MEETING A TREASURE HUNTER
GENERAL made a leap over the high mound. There came a growl, then a
sharp bark.
"Down, General!" commanded a manly voice.
A young man wearing rough clothes and a broad-brimmed soft hat, from
under which looked out a pleasant face, appeared, facing the girls.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I thought perhaps you might not see me.
You are from the house yonder. I know Miss Stuart by sight and the
General and myself are old friends."
The young man stuffed some papers into his pockets. As yet none of the
party had spoken.
"Hello, Bob. Is that you?" greeted Tommy.
"Yes. You caught me this time."
"You bet I did!"
"Won't you introduce me to your friends, so I may apologize to them for
my peculiar actions?"
"Oh, they're only girls," answered Tom airily. "What are you doing
here?"
"I am Robert Stevens, young ladies. I live near by. The Presbys are
friends of mine."
The girls were beginning to feel more at ease. He was not a desperate
character, after all. Their adventure had ended in nothing more than
meeting a friendly neighbor. Ruth stepped forward at this juncture.
"I am on a treasure hunt," said Stevens, smiling sheepishly.
The girls were on the alert on the instant.
"Treasure hunting!" exclaimed Barbara. "Where are your pick and shovel?"
"Oh, I haven't gotten that far yet," laughed Bob.
The girls decided that they liked Mr. Bob Stevens, and what was more,
they were keenly interested in his statement that he was hunting for the
lost treasure.
"I may as well be frank with you," he said, flushing. "Ever since I was
Tommy's age I have hoped to find some day the fabled pot of gold, or
whatever the treasure may be. My grandfather before he died gave me maps
and diagrams that he had made. He was as mad on the subject of the
buried treasure as the rest of us," explained Stevens. "It was his idea
that it would be found not far from the lake. He thought the Presbys had
naturally planned to return by water for the treasure in case they had
to flee from the fort. I have worked the ground near the lake
thoroughly. Now I am trying this strip of woods, working out from these
Indian mounds."
"Is the trail hot or cold?" questioned Bab.
"Very cold. Almost colder than the atmosphere to-day. Still, I have
hopes."
"If you were to find the treasure what would you do with it?" demanded
Ruth severely.
"Do with it? Why, I should turn it over to its rightful owner," answered
Stevens. "It's the sport of the search that interests me. You did not
think I would keep what doesn't belong to me, did you?"
The girls murmured their apologies.
"Please tell Mr. Presby that you found me here. Perhaps I had better go
back with you. May I?"
"Come along, Bob. Father will be glad to see you," said Tom, answering
for them. The girls offered no objections, so the young man accompanied
them, walking beside Tommy and General.
"You young ladies might be interested in looking over those old maps and
diagrams," suggested their new acquaintance.
"Indeed we would," agreed Barbara enthusiastically.
"Another thing I'd like to say, if you will permit me. Were I in your
place, I wouldn't go into the woods back there alone. There are people
hanging about this estate who are little better than tramps."
"What do you mean?" asked Grace.
"The news has been circulated that the Presbys are going to lose the old
place. There are a choice lot of gentlemen nosing about here hoping to
get a clue to the treasure before another owner takes charge. I heard
yesterday that some fellow from the city is planning to put men to work
here systematically. I don't know how true it is."
"They wouldn't dare to dig for treasure on another man's property,"
retorted Ruth indignantly.
"They wouldn't have to dig until they had located the treasure. Then
they might dig it up in the night and be off before anyone else was the
wiser."
"I don't believe there is any danger in our going where we please about
these grounds. I have been here a good many times, Mr. Stevens, and you
are the first stranger I have ever met on the grounds," declared Ruth.
"There are two men back there in the woods now," answered Bob
carelessly.
The girls stopped short and stood gazing at the forest that lay beyond
the Indian burying ground.
"Are you sure of that?"
Stevens nodded.
"I saw them," he replied, "watching you all the time you were coming
toward the mounds. I was watching them, though they didn't know that."
"Why don't you speak to Mr. Presby and have him put them off the
premises?" demanded Barbara.
"It wouldn't do any good. The fellows would take good care to keep off
the place while a search was being made for them. There's Miss Olive
waiting for you."
"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Stevens? I am glad you are with the girls," said
Olive. "Father was disturbed when he found they had gone over to the
Indian mounds alone. He said it wasn't safe to do that. Have you met my
friends, Mr. Stevens?"
"In a somewhat unceremonious fashion," laughed Stevens.
"Father wants to see you. I'll venture that I can guess how you chanced
to meet the girls," smiled Olive. "Now confess that you were treasure
hunting."
"I confess. Where may I find your father?"
"In the library. Go right in."
Bob Stevens promised the girls that he would show them his diagrams
after he had finished his conference with Mr. Presby. Then, raising his
hat to them, he set off toward the house. Mr. and Mrs. Presby were fond
of Robert Stevens. He was of good family, and well educated for a
country boy. His people were comfortably situated and Robert's ambition
was to help his friends, the Presbys, find the treasure that he never
had doubted was hidden somewhere on the estate.
