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

"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.

"That's just like girls," he jeered. "Why didn't you get him a rifle or an automobile or something that he could do something with? I'd rather have a pair of rubber boots than all of that truck."

But Bob Stevens was well pleased. He was greatly surprised, for he had not looked for presents. The candy pull had been forgotten. The girls were too happy in their new possessions, though Barbara Thurston was a little troubled over the magnificence of the gifts for herself and Mollie. She did not think Mr. Stuart should have given them such expensive gifts. In spite of the happiness of the day and evening a shadow overhung the entire party at Treasureholme. Perhaps Barbara Thurston felt it more deeply than any of the other girls. And instead of lightening the shadow was to grow deeper before the night was ended.

CHAPTER XVIII

BAB'S EXCITING DISCOVERY

A CHORUS of "Merry Christmas" was heard as the clock in the hall struck the hour of midnight. Olive was seated at the piano. As the strokes of the old clock ceased, she touched the keys softly, then began to sing. The girls knew the song. They joined with her, raising their sweet, young voices in the Christmas anthem:

"Hark the herald angels singGlory to the new-born King!Peace on earth, and mercy mild,God and sinners reconciled!"

Ere the song ended, Ruth's father had slipped away. He had been profoundly stirred. Ruth saw him go. She stole away after him. It was half an hour later that Barbara, on her way to her own room, where Mollie already had gone, saw Ruth's door slightly ajar. Bab tapped lightly. Ruth's voice bade her enter. But Bab shrank back when she saw Mr. Stuart sitting there. His face was drawn and sad. There were tears in Ruth's eyes. Barbara could scarcely keep back her own tears, so keenly did she feel for these two whom she loved so well. The girl stammered an apology and drew back.

"Bab, dear, come in," called Mr. Stuart.

"Yes, do. We need you. Perhaps you may be able to make daddy smile. I can't, because I have no smiles left in me."

"I – I am afraid I haven't, either," answered Barbara, with trembling lips. "Hadn't I better go to my own room? Perhaps you wish to talk undisturbed."

"We want you here," answered Mr. Stuart. "Please close the door and sit down." Bab walked to the centre of the room, where she stood leaning against a table gazing down on them questioningly. Ruth nestled on her father's knee with an arm thrown affectionately about his neck.

"My dear," he said, addressing Barbara, "I have just been telling Ruth that this may be the last Christmas that she will be able to have all her heart craves. I mean in the way of luxuries. My business affairs are in a very bad way. You already know that Mr. Presby has no hopes of being able to pull through. When he goes, I go. We shall go down together. We have been speculating in wheat. We have loaded up so heavily that I see no possibility of getting out." He paused reflectively while the lines of his face grew haggard.

"You mean you are going to lose all you have?" almost whispered Barbara.

"Yes. Instead of the price of wheat going up, as it should have done at this season of the year, wheat has been forced down and down by a strong bear market. Behind it all there is a powerful but mysterious force, a master brain that is forcing the price down and seeking to ruin us."

"Have you no idea who is doing this – who your enemy is?" asked Barbara.

"Nothing more than a vague suspicion. You see, the trading is done largely through others. There is no one man, so far as we have been able to discover, who is crowding us, forcing us to load up and to hold at a frightful cost to ourselves. We know, however, that there is an individual force back of this movement. Richard has mortgaged his property to the last cent. After the first of the year, unless there be a turn for better in his affairs, Treasureholme will be taken away from him. After the first of the year I shall be a ruined man financially."

"Mr. Stuart," said Barbara in a steady voice, "I felt that you should not have spent all that money on those beautiful gifts for us. I feel even more strongly about it now. Won't – won't you please take them back? Oh, you understand what I mean," cried Barbara, flushing hotly as she saw his gaze fixed inquiringly upon her.

"Yes, my dear, I do. And I thank you. You are a noble girl. But even such a sacrifice on your part would do no good. A few hundred dollars would make no difference. I wanted Ruth and her friends to have a happy Christmas; I wanted you all to be remembered as you deserve. As it is, I have not done all that I had wished to do."

"Oh, you have done too much!" exclaimed Barbara.

"I wanted you as well as Ruth to understand just how matters stand. I feel better for having unburdened my mind."

"Would it help you in the least if you were to know who this man is who is driving you and Mr. Presby to failure?" asked Bab.

"It might help somewhat, thought it may be too late. Had I known a month ago I might have succeeded in turning the tide against him."

"Oh, daddy, give it up! It's a dreadful business," begged Ruth.

"I am afraid I shall have to, whether or not I wish to do so. I agree with you that it is a dreadful business, and if I get out of the woods this time, I am through with speculation. Now, children run along. I wish to talk with Mr. Presby. He awaits me downstairs."

Mr. Stuart kissed both girls, but clung to their hands a moment as he gazed into their eyes. Then he released the hands and moved toward the door. Ruth and Barbara stood watching him until Mr. Stuart had passed from their sight and they heard him descending the stairs.

"Good night, dear. I can't talk any more to-night," said Ruth, controlling her voice with an effort.

