The Automobile Girls at Chicago: or, Winning Out Against Heavy Odds

All at once she ceased laughing and sat up very straight.

"Nathan Bonner called on me at my office to-day. It was of that that I wished to speak with you, and that is why I asked the girls to leave the room." Mr. Presby was speaking.

"Did he wish to help you?"

"He intimated something of the sort. What he did want was permission to call on Olive."

"Oh!" The exclamation escaped Mrs. Presby unwittingly.

"And you told him – ?"

"No. Not with my permission. Bonner is a very rich man, Jane – and an unscrupulous one I am informed. I know little more about him, except that he has come to be an important figure on the Board of Trade. His rise has been phenomenal. I don't care for the man, however. I do not consider him the sort of man that Olive would like."

"You wish me to speak with her upon the subject?" asked Aunt Jane.

"No!" The word came out with explosive force. "The incident is closed. I am not so base as to consider for a moment the idea of my daughter making a rich alliance some day for the sake of retrieving our financial affairs. I am simply confiding the facts to you, that you may be governed accordingly."

Jane Presby rose, and, going over to her husband, kissed him tenderly on the forehead.

"You are a noble man, Richard."

"Has it taken you all these years to find that out?" retorted Mr. Presby testily.

"I have always known it," answered Mrs. Presby simply.

"What do you know about this Jack Howard's attentions to Olive?" he demanded sharply.

"They are childhood friends. Olive is still our baby, Richard. She has no thought of leaving us, I am sure. At least not in a long, long time."

Barbara, realizing that she was listening to a family conference, had suddenly shrunk back further into the corridor. She still could hear their voices. She retired further into the passage. Now their voices reached her ears in a confused murmur. The girl crouched down, waiting. The words of Mr. Presby had not made a very great impression on her, except that he had objected to one Nathan Bonner calling on his daughter. Who Nathan Bonner was Bab did not know.

Words, clear and distinct, spoken by Richard Presby, now reached Barbara plainly. He was speaking of another matter, one that was near to the heart of the "Automobile Girl" crouching there in the secret passage of the old mansion. Barbara's face blanched as she heard and understood what Mr. Presby was saying. She was powerless to shut her ears to the words. Mr. Presby's further remarks were brief. He rose and stamped from the room, followed a few seconds later by his wife.

Barbara crept forward to the panel, peered out cautiously to make sure that there was no one there, then, throwing wide the panel, stepped into the dining room, and, gathering her skirts about her, fled to her room on the next floor. She could hear the girls laughing and talking in Olive Presby's room.

Reaching her bedroom, Barbara Thurston threw herself on the bed, and sobbed as though her heart would break.

CHAPTER IX

IN AN INDIAN GRAVEYARD

IT was Olive who found Bab there. She halted in the doorway, gazing in in amazement.

"Why, Barbara Thurston! What can be the matter with you?" cried Olive. "We thought you were exploring the secret passages under the old house, and here you are crying all by your lonely little self. Where is Tom?" demanded Miss Presby, with growing suspicion in her eyes.

"I – I don't know," confessed Barbara weakly.

"See here, Bab, did Tom play any tricks on you?"

"Nothing of any account. He went out by some other exit. I returned the way I came. I am going back there to-morrow, if you do not object. I must solve the mystery of that secret passage."

"You are a dear!" exclaimed Olive, kissing Bab affectionately.

At this juncture Ruth Stuart came in, having heard Bab's voice as she was passing through the hall.

"Bab! When did you get back?" exclaimed Ruth. "Oh, I beg your pardon," she added, laughingly, as she discovered Olive and Bab engaged in serious conversation. "I see I am intruding."

"Come in, Ruth," answered Olive. "I found Bab crying here. I think Tom must have played pranks on her. Wait until I get my hands on the young man. You say you haven't seen him since you left the passage, Barbara?"

Bab shook her head.

"I shall find him at once," announced Olive, rising and starting for the door.

"Please, please don't scold him," begged Bab. "Really, it isn't that that is the matter with me." But Olive insisted and went on her way in search of the irrepressible Tommy. Ruth stepped over and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at Barbara.

"Now, tell me all about it," urged Ruth gently.

"There – there isn't anything to tell," murmured Bab.