But the girls did not see him again that day. Ruth's motor car had
arrived by the time they reached the house. The girls ate a hurried
luncheon and set off for a long ride before the two men had finished
their conference. It was almost dinner time when they returned with rosy
cheeks and sparkling eyes, greatly invigorated after their drive. A.
Bubble had behaved himself splendidly. Ruth said he worked much better
than before the accident. Bab suggested that it might be an excellent
idea to have him collide with a pair of stout iron gates at regular
intervals.
Bob Stevens had left his maps and diagrams for the girls to look over,
which they did after dinner. They were unable to make anything out of
the lines and figures of the treasure hunter. Mollie declared that the
man who made them must surely have been insane.
For an hour after dinner the Presbys and their guests chatted in what
was called the drawing room, a long, low, barn-like apartment, almost
rustic in its fittings and furnishings. The dining room being cleared,
Olive called the girls there. They found the room in darkness save for
the light shed by the fire in the fireplace and five candles arranged on
the sideboard.
"One for each girl present," explained Olive.
"To light us to bed?" questioned Mollie.
"No, indeed," smiled Olive. "Bedtime is still a long way off. We are
going to have a feast by candle light."
"I couldn't eat another mouthful after the dinner we had to-night. It
would be a physical impossibility," declared Bab.
"Don't make any rash assertions until you see what I have provided for
you in the way of a feast," replied Olive, as she took a large, flat tin
box from the lower compartment of the old-fashioned sideboard. "Ruth,"
she continued, "if you will draw the rugs up close to the fireplace we
will lose no time in beginning the festivities."
Ruth Stuart did so, arranging the rugs in a semi-circle. But the
interest of the girls was centred on the tin box, not on the rugs, just
at that time. Then Olive brought out five long, slender white sticks,
which she distributed among the girls.
"Aren't you going to open the box?" begged Grace anxiously. "Can't you
see we are dying with curiosity to know what is inside?"
"Bab, you may open the box."
The cover was off almost before the words had left Olive's lips.
"Marshmallows!" cried the girls in chorus. "Oh, isn't that simply
glorious?"
"And such a lot of them, too," added Grace Carter.
"Five pounds," Olive informed them. "We are about to sit down to a
marshmallow toast. Eat all you wish, but for goodness sake do not make
yourselves sick."
"She means you, Mollie," teased Ruth.
"The coat doesn't fit me, however," retorted Mollie. "But I do love
marshmallows. Do we toast them over the flames of the candles?"
"No," replied Olive, as she placed the five-pound box of sweets on the
rug between them and the fire. The girls sat down on the rug, with their
feet curled under them. Each speared a marshmallow and thrust it close
to the fire. Little blue flames rose from the white cubes and a
tantalizing odor filled the air.
"Oh, dear me. Mine's gone into the fire," cried Mollie in distress. "It
just melted away."
"So did mine," answered Barbara, "but it melted in my mouth."
"How nice of you to think of this, Olive. Thank you ever so much,"
glowed Grace Carter.
"This isn't my treat. My part is to carry out the little surprise. Mr.
Stuart sent out the marshmallows to me, asking me to give you girls a
toast. It is a real treat, isn't it?"
"Glorious!" breathed the girls.
"Did you children ever do fire-gazing?" asked Olive after a moment of
silence as the girls helped themselves to the sweets.
The "Automobile Girls" confessed their ignorance of the game. Olive
explained that each girl was to gaze into the fire then describe what
forms or figures appeared to grow out of the flames or coals.
"I see a red automobile," cried Mollie, almost as soon as she had fixed
her gaze on the fire. "And, oh, look at the man driving it! He is all in
red, wears a pointed beard and has a cloven foot. Isn't he a frightful
looking creature?"
"Your imagination needs no encouragement," declared Olive. "Let us hope
that the gentleman with the cloven foot may drive his car up the chimney
flue and fly away. What do you see, Ruth?"
"I see a fiery pit with a lot of imps dancing about, hurling balls of
fire at each other."
"Your turn, Barbara."
Bab was gazing at the fire in wrapt attention.
"I see a black chest, but I can't see what it holds, for the cover is
down. There goes the cover! Oh, look, girls! See the gold and the
sparkling jewels! See the golden coins glitter in the light of the fire!
Oh, oh, oh!"
"Money? Money? Where?" cried Mollie. "I want some of that money."
The spell was broken in a merry laugh. Mollie laughed, too, then turned
her gaze toward the window, for her eyes were smarting from the heat.
Suddenly her face took on a frightened expression, the color fading from
it.
"Look! Oh, look!" she gasped, scarcely above a whisper.
What they saw made the "Automobile Girls'" faces turn white with fear.