"Who's going to tell?" asked Morland huffily. "What a fuss you girls make about nothing. The cave might be full of diamonds instead of only shells!"
"Only shells, indeed!" Claudia's tone was belligerent.
"I wish you'd both help me to collect some shells," put in Lorraine, trying to patch up peace. "I want some more desperately badly for the museum."
A duty which Lorraine had undertaken during the holidays was the arrangement of the school museum. She was the curator, but during term time she was so fully occupied that she had never been able to sort and label the specimens which the girls had brought to her. The whole collection had been so far stored away in boxes. Now, however, Miss Kingsley had set apart special premises for the museum. There was an unused room at The Gables that in the days of former tenants had been occupied by the coachman. It adjoined the house, but was approached by an outside staircase from the yard. It had been filled with lumber, but Miss Kingsley had had this cleared away, the floor had been scrubbed, and some old desks moved in to serve as cases for the specimens.
Miss Kingsley and Miss Janet had gone away for Easter, and the servants were also taking a much-needed rest. The Gables therefore was shut up for the holidays, though the charwoman, who lived in a cottage close by, went in to scrub and clean. Before leaving, Miss Kingsley had given Lorraine the key of the museum, so that she might enter it when she wished, quite independently of going to the house.
Lorraine spent very happy mornings there—sometimes alone, sometimes with Claudia to help her. With the aid of natural history books from the school library, she identified and labelled the specimens to the best of her ability. It was a quiet kind of work that appealed to her. She felt that the room was going to be a tremendous acquisition to the school. All sorts of treasures could find a home on the walls, secure from the meddlesome fingers of juniors. She intended to keep it as a sort of sanctum for the monitresses, and had visions of holding committee meetings there, and bringing tea in thermos flasks.
One morning she had arranged to spend a little time at the museum and to meet Claudia, who had promised to come and help her. The trysting-place was the old windmill, and Lorraine stood there waiting. Claudia was late—the Castleton family were always late for everything—and Lorraine walked impatiently up and down the road. Footsteps coming round the corner made her turn expectantly. To her surprise, the new-comer was not her friend, but her uncle, Mr. Barton Forrester.
"Why, Uncle!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing up here? I thought you were so busy at the office?"
"So I am; and I ought to be at work now. This is what comes of being a special constable! There's a pretty to-do to-day! The telephone wires have been cut, and the job is to discover where!"
"The telephone wires cut!" echoed Lorraine. "But who has cut them?"