“Here!” exclaimed the Frenchman, as he ushered his new friend into his humble home. “Here are the ladies. I have brought you a fellow countryman,” he added, nodding to his guests.
Two girls, whose pretty faces bore worried looks, arose to confront Professor Snodgrass. He bowed, rather flustered as he always was in the presence of women, and then, as he looked intently at the girls, a strange look came over his face.
“Excuse me,” he murmured, as he reached for something in his pocket. He took a card from an envelope and, looking at one of his companions, asked:
“Are you Gladys Petersen?”
“I am!” was the surprised answer. “But how––” 240
“And are you Dorothy Gibbs?” went on the little scientist, turning to the other.
“That is my name, but––”
“Then I have found you,” said the little man quietly. “My name is Snodgrass, and I have a letter to you from your uncle, Professor Emil Petersen. He leaves you half his fortune and me the other half. I have been looking everywhere for you, and now I have found you. But I wish the boys were here.”
“What boys?” asked Miss Petersen.
Without answering this question the professor explained his errand, and told of his long search for the girls, to their no small astonishment. They were shocked to hear of their uncle’s death, but they had, long since, given up all hope of ever sharing in his wealth, even though he had become reconciled to them after the deaths of their parents.