"Yes, he found a metal box in the chimney. In it there was a watch that belonged to your scalped ancestor--I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have said that. Your father has the watch. Well, inside the back case was a tiny slip of paper with the funniest picture you ever saw. There was some writing beneath the picture. I'll show it to you. I believe it means something, but I can't understand it at all."

"All rubbish," observed Mr. Presby. The master of the house already had shown the watch to Mrs. Presby, and had explained the manner of its finding by young Stevens.

Bab was searching through her pocket for the slip of paper. She had her handkerchief in her hand, together with some other articles that the pocket had held. Going clear to the bottom, she groped with eager fingers. Her face grew a shade paler.

"You haven't lost it?" begged Ruth.

"Oh, I am afraid I have!" gasped Barbara, turning her pocket wrong side out. "I--I must have dropped it in the garret. May I be excused while I go up to look for it?"

Receiving permission, the girl ran hurriedly up the garret stairs, first having s.n.a.t.c.hed up one of the lanterns. She searched the garret floor, paying especial attention to the spot where they had been standing when discussing the find. She found no trace of the missing slip. Next Barbara examined every inch of the stairs, then entered Mollie's room on tip-toe, but with no better success. Every nook and corner where she could remember to have been on both floors was searched in vain.

"I think I can tell you where you lost it," volunteered Ruth Stuart "You took out your handkerchief to put over your head when we were outside covering the car. You must have pulled the paper out with the handkerchief."

"Then I must go outside and look for it," wailed Bab. "I simply mustn't lose that paper. It may mean everything to you all. Oh, I must find it."

"Silly! You won't find the paper if it has been dropped out of doors. On a night like this it has probably blown far away," interposed Olive.

"Don't worry. It isn't worth it. Hunting for the Treasureholme treasure brings nothing but tears. Forget it all and be your own bright little self."

Barbara Thurston struggled with her emotions for a few heart-breaking seconds, then burst into tears.

CHAPTER XVII

A LONG-REMEMBERED CHRISTMAS

THERE had been an air of new mystery about Treasureholme for the last three or four days. Packages large and small, all addressed to Mrs.

Presby had been delivered from the city. Mysterious conferences were being held between Mrs. Presby and this and that girl. Each of the "Automobile Girls" appeared to be bursting with the burden of the secret she was carrying about with her.

The explanation of all this mystery was that it then lacked but two days to Christmas. Bab had in a measure recovered from her disappointment and chagrin at losing the slip of paper found in the chimney, and strange to say she had wholly forgotten the words that were written on the little slip. All the information that Robert Stevens could give her was that it was something about a "minute." The excitement under which all hands were laboring at the time of the find, perhaps might be blamed for their short memories. However, there was no help for the disaster now. The coming holiday served to take their minds from the subject of the buried treasure, though now and again Tom brought in reports of having seen strange men in the grounds out near the woods. One evening the girls had been frightened almost to the verge of hysterics by discovering a man peering through the window of Olive's sitting room upstairs, while the girls were chatting after the others below stairs had gone to bed. A ladder found on the outside explained how the man had gotten to the window. That his spying had something to do with the mad hunt for the treasure, they had no doubt. In this instance their screams, aided perhaps by the bottle of smelling salts that Olive had instantly hurled through the window upon catching sight of him, had driven him away.

Christmas eve at last was at hand. The air without was crisp and clear, within all was cheer from the blazing fireplaces, with decorations of holly festooned with ribbons in all the downstairs rooms. The dining room had been cleared as soon as possible after dinner, for it was there that a Christmas tree was to be set up, there that the presents were to be distributed to the "Automobile Girls" and various members of the family. Excitement ran high. Bob Stevens had been invited to join in the festivities, which included a mola.s.ses candy pull and games appropriate to the occasion.

Seven o'clock had just boomed out on the grandfather's clock in the hall when there came a ring at the door. The girls, with ears alert, heard a familiar voice greeting Mr. and Mrs. Presby. Down the stairs rushed the girls, with Ruth in the lead, crying at the top of her voice:

"It's my daddy! Oh, it's my dear daddy!" Ruth flung herself into her father's arms. She had not seem him in more than two weeks. The rest of the girls rushed up to Mr. Stuart, each giving him an affectionate hug, for to them he seemed almost as much a father as he did to Ruth.

Barbara's heart sank as she stepped back to take a good look at Mr.

Stuart. His face was positively haggard. Ruth had observed this in the first glance and two great tears dropped from her eyes to Mr. Stuart's shoulder as she clung there.

"Dear daddy. Don't take it so hard. You have me," whispered Ruth. This brought a momentary relaxation to the tense muscles of the speculator's face.

Barbara was shocked at his appearance. He seemed to have added years to his age since last she saw him. Mr. Stuart observed her inquiring gaze fixed upon his face. He smiled rea.s.suringly, well understanding that she had noted the change in him. Then, to divert Bab's thoughts, he pinched Mollie's dimpled chin.

"How is my little Molliekins since her adventure in the lower regions of Treasureholme?" he questioned.

"My stock went down that day. It hasn't come up yet," answered Mollie brightly.

"I am afraid you are not alone in that experience," laughed Mr. Stuart.

