“Ho, Doris, who was the chap that just went by?” Bob called—but before the girl could reply, something else happened to attract their attention. Bertha, in the kitchen, was crying in dismay: “Where is the cook? What has she been doing? We’ll have to discharge her. I’m thinking. The bacon is burned to a cinder.”
Doris, thankful indeed for this timely interruption, ran into the kitchen and declared remorsefully: “Oh, isn’t that too bad, and I suppose you are all hungry as bears, but luckily I brought an extra supply. Throw that out, Bertha, please, and I’ll get some more.” Then, as she searched in her basket, she added hurriedly: “I suppose I left it burn while the sheriff was here.”
“The sheriff!” was the surprised chorus.
“Why, what did he want?” Jack asked. “He didn’t suppose that we had the highwayman here as one of our guests, did he?”
Doris purposely did not look at any of them as she put the strips of bacon into the pan which Bertha had prepared. “Oh, Sheriff Ross and his men were just passing by,” she said with an effort at indifference, “and so he thought he would stop and ask us if we had any idea where the bold robber might be.”
“He is wasting his time,” Bob declared. “I am positive that Dorchester holds his man by this time.”
Peggy and Dick Jensen entered the kitchen at this moment and the girl exclaimed: “Oh, Doris, I’ve had bad luck. I broke one of my straps, but since you aren’t going to skate today, may I take one of yours?”
What could Doris say? How could she explain the absence of her skates? She was busy at the stove and she pretended that she had not heard, but before the other girl could repeat her question, Bob called: “Here’s one for you, Peg. I always carry an extra strap in my pocket.”
Doris again breathed a sigh of relief, but it was a short one, for, a second later, she thought of something which set her heart to throbbing wildly.
The bag of gold! She had hidden it under a cushion on one of the chairs when the sheriff was knocking.