CHAPTER XVII
THE GRIFFIN AND THE ROSE
Although the Hartleys had practically given up all hope of ever finding the hidden money, they couldn’t help being imbued with Patty’s enthusiasm.
Indeed, it took little to rouse the sleeping fires of interest that never were entirely extinguished.
But though they talked it over by the hour there seemed to be nothing to do but talk.
One day, Patty went out all by herself, determined to see if she couldn’t find some combination of an oak tree and a group of firs that would somehow seem especially prominent.
But after looking at a score or more of such combinations, she realised that task was futile.
She looked at the ground under some of them, but who could expect a mark of any kind on the ground after nearly forty years? No. Unless Mr. Marmaduke Cromarty had marked his hiding-place with a stone or iron plate, it would probably never be found by his heirs. Search in the house was equally unsatisfactory. What availed it to scan a wall or a bedstead that had been scrutinised for years by eager, anxious eyes? And then Patty set her wits to work. She tried to think where an erratic old gentleman would secrete his wealth. And she was forced to admit that the most natural place was in the ground on his estate, the location to be designated by some obscure message. And surely, the message was obscure enough!
She kept her promise to help Bob in his self-appointed task of going through all the books in the library. This was no small piece of work, for it was not enough to shake each book, and let loose papers, if any, drop out. Some of the old papers had been found pinned to leaves, and so each book must be run through in such a way that every page could be glanced at.
Nor was this a particularly pleasant task. For Mrs. Hartley had made it a rule that when her own children went over the old books, they were to dust them as they went along. Thus, she said, at least some good would be accomplished, though no hidden documents might be found.