Part 16 (2/2)

Ruth made a wry face.

”We will explore for the treasure if we have to stay in the house all the time,” said Bab. ”A day like this makes one feel mysterious.”

”And creepy,” added Mollie. ”Why, good morning, Tommy. How are you to-day?” she smiled, as Master Thomas Presby took his place at the breakfast table. Tommy grunted out some unintelligible reply. For some reason he was not in the best of humor that morning.

In the meantime Olive was trying to think up some entertainment that would amuse the girls on a stormy day.

”I have it,” she cried. ”How would you girls like an attic party?”

They did not quite understand, never having heard of an attic party.

”What do we do at an attic party?” asked Mollie. ”Do we have luncheon in the attic?”

”No. It is an entirely new idea with me. My idea is that we go to the attic and rummage. There are old chests and trunks up there, together with all sorts of odds and ends, as is usual with a family garret.”

The girls beamed on her.

”That will be perfectly splendid,” cried Mollie. ”Remember, Bab, how we used to rummage in our garret on rainy days?”

”It will be a great fun,” answered Bab.

”As we fear we may have to leave the old place,” continued Olive, ”we wish to overhaul everything up there, burning such stuff as we have no use for, saving anything that may be of use in the future. You girls can help me clear out the place.”

”Am I in on this game?” interrupted Tom.

”Yes, if you will behave yourself,” replied Olive, giving him a severe look.

”I can carry out the stuff that you want burned,” he suggested.

Such willingness on the part of Tommy was unusual. Olive gave him a smile of approval.

”You shall have some more marshmallows for that,” declared Ruth.

A pained look appeared on the boy's face.

”I don't want any marshmallows,” he growled. ”No more girls' food for me.”

The ”Automobile Girls” giggled. Mr. and Mrs. Presby paid no attention to this conversation. They were not in possession of the secret. The girls were eager for the attic party. There is always an element of mystery in an old family garret. This was especially so at Treasureholme.

Everything about the old place savored of mystery. Then there was the buried treasure, which, even though it might be a myth, lent an atmosphere of greater mystery than all the rest.

Little time was lost in getting to the garret, the girls first, however, putting on the oldest skirts they possessed. Olive explained that the place was full of dust and cobwebs.

Tom hurried upstairs ahead of them. They followed a winding, narrow stairway to the upper floor. To their surprise, the ceiling was high, the side walls were heavily wainscoted, an unusual condition for a garret. A broad chimney pa.s.sing up through the centre of the big room took the edge off the chill atmosphere of the morning, although they could hear the wind whistle and wail about the gables. There were shadowy corners holding old-fas.h.i.+oned trunks. Here and there were old family pictures in faded, chipped frames, old clothes, curtains, books, broken and old-fas.h.i.+oned furniture, in short, a varied and ancient collection of odds and ends that almost filled the place.

”Oh, girls, isn't this jolly!” exclaimed Bab, halting at the head of the stairs, taking in the scene eagerly. ”I know we shall have a perfectly splendid time up here, and who knows but that we may unearth some of your ancestors' family skeletons, Olive?”

”Tom will dispose of them promptly if you find any,” answered Olive.

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