"I know what the trouble is. You are homesick," declared Ruth Stuart. "To-morrow we have planned to give you an interesting day. We are going to explore the old place and I am going to take you to the Indian Cemetery. Quite likely some of the same gentlemen who scalped Olive's ancestors are buried out there. Bab, do you love me just the same as you used to?" asked the girl, bending a questioning gaze on Barbara's tear-stained face.

"You ought not to ask me that question, dear," answered Bab. "You know I do. It seems to me that I have known you for ever and ever so many years. Perhaps our friendship began in some other life. Sometimes I think it must have. But you haven't acted quite the same of late. It has seemed to me that you didn't love me as dearly as you used to and the thought has hurt me, oh, so much, Ruth."

"Why, Bab Thurston, how can you say so?" exclaimed Ruth. "I love you better than any other girl I've ever known. You ought to know that. The truth of the matter is that I am worried, dear. I have not been quite myself of late. I'm worried about father. Was – was it that that made you cry, dear?"

"Not exactly. I was crying because – because I felt sorry for you and – and for – "

"For whom?"

Barbara shook her head and closed her lips firmly.

"I shan't say another word. Please don't ask me. I want to think. If you don't mind, I am going to bed. Must I go downstairs first?"

"No, child. You tumble right in. I will tell the folks you are not feeling quite well. I want to speak to Olive before I go to bed, anyway."

"Tell them that I am going to bed, please."

"Yes."

"Please also say good night to Mr. and Mrs. Presby for me, won't you?"

Ruth said she would do so, and hurried from the room. She stopped in Olive's room to tell the other "Automobile Girls" not to disturb Bab, who had gone to bed feeling a little indisposed.

On the following morning matters appeared to have adjusted themselves to the satisfaction of all, for the girls were in their brightest mood. Bab now and then grew sober and thoughtful, but strove to throw off the feeling of depression that persisted in taking possession of her.

"I have a note from father," announced Ruth. "He says Mr. A. Bubble has entirely recovered. There were some broken bones, but these have been mended. Bubble is to be returned to us to-day, and then we will have a jolly ride."

"I sincerely trust there will be no gates in the way this time," observed Mrs. Presby, smilingly.

"Never fear. I have had my lesson," answered Ruth, flushing a little. "I never thought it would be possible for me to get into so much trouble with a motor car. Shall we show the girls the Indian burying ground this morning?"

"You take them, Ruth, if you will, please," answered Olive. "I must help mother with some family matters. You know more about the old cemetery than I do."

They started out shortly after breakfast, full of keen anticipation. Just outside the house Tom joined them. He had with him Olive's big setter dog, "General." Bab pinched Tommy's ear playfully.

"You were a naughty boy last night," she said.

"But you didn't find out where I got out, just the same," jeered Tom.

"No, but I am going to."

"I'll bet you don't."

"I shall. See if I don't. By the way, Tom, have they found out yet who closed those gates the night we ran into them?" asked Barbara carelessly. She and Tom had fallen behind the others.

"No-o-o-o," answered the boy, giving her a quick glance. Bab's face told him nothing.

"I suppose you haven't the slightest idea who could have done that?"

"How should I know anything about it?"

"I thought perhaps you might have done it; you are such a very smart young man," observed Barbara soberly. "Couldn't you even guess?"

"No. Could you?"

"I don't have to guess."

Tommy regarded her shrewdly.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't have to guess because I know. You closed those gates, Tom Presby. You thought it would be a good joke to fool Olive and Ruth and the rest of us. I'm not sure but that you thought you would be taking a proper revenge on poor me for sitting down on you that night at Stuarts' house. You came near causing the death of five girls with what you thought only a prank, young man," added Bab, in her most severe tone. "I should think you would be ashamed of yourself."

Tommy's face grew very pale. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead.

"Don't tell father. Don't, please don't. He'd skin me alive if he knew I did that. How'd you find out?"

"You told me," answered Bab, now with a merry twinkle in her eyes. "I guessed it first, then you admitted it just now."

"That was a mean trick. Nobody but a girl would take such a mean advantage of a fellow."

"Nobody but a mischievous boy would intentionally cause an automobile smash-up and endanger the lives of five girls, including his sister," rebuked Barbara. "What do you think I ought to do with you?"

