Tommy fairly flew downstairs for Bab, who returned with him on the run.

Stevens showed her the box. Her eyes glowed.

"How is Miss Mollie?" asked the young man.

"I don't think there is very much the matter with her except the shock and the fright. She must have been unconscious down there for quite a time. Please open the box. I am dying of curiosity."

He broke open the box with the stove poker with which he had sounded the walls. All necks were craned to see what was in the box. To their wonderment, not unmixed with disappointment, Bob Stevens drew out a tarnished gold watch, on the back of which had been cut the letters "T.

W. P." It was of English make and very old.

Mr. Presby regarded it solemnly.

"That is my ancestor's watch. It can mean but one thing, finding it as we have. He left such of his worldly possessions as he could--this watch. And to think we have dug up half of the estate for a treasure that did not exist! It was his silent message to us that this was all he had to leave in case he did not return." Mr. Presby's voice held a note of keen disappointment. Even up to now he had not fully lost hope that by some fortunate circ.u.mstance the treasure might yet be found.

"He may have returned and taken the rest of it," reflected Bob. "But if that were so, why should he have gone to all the pains of leading us to believe there was more?"

"How so?"

"This find means more than appears on the surface, sir."

"May I look at it?" asked Barbara.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Slip Of Paper Fluttered To the Floor.]

Mr. Presby handed the watch to her. She opened the case and gazed long at the face of the timepiece. She closed the case with a snap, then turned to the back, first studying the initials, next trying to open the back case. Bob Stevens a.s.sisted her with his pocket knife. The case came open suddenly. A slip of paper fluttered to the floor at Bab's feet.

"Oh!" she cried, s.n.a.t.c.hing it up. She started to unfold the paper, then flushing, handed it to Mr. Presby. He shook his head.

"Look at it, my dear. There need be no secrets here."

Barbara did so, her hands trembling with excitement. A little furrow of perplexity appeared between the eyebrows. What she saw on the paper was a crude drawing of a toadstool with a slight point rising from the centre of the toadstool. In the background was what appeared to be a forest, but so awkwardly drawn that it was not possible to say positively that a forest was what the artist had intended. Below the picture of the toadstool was some writing. Stevens held the lantern closer, at her suggestion. "'The span of a minute is sixty seconds,'"

read Barbara Thurston. "Now, what in the world does that mean?"

"I think it was your little golden-haired sister who expressed the opinion that my ancestor was not in his right mind," said Mr. Presby. "I am inclined to that belief myself. I wash my hands of the whole affair!

Come, let us go below. This air here suffocates me."

Bob Stevens took the paper and, holding the lantern in the crook of his left arm, studied the bit of paper on his way downstairs, but made nothing out of it.

"I am not certain that it means anything at all, Miss Thurston," he said. "Perhaps the girls may discover some meaning. As for myself, I give it up."

"Thank you," answered Barbara. "I will show it to them. I know it must mean something, unless--unless the original Mr. Presby were crazy in fact."

"I am beginning to think we are all crazy," laughed Stevens.

After having again inquired for Mollie, and shaken hands with Barbara and Ruth, Bob went home. Barbara had stuffed the slip of paper into the pocket of her blouse on her way to Mollie's room. Mollie now lay wide awake. Her face was pale. There was a livid mark on her forehead, where she had come violently in contact with the chimney side on her tumble into the hole in the gable floor.

"Oh, Mollie, dear," soothed Bab, throwing her arms about her sister. "It had to be you who got the worst of the b.u.mp. Were you leaning against the wall, too?"

Mollie nodded weakly.

"What happened?" she asked.

Barbara explained as well as she could from the brief description of the panel mechanism that Mr. Stevens had given to her, to which Mollie listened wide-eyed.

"You dear 'Automobile Girls,'" cried Ruth. "Will you never stop picking up horseshoe nails with all four tires?"

"But we manage to wriggle our way through the broken gla.s.s, don't we, Molliekins?"

Mollie nodded and smiled. The wind was still howling without. In the pause of conversation the girls listened. Suddenly Ruth sprang up.

"I have forgotten two things," she exclaimed. "I must go out and put the storm curtains on Mr. A. Bubble and telephone father that Bubble must go to the shop."

"You didn't have another accident?" inquired Barbara anxiously.

"No. I blew up the two rear tires and came in on the rims. Oh, girls, I wish you might have been along. No, I don't, either. I'm afraid the car wouldn't have stood up under that additional weight. It was great!"

"Did--did you go some?" questioned Mollie.

"Did we? Ask Tom! I'll wager that young man's head is whirling still. I never thought we should make it, but I was bound not to set back the spark a single notch until I either turned turtle in the ditch or got Mr. Stevens here to help find you, Bab. We made it, didn't we, Tommy boy?" Tom had just entered the room to see what was going on.

"You bet we did," answered Tom.

"Would you like to ride so fast as that another time?" questioned Ruth merrily.

"Well, maybe in a railroad train," answered Tommy.

"I'll take you out again when the car is repaired," said Ruth.

"Not when I'm awake you won't."

"You say you came home on the rims?" wondered Barbara. "I should have thought it would have crushed them. Yours is a heavy car, Ruth."

"It would have crushed them, only the rims didn't touch the ground till we got in the drive here," observed Thomas wisely, whereat the girls laughed merrily.

Ruth started to go down and put on her storm curtains. Bab ran after her to a.s.sist.

"Oh!" cried Barbara, as an icy blast smote her in the face the moment she stepped out into the open.

"You had better run back and put something over your head," advised Ruth.

For answer, Barbara pulled out her handkerchief, binding this over her head. The two girls, after no little effort, succeeded in putting the curtains up, though the wind made their task doubly difficult.

Finishing, they ran into the house with benumbed fingers and cheeks aflame. They rushed to the nearest fireplace, to which they pressed closely until the odor of scorching cloth warned them to beware. Olive and Grace had come downstairs, for dinner was on the table. A tray had been taken up to Mollie, but she did not care to eat, and had soon after fallen into a restful doze.

"You haven't told us what you found in that great, deep hole," urged Olive, after they had been seated for some little time.

"Oh, I forgot," answered Barbara. "Everything has been moving so rapidly that I haven't had time even to think. I found--I mean Mr. Stevens found something. But I am afraid it doesn't help us much."

"Bob found something?" cried Olive. "Oh, tell us about it."