Part 12 (1/2)

Slowly the girl's latent faculties aroused themselves.

”You hurry up and dress while I go and watch,” panted Ellen. ”Be quick's you can, or we may miss somethin'.”

She went out, closing the door; but in a few moments her niece heard her shrill call:

”They're comin' out with it! What'd I tell you? Two of 'em have got it, carryin' it across the lawn. Ain't you 'most dressed?”

”Yes, I'm coming.”

Fastening her belt as she went, Lucy hurried to her aunt's side.

Amid the sparkling, dew-kissed glory of early morning, she could plainly see the three Howes making their way through the wet gra.s.s in the direction of their pasture.

”Bless me! if they don't mean to sink it in the brook!” whispered Ellen.

”Oh, I never can stand this. I've got to foller 'em an' find out what they're doin'.”

”You wouldn't!” exclaimed Lucy in dismay.

”Indeed I would,” her aunt retorted. ”I'd go to any length to see what's in that bag. If they were younger----” she broke off abruptly. ”Anyhow, it's somethin' they're ashamed of, I'm certain of that. They couldn't 'a'

murdered anybody, I s'pose. Bad's I hate 'em, I'd hardly think they're that wicked. Still what can it be?”

”I can't imagine.”

”Well, I'm goin' to track 'em down, anyhow,” Ellen announced. ”Ain't you comin'?”

”No.”

To spy on the actions of others did not appeal to the younger woman's honest mind.

”You can get breakfast while I'm gone then,” Ellen said, catching up her coat, ”and if I don't come back pretty soon, you go ahead and eat yours.

I'd a thousand times rather ferret out what those Howes are tryin' to bury than eat. I'd be willin' to starve to do it.”

CHAPTER VII

THE UNRAVELING OF THE MYSTERY

LEFT to herself Lucy stood for an instant watching her aunt's resolute figure make its way under the fringe of lilacs that bordered the driveway.

Then she turned her attention to preparing breakfast, and the Howes and their mysterious doings were forgotten.

In the meantime Ellen walked on, skirting the shelter of the hedge until she came into the lee of a clump of elder bushes growing along the margin of the brook at the juncture of the Howe and Webster land. Here she secreted herself and waited.

The brook was quite deep at this point and now, swollen by the snows that had recently melted on the hillsides, purled its path down to the valley in a series of cascades that rippled, foamed, and tinkled merrily.

As she stood concealed beside it, its laughter so outrivaled every other sound that she had difficulty in discerning the Howes' approaching tread, and it was not until the distinct crackle of underbrush reached her ear that she became aware they were approaching. She peered through the bushes.

Yes, there they were, all three of them; and there, firm in their grasp, was the mysterious bag.

It was not large, but apparently it was heavy, and they handled it with extreme care.