“We can begin in the house,” I said; “begin at the farthest corner of the garret, and work right down to the cellar.”
“That’s a big job,” said Dick, and sighed.
“I know it is; but I’m beginning to believe more and more that Mr. Chester was right, and that the treasure is somewhere in the house. We’ll begin to-morrow.”
“Oh, we can’t begin to-morrow,” said Tom.
“Why not?” I questioned, sharply, impatient of the least delay.
“Why, to-morrow’s May-Day,” he explained, “and the children at the Fanwood school are going to have a big time. We’ll all have to go—as distinguished guests, you know. Father and mother are going, and so is your mother. It’s to be a kind of picnic—a May-pole and all that sort of thing.”
“Very well,” I said, seeing that their hearts were set upon it; “we’ll go, then;” but I must confess that I did not enjoy the day, which, under other circumstances, would have been delightful. But in the midst of the gayety, clouding it, rising above the laughter, the thought kept repeating itself over and over in my brain that only fifteen days of grace remained. “Only fifteen days, only fifteen days,” over and over and over. It was with absolute joy that I climbed, at last, into the buggy to start homewards, and I could scarcely repress a shout of happiness as we turned in at the gate and rolled up to the dear old house.
As soon as lessons were over next day, the search of the house began. The refrain had changed a little: “Only fourteen days—only fourteen days!” it ran now. Fourteen days! Thirteen days! Twelve days! How I tried to lengthen every one of them; to make every minute count! And how useless it seemed. For we made no progress; we were apparently not one step nearer the solution of the puzzle than we had been at first. We opened boxes, ransacked cupboards, explored dim crannies under the eaves, turned drawers upside down—disclosing treasures, indeed, which at another time would have filled me with delight, but, alas! they were not the treasures we were seeking! From the garret to the second floor, then to the first floor, then to the cellar—we turned the house inside out, did everything we could think of doing, short of tearing it down, and utterly without result! At last, mother interfered.
“You children must sit down and rest,” she said. “You will make yourselves ill. Cecil is getting nervous and positively haggard.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” I said; “I wouldn’t mind anything, if we could only find the treasure.”