"Am I right, Richard?" addressing Mr. Presby. Mr. Presby nodded solemnly. "By the way, Ruth, the chauffeur will drive your car out in the morning. I heard all about that last drive of yours from the people of Bright.w.a.ters. I expect my little girl will break her neck and at the same time her dad's heart one of these days."

"I am not afraid for the first, but I shouldn't like to be responsible for the latter," answered Ruth soberly.

"To-night we won't think of serious subjects. We are to make it a real holiday, eh, Richard?"

"That is our plan. We want the 'Automobile Girls' to enjoy themselves.

It makes us happy to see them so happy. I've never seen Olive more happy than she is to-night."

Olive was radiant. She, like her girl guests, was dressed in white, with a sprig of holly pinned to her waist. Faces were flushed, eyes sparkling. They were a happy, joyous lot of young women. Olive stole into the drawing room that at her direction the servants already had cleared of rugs, moving the furniture to the sides of the room. The only light there was from the blazing fireplace. Olive sat down at the piano.

"Come on, everybody!" she called, striking up a lively two-step.

The "Automobile Girls" ran for the drawing room. With them went the older members of the party. Ruth grabbed her father and led him a giddy dance. Bob Stevens claimed a dance with Bab. Mr. Presby's gouty foot would not permit his joining in the frolic, so Bob very thoughtfully cut short his dance with Barbara, dancing a few minutes with each of the other girls. Thomas Warrington Presby was turning handsprings in a corner of the room, and, being in the shadow, he was not disturbed in his antics.

Soon after this Mrs. Presby appeared at the door.

"Children," she called. "You are invited to come to the dining room. I do not think a second invitation will be necessary."

It was not. There was a grand rush for the dining room, followed by a chorus of "ahs" and "ohs" as they caught sight of a real, old-fashioned Christmas tree, all alight with candles, glittering with spangles, many-hued b.a.l.l.s and yards and yards of sparkling frosted fringe. At its top and hovering over it, floated a cherub, supported by an invisible wire suspended from the ceiling. At the base of the tree were the presents. There seemed to be a whole truck load of them. Some very large packages excited the curiosity of the girls, but what caused the most merriment was a huge red automobile, made of wire and red paper. The automobile was filled with red roses, both being the gift to the "Automobile Girls" from their friend, Mrs. Cartwright.

It fell to the lot of Mr. Stuart to distribute the presents. There was a rifle for Tom, small gifts for all the girls from Mrs. Thurston, Mrs.

Presby and Miss Sallie, who had come over earlier in the day, having spent most of her time thus far in getting the gifts ready for the presentation. Bab and Mollie gave each of their friends drawn-work handkerchiefs and some small pieces of embroidery, all their own work, to Miss Sallie and Mrs. Presby. As yet the large packages that held so much of mystery had not been opened.

Ruth finally slipped over and whispered to her father. He nodded. At that she hurried to the tree, dragging the largest of the packages out into the light. Mr. Stuart cut the strings, Ruth being too impatient to untie them. A great heap of tissue paper, that piled high on the floor, gave promise of something good. Ruth drew out a long, black object which she ran over and placed in Barbara's arms.

"There, you dear! That should keep you warm," she said. "This is from father and myself."

Barbara stared at the object that lay across her arms. It was a three-quarter length Persian lamb coat. Barbara was too astonished to catch the meaning of it all.

Aunt Sallie took the coat from Barbara's arms, turned the girl about and slipped the coat on.

"Oh-h-h!" gasped Bab, catching sight of herself in a mirror. "No, no, I can't accept it. It is--isn't right, Ruth--Mr. Stuart. Oh, you shouldn't have done this! I didn't look for anything but some simple little gift.

But this lovely coat. Oh, Mollie, Mollie." Bab's eyes were swimming.

"Never mind, Molliekins," twinkled Mr. Stuart. "There is something in the other package that I think will please you equally well. Ruth, aren't you going to give my little golden-haired girl her present?"

Ruth flew to the second large package, the strings of which had been cut by Mr. Stuart. From this package Ruth drew forth a coat exactly like Barbara's, for Mollie. Two caps of the same material were placed on the heads of the Thurston girls. Mollie needed no urging to put her coat on.

She slipped into it, then began dancing about the floor, regardless of whose toes she stepped on. Fortunately for her, she missed Mr. Presby's gouty foot.

"Now what do you think of yourselves, you dears?" questioned Ruth.

"Splendid!" cried Mollie.

Barbara shook her head, though her flushed face reflected the happiness she felt. She glanced questioningly at Grace. The latter was smiling with no trace of envy in her pleasant face. Then came Grace's turn. She, too, received a coat and cap, these being of gray squirrel. Olive's surprise was a set of silver fox furs, with a stole that reached almost to her feet.

Ruth was last. Mr. Stuart opened a velvet case, then slipped a slender gold chain about the neck of his daughter. From the chain was suspended an exquisite pearl pendant. For Bob Stevens there was a handsome scarf pin from the Presbys. The girls' gifts to the young man were gloves and ties, a silver-handled pocket knife and other odds and ends that caused Tommy to sniff disdainfully.