"I – I am afraid I can't either," answered Bab, with averted eyes.

She left the room rather hurriedly, closing the door behind her. For a long time after Barbara had left Ruth Stuart's room, she lay in her own bedroom on a lounge staring straight up at the ceiling. Mollie was asleep, her golden head barely visible above the tops of the covers. "If I could only do something for these good friends," murmured Bab. "But what can a girl do? I wonder how much money it would take to save them? It would take a lot, I know."

After a time Barbara got up to get her handkerchief. She had dropped hers in Ruth's room. On the dresser lay Barbara's hand bag, the one she had carried with her on her way from Kingsbridge. She had not used it since, Ruth having bought her a very handsome bag in Chicago during one of their shopping expeditions. Bab remembered that there was a handkerchief in the bag.

Opening the bag, she drew out the handkerchief which lay under some other articles. As she did so something white fluttered to the floor a few feet from where she was standing. Barbara wiped her eyes, then stood regarding herself in the mirror. She saw that her own face was troubled and that her eyes were red, as though she had been weeping. Then she stepped over, picking up the handsome coat that Mr. Stuart and Ruth had given her for Christmas. With a sigh Bab laid the coat down, smoothed it out and began preparing for bed. She had given no further thought to the little piece of white cardboard that had slipped from her handkerchief a few moments before. Bab was in bed, snuggling down by Mollie, very shortly afterwards, with the lights turned off. The girl lay staring into the darkness until her weary eyelids closed and she dropped off to sleep.

When Barbara awoke the following morning Mollie was still sleeping soundly. Bab, however, rose at once, still rubbing her eyes and trying to recall something that had been troubling her when she went to sleep. Suddenly it all came back to Bab in a flood of disagreeable recollection.

Barbara took her time at making her toilet, thinking deeply as she brushed her thick, fine hair before the mirror. The girl had half turned to call Mollie when all at once she caught sight of the bit of pasteboard lying on the floor.

"I wonder what that is? I remember seeing something fall from the bag last night."

She picked up the card, glanced at it carelessly and was about to toss it on the dresser top when suddenly Bab uttered a little gasp. Her hand trembled. She gazed with staring eyes at the name on the card. "Mr. Nathan Bonner," she read.

For the moment Bab continued to stare.

"The man in section thirteen," she murmured. Bab tried to recall what had been said about Nathan Bonner, but she could not remember. She knew only that what she had heard had left an unpleasant impression on her mind. It was Nathan Bonner whom she had seen in the Pit at the Board of Trade. She shuddered as she recalled the almost demoniac expression on that hard, cruel face. Then all at once the conversation that she had overheard while lying in her berth in the sleeping car on that eventful night came before her.

"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Barbara under her breath.

"What ever is the matter with you, Bab?" demanded a voice from the bed.

"Oh, Molliekins, I've made such an exciting discovery. But I can't say a word about it. I must find Mr. Stuart this very minute. I must hurry. I haven't a moment to lose. Oh, I do hope I am not too late!"

CHAPTER XIX

A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT

BARBARA had slipped on a kimono and was starting for the door.

"Aren't you going to kiss me good morning?" pouted Mollie.

Bab ran back, throwing her arms about Mollie, giving her sister a quick embrace and kiss; then she hurried from the room, going straight to Ruth's bedroom. To her surprise, she found Ruth Stuart fully dressed. The girl was sitting before a window staring out at the whitened fields.

"Oh, Ruth, I'm so glad I found you awake. Do you know whether your father is up yet?"

"Yes. Why, dear?"

"I must see him at once. I have important information for him. You will excuse me, won't you, if I run down to see him? Is he downstairs?"

Ruth shook her head sorrowfully. There was no laughter in her eyes this morning. She seemed very different from the bright, carefree Ruth of old.

"Father is not here, Bab."

"No-ot here?" gasped Bab.

"No; he left on the seven o'clock train for Chicago this morning. After an all-night conference between him and Mr. Presby, it was decided that daddy must go into the city early this morning to see that Mr. Thompson whom you girls met at the wreck of the car on your journey to Chicago. I don't know what it is all about, but I suspect it is money," concluded Ruth with a trace of bitterness in her tone. "When I think how happy you girls are in your little home without wealth, I sometimes wish I had never known luxury. But what did you want to see father about?" demanded Ruth suddenly.

"I – I wanted to tell him something. Oh, please don't ask me now, Ruth, dear. Is – is he at home or at the office?"

"At home, I think. The office will not be open to-day, this being a holiday."

"Then I am going to Chicago to see him," declared Barbara firmly.

Ruth gazed at her incredulously.

"You can't mean that?"

"But I do."

"Alone?"

"Unless Aunt Sallie will accompany me. I would rather she did not to-day."

"Bab, I don't know what you have in that little head of yours, but I do know that is it important. You are not flighty, like myself. You need not tell me what is it that is troubling you, but if you wish, I will go to town with you."

"Oh, will you really go with me, Ruth?" cried Bab, her face expressing her relief at Ruth's declaration. "Then let's get ready at once."

