The Automobile Girls at Chicago Part 14

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.

"h.e.l.lo, 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."