"But we want them ourselves," objected Grace.

"I have another box," admitted Olive. "Your father sent two boxes, though I did not intend to tell you about the second one just yet."

It was agreed that Tom's punishment should be a sweet one. Tom grinned broadly.

"Those things are for girls. I can swallow a boxful without winking an eyelid," he declared. "Gimme the box."

"No, Thomas, you aren't going to eat them that way. We are going to wait on you and help you to every mouthful," answered Barbara sweetly. "It isn't every boy who has five nice girls to wait on him when he eats. Is it, Tommy?"

"No," answered the boy in a doubtful tone. He did not exactly like the look of things now. Barbara placed a firm hand on his arm and set him down on a rug in front of the fireplace. Tommy was closer to the fire than was comfortable, but there seemed to be no escape for him. The five girls speared as many marshmallows, toasted them and thrust them flaming at the boy. Tommy gulped down the first one with evident enjoyment. Four others went down easily. Tommy decided that marshmallows were pretty good stuff. He called for more, and got them. There was always a stick with a flaming cube on the end of it ready to be thrust into his mouth.

Tommy rolled his eyes with satisfaction.

"I could take punishment like this for a week at a stretch. More!"

Still the girls fed him. Even Olive was gentle and considerate. Tommy did not recall ever having seen her more so. All the girls were very kind to him, but there was a mischievous twinkle in their eyes that Tommy was not astute enough to read.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I've Got the Spook," Shouted Bab Triumphantly.]

After a time the marshmallows began to take on a bitter taste. He did not appear to be eating them with the same relish as before.

"That stuff's no good for men," he jeered.

"Have another, Tommy," answered Bab, thrusting a blue flame into the boy's face.

"You needn't burn a fellow up," he rebuked, then swallowed the marshmallow with a gulp.

"Here, Tommy, is a nice, large one," added Mollie.

Tom's eyes were rolling. His face that had appeared very red when he first sat down before the fire, had grown several shades paler. The girls continued to feed him with marshmallows, forcing one after another upon him.

"I won't take another----" Tom did not finish what he had started to say. Olive thrust a hot marshmallow into the boy's open mouth. Tommy closed his mouth instantly, but not soon enough. The hot sweet clung to the roof of his mouth, bringing from Tommy a yell of pain.

"I'll be even with you girls for this," he howled, the tears starting from his eyes as he bounded for the kitchen for a drink of water. A shout of merry laughter followed him. Tommy felt very sick and staggered off to bed, where, half an hour later, his mother found him groaning. In response to Mrs. Presby's anxious inquiries, Tommy explained that he had an "awful stomachache."

"He deserved it," declared Olive. "He will learn to let us girls alone, I hope. Nevertheless, we got even with him this time."

"Yes, revenge is sweet," observed Bab, whereat the girls groaned dismally.

It had been decided that the "Automobile Girls" and Olive were to drive into Chicago on the following morning to bring Miss Sallie and Mr.

Stuart also to Treasureholme, if he could be induced to return with them. Ruth felt too that Mr. A. Bubble had not been getting enough exercise of late. Her companions agreed with her. But the next morning dawned most disappointingly. A great gale was blowing in from Lake Michigan, accompanied by blinding flurries of snow. It was not a cheerful outlook. The day was dark and the wind bitter cold.

Ruth was for starting out just the same, but a telephone call from Miss Sallie while the girls were at breakfast was to the effect that Mr.

Stuart had absolutely forbidden their starting out in such a storm.

"I am sorry, girls, but when dad puts it that way he means what he says.

I speak from long experience," declared Ruth. "We shall have to wait until to-morrow."

"This storm is likely to last for some days," announced Mr. Presby.

Ruth made a wry face.

"We will explore for the treasure if we have to stay in the house all the time," said Bab. "A day like this makes one feel mysterious."

"And creepy," added Mollie. "Why, good morning, Tommy. How are you to-day?" she smiled, as Master Thomas Presby took his place at the breakfast table. Tommy grunted out some unintelligible reply. For some reason he was not in the best of humor that morning.

In the meantime Olive was trying to think up some entertainment that would amuse the girls on a stormy day.

"I have it," she cried. "How would you girls like an attic party?"

They did not quite understand, never having heard of an attic party.

"What do we do at an attic party?" asked Mollie. "Do we have luncheon in the attic?"

"No. It is an entirely new idea with me. My idea is that we go to the attic and rummage. There are old chests and trunks up there, together with all sorts of odds and ends, as is usual with a family garret."

The girls beamed on her.

"That will be perfectly splendid," cried Mollie. "Remember, Bab, how we used to rummage in our garret on rainy days?"

"It will be a great fun," answered Bab.

"As we fear we may have to leave the old place," continued Olive, "we wish to overhaul everything up there, burning such stuff as we have no use for, saving anything that may be of use in the future. You girls can help me clear out the place."

"Am I in on this game?" interrupted Tom.

"Yes, if you will behave yourself," replied Olive, giving him a severe look.

"I can carry out the stuff that you want burned," he suggested.

Such willingness on the part of Tommy was unusual. Olive gave him a smile of approval.

"You shall have some more marshmallows for that," declared Ruth.

A pained look appeared on the boy's face.

"I don't want any marshmallows," he growled. "No more girls' food for me."

The "Automobile Girls" giggled. Mr. and Mrs. Presby paid no attention to this conversation. They were not in possession of the secret. The girls were eager for the attic party. There is always an element of mystery in an old family garret. This was especially so at Treasureholme.

Everything about the old place savored of mystery. Then there was the buried treasure, which, even though it might be a myth, lent an atmosphere of greater mystery than all the rest.

Little time was lost in getting to the garret, the girls first, however, putting on the oldest skirts they possessed. Olive explained that the place was full of dust and cobwebs.

Tom hurried upstairs ahead of them. They followed a winding, narrow stairway to the upper floor. To their surprise, the ceiling was high, the side walls were heavily wainscoted, an unusual condition for a garret. A broad chimney pa.s.sing up through the centre of the big room took the edge off the chill atmosphere of the morning, although they could hear the wind whistle and wail about the gables. There were shadowy corners holding old-fashioned trunks. Here and there were old family pictures in faded, chipped frames, old clothes, curtains, books, broken and old-fashioned furniture, in short, a varied and ancient collection of odds and ends that almost filled the place.

"Oh, girls, isn't this jolly!" exclaimed Bab, halting at the head of the stairs, taking in the scene eagerly. "I know we shall have a perfectly splendid time up here, and who knows but that we may unearth some of your ancestors' family skeletons, Olive?"

"Tom will dispose of them promptly if you find any," answered Olive.