The Automobile Girls at Chicago Part 27

"Miss Thurston, I admire your pluck. I, not being responsible for Mr.

Stuart's or for Mr. Presby's speculations, can of course do nothing for you in this. If I could, I think my grat.i.tude to you for saving my life would take a personal form. This is business, and in that each man fights for himself. By the way, how did you get the notion that I am in any way responsible for Mr. Stuart's misjudgment on market conditions?"

"I chanced to overhear your conversation with your friend 'Jim' on the sleeper."

"So you played eavesdropper! I would not have thought it of you, Miss Thurston."

"It was impossible not to hear; but when you mentioned Mr. Stuart's name, I listened, call it what you please."

"I presume you told Robert Stuart what you heard," he responded, again flus.h.i.+ng.

"No, Mr. Bonner--not yet."

With the words, Barbara rose and ran out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Her face was aflame and she was trembling.

When she reached the street she decided to walk for part of the distance, so that she would have time to quiet her agitation before she should reach the Stuarts' home. It was growing dark before she realized that she would have to take a taxi or the Stuarts would be very much worried about her.

"Oh, Bab, where have you been? We've been frightfully worried," cried Ruth. "Dad's home, and he said his secretary told him you'd left the office about three o'clock."

"I started to walk, and forgot how late it was, Ruth."

Mr. Stuart, who had come into the hall in time to hear the conversation and noting how tired Bab looked, said:

"Come to dinner now, and Barbara can tell us things later."

When dinner was over and they were seated around the library fire, Barbara turned to Mr. Stuart and said:

"I can tell you the name of the man who's fighting you and Mr. Presby, Mr. Stuart. Will the knowledge do you any good?"

"You, Barbara! How can you know this? It would have helped a month ago, my girl; I fear it is too late now."

Bab's heart sank. Was what she had done--and it had been hard for a girl to do--in vain?

"Why does Mr. Nathan Bonner hate you?"

"Nathan Bonner started, a green boy, as a clerk in my office. I thought him worthy and helped him, but finally found it necessary to dismiss him."

"Yes, he's crooked," said Barbara. Mr. Stuart started and looked at the girl in amazement; so she settled back and told him the story of the trip to Chicago in detail. "He mentioned your name, Mr. Stuart. He also said that because I had saved his life, he would a.s.sist me if I ever needed aid. To-day he refused."

"To-day! Where did you see Bonner?"

"Oh!" Only then did Barbara tell her host how she had spent the afternoon.

"My dear, you're a very imprudent girl. Nevertheless, you have done me a service for which I can never give you adequate thanks," said Mr.

Stuart, his voice husky with emotion.

CHAPTER XX

CONCLUSION

THE next morning after breakfast, the girls, bundled in furs, left the house for their ride to Treasureholme. Mr. Stuart had done what he could by telephone, but had not yet gone downtown, for there was nothing further to be accomplished until the opening of the market. Just before he helped the girls into the car he thrust a finger into his vest pocket and said:

"I almost forgot. The men at the garage found this in the bottom of the car. I think it's your lost memorandum, Barbara."

"Oh, thank you! I'm so glad!" cried Bab.

"Ruth," said Barbara, after the girls had reached the outskirts of the city, "do you think there really is a hidden treasure and if we could find it your father----"

"I haven't much faith in the treasure, and if one should come to light, it would be Mr. Presby's and not father's."

"Mr. Presby would use it to help himself, and that would draw your father out, too."

"Bab, you ought to be on the Exchange; you'd make a good trader,"

laughed Ruth. Then she went on: "No, Bab, I'm afraid we'll lose all we have. I don't care for myself. I can be poor, just as daddy and my mother were once. But I grieve for father."

"Ruth, darling," whispered Bab.

On their arrival at Treasureholme the girls found that Mr. Stuart had telephoned to Miss Sallie about what Bab had tried to do for her two hosts. The girls tried to make a heroine of her, but she steadfastly refused to think she had done anything extraordinary.

When Barbara was finally alone in her room she drew out of her pocket the slip of yellow paper, spread it on her lap and regarded it intently.

"'The span of a minute is sixty seconds,'" she read. "What can that mean?"

She got up and paced the floor thinking deeply, trying to solve the meaning. She at last went to a window and spread the paper on the pane for the purpose of getting a better light on it. Her gaze, at first careless, suddenly became keen. All at once she whirled about and dashed from the room.

"Girls, I have it!" she screamed, bursting in on the others, who were in Ruth's room. "I've solved the mystery! I've found the key! We must get Mr. Stevens! We mustn't lose a minute! Everything's at stake!"

"What is it, Bab? Are you certain?" demanded Grace, springing to her feet.

"Oh, I can't tell you now! Let's get Mr. Stevens, can't we?"

"Mr. A. Bubble!" cried Ruth, and flew from the room.

The girls rushed pell-mell for the car, dragging Miss Stuart with them, none knowing what Bab had in mind, but all eager and excited. Ruth drove at top speed, and the girls burst in on Bob Stevens whom they found in his shop.

"See this!" cried Bab, holding the bit of paper out to the young man.

"Put it against the window." He did so wonderingly, then turned and looked at the girls. "What did you see?" demanded Bab impatiently.

Bob had seen a line drawn from the top of a toadstool extending to the right. At the end of the line was the sign "60".

"What do those little marks after the sixty mean?" demanded Bab.

"On building plans they would mean inches. Expressing time, they would indicate seconds."

"You have it! If we face the woods and start to measure from the top of the 'toadstool,' that undoubtedly represents the mound under which lies the big chief, and measure off 'sixty seconds' which means sixty inches, or five feet, we'll find the treasure."