"In there." Polly pointed to the back room, and without ceremony the four filed past and into the little living-room. Mrs. Deane was seated in a rocker, her spectacles pushed down on her nose, a paper across her knees, and her eyes fixed in smiling inquiry on the doorway.

Bob led the way. On the outspread paper he laid a brown envelop. "Wish you a Merry Christmas, ma'am," he said.

Laurie followed, deposited his envelop beside Bob's, repeated the greeting, and drew aside to make way for Nod and George. The Widow looked inquiringly from the stout envelops to the boys, smiling tolerantly the while. Boys were always up to pranks, and she liked them, boys and pranks both!

"What are these?" she asked, finally, when the fourth envelop lay in her lap.

Polly, looking over her shoulder, gasped as she read the writing on one of the packets, and her eyes, as round as round, looked across at Laurie.

"_Nod! They aren't-You haven't-_"

"Yes, they are!" cried Laurie. "Look and see for yourself! Open them, Mrs. Deane!"

Ten minutes later, when the first excitement had somewhat subsided, Polly clapped her hands.

"Why," she cried, "now we know what those sounds were we used to hear, Mama! They were Uncle Peter down there in the cellar! They were his footsteps! And only a little while ago I thought I heard sounds sort of like them! And that must have been you boys!"

"Of course," agreed Bob. "And we could hear you folks up here quite plainly. There goes my last hope of catching a ghost!"

"How many are there to share in the money, Mrs. Deane?" asked George.

"Dear me, I'm not quite sure." She looked inquiringly over her spectacles at Polly. "Weren't there seven, dear?"

"Eight, Mama."

"Well, even then it isn't so bad" said George. "One eighth of sixty-two-thousand-"

"Seven thousand seven hundred and fifty," announced Laurie, promptly.

"And the bonds may be worth more than we figured, ma'am!"

"Well, I'm sure," answered Mrs. Deane, "seven thousand dollars is seven times more money than I ever expected to see! I shan't know what to do with it." She looked quite alarmed and helpless for a moment, but Polly patted her shoulder rea.s.suringly.

"You must invest it, dearest, and then you won't have to keep this place any longer, because when I go to work-"

But, instead of vanishing, the Widow Deane's alarm increased. "Oh, I couldn't give up the store, Polly!" she gasped. "Why-why, what would I do with myself all day?"

"Yes'm that's so!" declared Ned, heartily. "Gee, you couldn't do that!

Why, we wouldn't have any place to buy cream-puffs!"

"I guess I would keep on with the store," Mrs. Deane concluded, when the laughter had subsided. "I'm afraid I'd never be very happy if I didn't have you boys around. Well, it's certainly very wonderful, isn't it, Polly?"

"It's-it's heavenly!" declared Polly. "This is just the most beautiful Christmas there ever was or ever will be! And I don't see how we can ever thank you all for finding-"

"Gosh!" exclaimed Laurie. "The Doctor's tree, fellows! We'll have to beat it! We'll leave the bonds here until to-morrow-eh?"

"But I want to see the tunnel and-and everything!" cried Polly.

"That's so! We'll come over after dinner. Come on, fellows! Neddie, come away from those tarts!"

"I was only looking," sighed Ned.

Mrs. Deane and Polly went with them to the door. Down the street the deep-toned bell in the Congregational church was ringing, and, farther away, other bells were joining in a chorus of glad triumph. Mrs. Deane, listening, held a very happy look in her face. On the sidewalk, Ned and Laurie dropped behind their companions, paused, and faced the doorway.

There was a quick exchange of glances between them, and then, bowing, Ned began and Laurie finished:

"A Merry Christmas and well-filled bins,"

"Is the hearty wish of the Turner Twins!"