"You aren't going to tell the governor? Oh, don't say you are. I'll do anything for you! Say, I like you better than all the rest, Bab. Honest and true I do. I'll show you how I got out of the hole last night if you won't give it away. I'll show you everything I know about the old place. You aren't going to squeal on a fellow, are you?"

"No, Tom, I'm not," answered Bab, laughing heartily. "Nor am I going to ask you to show me the exit from the secret passage. If I can't find it out for myself, I don't want to know."

Tommy regarded her admiringly.

"Say, you're a good sport, aren't you? I'll show you anyhow, for that."

About this time the setter dog, General, attracted the attention of the girls by diving into a hole in the base of a great tree that stood some little distance from the house. Nothing but his tail was visible. Tom soon had a firm grip on this and was hauling the angry General out to the accompaniment of merry shouts from the girls.

Ruth explained that this tree was an old landmark. It had been there ever since the oldest inhabitant could remember. It was known as "Old Sentinel," having stood sentinel over Treasureholme for at least a hundred years.

"What is in that hole?" demanded Bab.

"General's buried treasure," answered Tom carelessly. "He hides his beef bones there."

Now they moved on together, making an attractive picture as they walked. Grace and Ruth were the only ones of the party who wore furs. Mollie wore her heavy dark-blue traveling coat, with a gentian-blue scarf tied about her throat. Bab, with a scarlet wing perched at a jaunty angle in her brown cloth hat, reminded one of a robin redbreast.

"You don't think you will catch cold?" asked Ruth solicitiously.

Bab assured her that they would not, to which Ruth made no reply, though she hugged a dark Christmas secret closer to her heart and chuckled inwardly.

"There is the old burying ground," she announced finally, pointing to a succession of hillocks a short distance ahead of them. These were of a mushroom shape, with the tops sloping gently to the ground. The girls thought them the most curious-looking graves they ever had seen. They observed a very large mound in the centre. Ruth explained that this was supposed to be the grave of an Indian chief.

"If that is true, his weapons and his faithful dog are buried beside him," continued Ruth. "These graves, I believe, are very old. No one appears to know just how old they are. Do you wish to see the rest of them?"

The girls did. Mollie suggested that perhaps if they remained there long enough they might possibly meet the ghost of the old chief.

"What would you do if we should?" questioned Ruth whimsically.

"I'd run," answered Mollie promptly.

"I rather think the rest of us would not be slow in following you," agreed Ruth.

"I should think the Presbys would feel spooky all the time with so many queer things about them," observed Grace. "There's mystery all over the old house, and there are goodness knows how many dead Indians and things on the outside."

"Only girls are afraid," spoke up Tommy.

"Only girls?" questioned Bab, with a significant glance at the boy. Tommy subsided instantly. Then all of a sudden General stiffened his tail, uttered a low, menacing growl and stood pointing his nose in the direction of a mound that reached higher than any of the others.

"What is it, General?" asked Ruth, gazing in the direction of the point.

"He smells somebody," volunteered Tommy. "Don't be afraid. I'm here," he added, swelling out his chest.

"It's a man!" cried Mollie. "He's there hiding behind that mound. I saw him peer over the top just now. Oh, let's run. Hurry, girls!"

Tommy cast a withering look at Mollie and, whistling to the dog to follow him, trudged toward the mound in question. Bab promptly followed him, with Ruth not far behind her.

CHAPTER X

MEETING A TREASURE HUNTER

GENERAL made a leap over the high mound. There came a growl, then a sharp bark.

"Down, General!" commanded a manly voice.

A young man wearing rough clothes and a broad-brimmed soft hat, from under which looked out a pleasant face, appeared, facing the girls.

"I beg your pardon," he said. "I thought perhaps you might not see me. You are from the house yonder. I know Miss Stuart by sight and the General and myself are old friends."

The young man stuffed some papers into his pockets. As yet none of the party had spoken.

"Hello, Bob. Is that you?" greeted Tommy.

"Yes. You caught me this time."

"You bet I did!"

"Won't you introduce me to your friends, so I may apologize to them for my peculiar actions?"

"Oh, they're only girls," answered Tom airily. "What are you doing here?"

"I am Robert Stevens, young ladies. I live near by. The Presbys are friends of mine."