"You forget that we have Aunt Sallie to reckon with first, Bab," reminded Ruth.

Miss Sallie for a time gave promise of wholly defeating Barbara's plan to go into the city to see Mr. Stuart. However, after Bab had taken Miss Sallie into her confidence, the latter gave a reluctant consent. Ruth knew her way about so well that there would be no possibility of getting lost, and then they were going to her home, which made the journey seem less undesirable than it might have under other circumstances.

The result was that Ruth and Barbara took the nine o'clock train for Chicago that morning amid loud protests from Olive, Mollie and Grace. Ruth regretted that the man had not come out with Mr. A. Bubble that morning. She hoped, however, that they might find the car at home. Perhaps her father intended to drive out in the car that night. However, Barbara's mission being so urgent, the best thing to do was to take a train for Chicago at once.

From the station in Chicago the girls proceeded quickly to the Stuart home. Mr. Stuart was not at home. He had not been there, but had called up on the telephone to say that he would try to be home for luncheon. Ruth went to the telephone and called up her father's office. Mr. Stuart's secretary, who had been called there to do some important work that day, said his employer would be in in half an hour. Bab announced her intention of going to the office, urging Ruth not to trouble to accompany her, as her friend had several matters to attend to at home.

"Very well," answered Ruth, after a moment's reflection, "I will call a taxicab. I'll tell the driver exactly where to leave you. You must make him wait for you, then you can come straight back here. I know you want to see daddy alone, but I'm not a bit jealous," she added, giving Bab's pink cheek a loving pinch. "Daddy will be surprised to see you. You probably will be in time to take luncheon with him down town. I don't believe he will be home for luncheon now, it's getting so late. It's too bad that our Christmas dinner at Treasureholme had to be spoiled first with father's going away, then you making up your mind to rush down to Chicago. Tell me, dear, have you an idea in that little head of yours that you can help father in his present difficulty?" questioned Ruth earnestly.

"Yes, I have," admitted Barbara, "But I would rather not tell you anything about it. You might make fun of me and convince me that I was foolish. I might be afraid to go to Mr. Stuart in that event, fearing he might make fun of me, too, but – "

"Not father! There is the taxicab. I'll go out and tell the driver what I wish him to do." Ruth hurried out with her friend, giving the driver such directions as she had decided upon.

The drive to the building in which Mr. Stuart's office was located occupied not more than fifteen minutes, for, this being a holiday, the streets were reasonably clear of the heavier vehicles that usually interfere with the traffic. Barbara knew the building, having been there before. She therefore found no difficulty in making her way to the office. The driver, acting upon Ruth's orders, waited below.

But Bab again was fated to be disappointed. Mr. Stuart had not yet returned, his secretary informed her. Barbara decided to wait awhile. She inquired as to where she might find Mr. Stuart, but the secretary could not say. He informed her that there were important business conferences on for that day, though Mr. Stuart might be looked for at any moment.

Bab went down and dismissed the taxicab, then returned to the office to wait. An hour went by, and still Mr. Stuart had not returned. So she entered into conversation with the not unwilling secretary by asking him if he knew Mr. Bonner, a Chicago broker.

"Yes, I know him. Is he an acquaintance of yours?" he asked curiously.

"I've met him. Where is his office?"

The secretary told her, then added:

"You're not going to see him, are you?"

"I must see Mr. Stuart," replied Barbara evasively. "I'd better go, for he may go home without returning to the office."

"That may be," said the secretary. "If he comes in, whom shall I tell him called?"

"Miss Barbara Thurston," she answered, as she hurried away.

Bab had some difficulty in getting past the clerks in the outer room, but was finally ushered into Mr. Bonner's private office.

Bonner looked pleased when he saw his visitor, but he evidently failed to recognize her.

"I'm Miss Thurston, the girl who saved your life perhaps in the wreck some time ago," she announced boldly and according to her plan.

"Of course! How stupid of me! I owe a great deal to you, Miss Thurston."

"You can do a great deal, Mr. Bonner," put in the girl quickly. "I've come to ask that you keep your promise to me."

"Let me see, was it a box of bon-bons?" questioned Bonner lightly.

Barbara ignored this and asked bluntly:

"Why do you insist on ruining Mr. Stuart and Mr. Presby?"

"Please explain yourself," said Bonner harshly, taken off his guard and flushing hotly.

Barbara did so, in girlish fashion.

"Young woman, did Robert Stuart send you to intercede for him?"

"Oh, no! He would be displeased if he knew that I had come here to-day."

"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 gratitude 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 flushing.

"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 assist 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."

No one stopped to question the probability of Barbara's deductions. Bob summoned a man who worked for him, sent a boy to get two more from Treasureholme, and, taking picks, shovels, and a coil of rope, drove off with the girls in Mr. A. Bubble as fast as they could go to the Indian burying ground. It was nearly dark when they reached there and sprang from the car, neither Bab nor Bob waiting for it to come to a full stop.

"William, bring me something I can drive in here for a marker," Bob called to his man who was hurrying toward them from the direction of the woods.