"I have always known it," answered Mrs. Presby simply.

"What do you know about this Jack Howard's attentions to Olive?" he demanded sharply.

"They are childhood friends. Olive is still our baby, Richard. She has no thought of leaving us, I am sure. At least not in a long, long time."

Barbara, realizing that she was listening to a family conference, had suddenly shrunk back further into the corridor. She still could hear their voices. She retired further into the pa.s.sage. Now their voices reached her ears in a confused murmur. The girl crouched down, waiting.

The words of Mr. Presby had not made a very great impression on her, except that he had objected to one Nathan Bonner calling on his daughter. Who Nathan Bonner was Bab did not know.

Words, clear and distinct, spoken by Richard Presby, now reached Barbara plainly. He was speaking of another matter, one that was near to the heart of the "Automobile Girl" crouching there in the secret pa.s.sage of the old mansion. Barbara's face blanched as she heard and understood what Mr. Presby was saying. She was powerless to shut her ears to the words. Mr. Presby's further remarks were brief. He rose and stamped from the room, followed a few seconds later by his wife.

Barbara crept forward to the panel, peered out cautiously to make sure that there was no one there, then, throwing wide the panel, stepped into the dining room, and, gathering her skirts about her, fled to her room on the next floor. She could hear the girls laughing and talking in Olive Presby's room.

Reaching her bedroom, Barbara Thurston threw herself on the bed, and sobbed as though her heart would break.

CHAPTER IX

IN AN INDIAN GRAVEYARD

IT was Olive who found Bab there. She halted in the doorway, gazing in in amazement.

"Why, Barbara Thurston! What can be the matter with you?" cried Olive.

"We thought you were exploring the secret pa.s.sages under the old house, and here you are crying all by your lonely little self. Where is Tom?"

demanded Miss Presby, with growing suspicion in her eyes.

"I--I don't know," confessed Barbara weakly.

"See here, Bab, did Tom play any tricks on you?"

"Nothing of any account. He went out by some other exit. I returned the way I came. I am going back there to-morrow, if you do not object. I must solve the mystery of that secret pa.s.sage."

"You are a dear!" exclaimed Olive, kissing Bab affectionately.

At this juncture Ruth Stuart came in, having heard Bab's voice as she was pa.s.sing through the hall.

"Bab! When did you get back?" exclaimed Ruth. "Oh, I beg your pardon,"

she added, laughingly, as she discovered Olive and Bab engaged in serious conversation. "I see I am intruding."

"Come in, Ruth," answered Olive. "I found Bab crying here. I think Tom must have played pranks on her. Wait until I get my hands on the young man. You say you haven't seen him since you left the pa.s.sage, Barbara?"

Bab shook her head.

"I shall find him at once," announced Olive, rising and starting for the door.

"Please, please don't scold him," begged Bab. "Really, it isn't that that is the matter with me." But Olive insisted and went on her way in search of the irrepressible Tommy. Ruth stepped over and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at Barbara.

"Now, tell me all about it," urged Ruth gently.

"There--there isn't anything to tell," murmured Bab.

"I know what the trouble is. You are homesick," declared Ruth Stuart.

"To-morrow we have planned to give you an interesting day. We are going to explore the old place and I am going to take you to the Indian Cemetery. Quite likely some of the same gentlemen who scalped Olive's ancestors are buried out there. Bab, do you love me just the same as you used to?" asked the girl, bending a questioning gaze on Barbara's tear-stained face.

"You ought not to ask me that question, dear," answered Bab. "You know I do. It seems to me that I have known you for ever and ever so many years. Perhaps our friendship began in some other life. Sometimes I think it must have. But you haven't acted quite the same of late. It has seemed to me that you didn't love me as dearly as you used to and the thought has hurt me, oh, so much, Ruth."

"Why, Bab Thurston, how can you say so?" exclaimed Ruth. "I love you better than any other girl I've ever known. You ought to know that. The truth of the matter is that I am worried, dear. I have not been quite myself of late. I'm worried about father. Was--was it that that made you cry, dear?"

"Not exactly. I was crying because--because I felt sorry for you and--and for----"

"For whom?"

Barbara shook her head and closed her lips firmly.

"I shan't say another word. Please don't ask me. I want to think. If you don't mind, I am going to bed. Must I go downstairs first?"

"No, child. You tumble right in. I will tell the folks you are not feeling quite well. I want to speak to Olive before I go to bed, anyway."

"Tell them that I am going to bed, please."

"Yes."

"Please also say good night to Mr. and Mrs. Presby for me, won't you?"

Ruth said she would do so, and hurried from the room. She stopped in Olive's room to tell the other "Automobile Girls" not to disturb Bab, who had gone to bed feeling a little indisposed.

On the following morning matters appeared to have adjusted themselves to the satisfaction of all, for the girls were in their brightest mood. Bab now and then grew sober and thoughtful, but strove to throw off the feeling of depression that persisted in taking possession of her.

"I have a note from father," announced Ruth. "He says Mr. A. Bubble has entirely recovered. There were some broken bones, but these have been mended. Bubble is to be returned to us to-day, and then we will have a jolly ride."

"I sincerely trust there will be no gates in the way this time,"

observed Mrs. Presby, smilingly.

"Never fear. I have had my lesson," answered Ruth, flushing a little. "I never thought it would be possible for me to get into so much trouble with a motor car. Shall we show the girls the Indian burying ground this morning?"

"You take them, Ruth, if you will, please," answered Olive. "I must help mother with some family matters. You know more about the old cemetery than I do."

They started out shortly after breakfast, full of keen antic.i.p.ation.

Just outside the house Tom joined them. He had with him Olive's big setter dog, "General." Bab pinched Tommy's ear playfully.

"You were a naughty boy last night," she said.

"But you didn't find out where I got out, just the same," jeered Tom.

"No, but I am going to."

"I'll bet you don't."