The girls were beginning to feel more at ease. He was not a desperate character, after all. Their adventure had ended in nothing more than meeting a friendly neighbor. Ruth stepped forward at this juncture.

"I am on a treasure hunt," said Stevens, smiling sheepishly.

The girls were on the alert on the instant.

"Treasure hunting!" exclaimed Barbara. "Where are your pick and shovel?"

"Oh, I haven't gotten that far yet," laughed Bob.

The girls decided that they liked Mr. Bob Stevens, and what was more, they were keenly interested in his statement that he was hunting for the lost treasure.

"I may as well be frank with you," he said, flushing. "Ever since I was Tommy's age I have hoped to find some day the fabled pot of gold, or whatever the treasure may be. My grandfather before he died gave me maps and diagrams that he had made. He was as mad on the subject of the buried treasure as the rest of us," explained Stevens. "It was his idea that it would be found not far from the lake. He thought the Presbys had naturally planned to return by water for the treasure in case they had to flee from the fort. I have worked the ground near the lake thoroughly. Now I am trying this strip of woods, working out from these Indian mounds."

"Is the trail hot or cold?" questioned Bab.

"Very cold. Almost colder than the atmosphere to-day. Still, I have hopes."

"If you were to find the treasure what would you do with it?" demanded Ruth severely.

"Do with it? Why, I should turn it over to its rightful owner," answered Stevens. "It's the sport of the search that interests me. You did not think I would keep what doesn't belong to me, did you?"

The girls murmured their apologies.

"Please tell Mr. Presby that you found me here. Perhaps I had better go back with you. May I?"

"Come along, Bob. Father will be glad to see you," said Tom, answering for them. The girls offered no objections, so the young man accompanied them, walking beside Tommy and General.

"You young ladies might be interested in looking over those old maps and diagrams," suggested their new acquaintance.

"Indeed we would," agreed Barbara enthusiastically.

"Another thing I'd like to say, if you will permit me. Were I in your place, I wouldn't go into the woods back there alone. There are people hanging about this estate who are little better than tramps."

"What do you mean?" asked Grace.

"The news has been circulated that the Presbys are going to lose the old place. There are a choice lot of gentlemen nosing about here hoping to get a clue to the treasure before another owner takes charge. I heard yesterday that some fellow from the city is planning to put men to work here systematically. I don't know how true it is."

"They wouldn't dare to dig for treasure on another man's property," retorted Ruth indignantly.

"They wouldn't have to dig until they had located the treasure. Then they might dig it up in the night and be off before anyone else was the wiser."

"I don't believe there is any danger in our going where we please about these grounds. I have been here a good many times, Mr. Stevens, and you are the first stranger I have ever met on the grounds," declared Ruth.

"There are two men back there in the woods now," answered Bob carelessly.

The girls stopped short and stood gazing at the forest that lay beyond the Indian burying ground.

"Are you sure of that?"

Stevens nodded.

"I saw them," he replied, "watching you all the time you were coming toward the mounds. I was watching them, though they didn't know that."

"Why don't you speak to Mr. Presby and have him put them off the premises?" demanded Barbara.

"It wouldn't do any good. The fellows would take good care to keep off the place while a search was being made for them. There's Miss Olive waiting for you."

"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Stevens? I am glad you are with the girls," said Olive. "Father was disturbed when he found they had gone over to the Indian mounds alone. He said it wasn't safe to do that. Have you met my friends, Mr. Stevens?"

"In a somewhat unceremonious fashion," laughed Stevens.

"Father wants to see you. I'll venture that I can guess how you chanced to meet the girls," smiled Olive. "Now confess that you were treasure hunting."

"I confess. Where may I find your father?"

"In the library. Go right in."

Bob Stevens promised the girls that he would show them his diagrams after he had finished his conference with Mr. Presby. Then, raising his hat to them, he set off toward the house. Mr. and Mrs. Presby were fond of Robert Stevens. He was of good family, and well educated for a country boy. His people were comfortably situated and Robert's ambition was to help his friends, the Presbys, find the treasure that he never had doubted was hidden somewhere on the estate.

