<p>Square quarto, cloth decorative $2.00</p> - -<p>“Infinitely more wholesome reading than the average tale of -sport, since it gives a glimpse of the hunt from the point of view of -hunted.”—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> - -<p>“True in substance but fascinating as fiction. It will interest -old and young, city-bound and free-footed, those who know animals -and those who do not.”—<i>Chicago Record-Herald.</i></p> - -<p>“A brilliant chapter in natural history.”—<i>Philadelphia North -American.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Kindred of the Wild</b></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A Book of Animal Life.</span> With fifty-one full-page plates and -many decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston Bull.</p> - -<p>Square quarto, decorative cover $2.00</p> - -<p>“Is in many ways the most brilliant collection of animal stories -that has appeared; well named and well done.”—<i>John Burroughs.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Watchers of the Trails</b></p> - -<p>A companion volume to “The Kindred of the Wild.” With -forty-eight full-page plates and many decorations from drawings -by Charles Livingston Bull.</p> - -<p>Square quarto, decorative cover $2.00</p> - -<p>“These stories are exquisite in their refinement, and yet robust -in their appreciation of some of the rougher phases of woodcraft. -Among the many writers about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies an -enviable place.”—<i>The Outlook.</i></p> - -<p>“This is a book full of delight. An additional charm lies in Mr. -Bull’s faithful and graphic illustrations, which in fashion all their -own tell the story of the wild life, illuminating and supplementing -the pen pictures of the author.”—<i>Literary Digest.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>The Heart That Knows</b></p> - -<p>Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover $1.50</p> - -<p>“A novel of singularly effective strength, luminous in literary -color, rich in its passionate, yet tender drama.”—<i>New York Globe.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Earth’s Enigmas</b></p> - -<p>A new edition of Mr. Roberts’s first volume of fiction, published -in 1892, and out of print for several years, with the addition of -three new stories, and ten illustrations by Charles Livingston -Bull.</p> - -<p>Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover $1.50</p> - -<p>“It will rank high among collections of short stories. In -‘Earth’s Enigmas’ is a wider range of subject than in the ‘Kindred -of the Wild.’”—<i>Review from advance sheets of the illustrated -edition by Tiffany Blake in the Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>Barbara Ladd</b></p> - -<p>With four illustrations by Frank Verbeck.</p> - -<p>Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover $1.50</p> - -<p>“From the opening chapter to the final page Mr. Roberts lures -us on by his rapt devotion to the changing aspects of Nature and -by his keen and sympathetic analysis of human character.”—<i>Boston -Transcript.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="transnote"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="nobreak"><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Notes</span></p></div> - -<p>On page 69, bedroom has been changed to bed-room.</p> - -<p>On page 113, account books has been changed to account-books.</p> - -<p>On pages 116 and 120, downstairs has been changed to down-stairs.</p> - -<p>On page 131, lawsuit has been changed to law-suit.</p> - -<p>On page 168, stable yard has been changed to stable-yard.</p> - -<p>On page 172, tree-tops has been changed to treetops.</p> - -<p>On page 190, upstairs has been changed to up-stairs.</p> - -<p>All other spelling, hyphenation and dialect have been retained as typeset.</p></div> - -<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 69112 ***</div> -</body> -</html> |