But the girls did not see him again that day. Ruth's motor car had arrived by the time they reached the house. The girls ate a hurried luncheon and set off for a long ride before the two men had finished their conference. It was almost dinner time when they returned with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, greatly invigorated after their drive. A. Bubble had behaved himself splendidly. Ruth said he worked much better than before the accident. Bab suggested that it might be an excellent idea to have him collide with a pair of stout iron gates at regular intervals.

Bob Stevens had left his maps and diagrams for the girls to look over, which they did after dinner. They were unable to make anything out of the lines and figures of the treasure hunter. Mollie declared that the man who made them must surely have been insane.

For an hour after dinner the Presbys and their guests chatted in what was called the drawing room, a long, low, barn-like apartment, almost rustic in its fittings and furnishings. The dining room being cleared, Olive called the girls there. They found the room in darkness save for the light shed by the fire in the fireplace and five candles arranged on the sideboard.

"One for each girl present," explained Olive.

"To light us to bed?" questioned Mollie.

"No, indeed," smiled Olive. "Bedtime is still a long way off. We are going to have a feast by candle light."

"I couldn't eat another mouthful after the dinner we had to-night. It would be a physical impossibility," declared Bab.

"Don't make any rash assertions until you see what I have provided for you in the way of a feast," replied Olive, as she took a large, flat tin box from the lower compartment of the old-fashioned sideboard. "Ruth," she continued, "if you will draw the rugs up close to the fireplace we will lose no time in beginning the festivities."

Ruth Stuart did so, arranging the rugs in a semi-circle. But the interest of the girls was centred on the tin box, not on the rugs, just at that time. Then Olive brought out five long, slender white sticks, which she distributed among the girls.

"Aren't you going to open the box?" begged Grace anxiously. "Can't you see we are dying with curiosity to know what is inside?"

"Bab, you may open the box."

The cover was off almost before the words had left Olive's lips.

"Marshmallows!" cried the girls in chorus. "Oh, isn't that simply glorious?"

"And such a lot of them, too," added Grace Carter.

"Five pounds," Olive informed them. "We are about to sit down to a marshmallow toast. Eat all you wish, but for goodness sake do not make yourselves sick."

"She means you, Mollie," teased Ruth.

"The coat doesn't fit me, however," retorted Mollie. "But I do love marshmallows. Do we toast them over the flames of the candles?"

"No," replied Olive, as she placed the five-pound box of sweets on the rug between them and the fire. The girls sat down on the rug, with their feet curled under them. Each speared a marshmallow and thrust it close to the fire. Little blue flames rose from the white cubes and a tantalizing odor filled the air.

"Oh, dear me. Mine's gone into the fire," cried Mollie in distress. "It just melted away."

"So did mine," answered Barbara, "but it melted in my mouth."

"How nice of you to think of this, Olive. Thank you ever so much," glowed Grace Carter.

"This isn't my treat. My part is to carry out the little surprise. Mr. Stuart sent out the marshmallows to me, asking me to give you girls a toast. It is a real treat, isn't it?"

"Glorious!" breathed the girls.

"Did you children ever do fire-gazing?" asked Olive after a moment of silence as the girls helped themselves to the sweets.

The "Automobile Girls" confessed their ignorance of the game. Olive explained that each girl was to gaze into the fire then describe what forms or figures appeared to grow out of the flames or coals.

"I see a red automobile," cried Mollie, almost as soon as she had fixed her gaze on the fire. "And, oh, look at the man driving it! He is all in red, wears a pointed beard and has a cloven foot. Isn't he a frightful looking creature?"

"Your imagination needs no encouragement," declared Olive. "Let us hope that the gentleman with the cloven foot may drive his car up the chimney flue and fly away. What do you see, Ruth?"

"I see a fiery pit with a lot of imps dancing about, hurling balls of fire at each other."

"Your turn, Barbara."

Bab was gazing at the fire in wrapt attention.

"I see a black chest, but I can't see what it holds, for the cover is down. There goes the cover! Oh, look, girls! See the gold and the sparkling jewels! See the golden coins glitter in the light of the fire! Oh, oh, oh!"

"Money? Money? Where?" cried Mollie. "I want some of that money."

The spell was broken in a merry laugh. Mollie laughed, too, then turned her gaze toward the window, for her eyes were smarting from the heat. Suddenly her face took on a frightened expression, the color fading from it.