“Then we’ll regard it as settled,” said Arden. “I’m so glad I thought of this, and so glad you mentioned having it in the Hall, Dot. Things are looking distinctly brighter; in fact, they begin to shine!”
“In spite of the fact that we haven’t solved the mystery,” added Sim.
“But we shall!” predicted Harry. “I’m going to be around here for some time after Christmas on that bird-sanctuary business, and the mystery is going to be solved before the birds settle down.”
“Let us help,” suggested Arden. “Don’t forget we had ‘firsties,’” she finished, dimpling like a little girl.
“I’ll let you help, gladly,” Harry answered. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”
“Well, if we’re going riding, let’s go!” proposed Sim. “Poor Dick is waiting. Probably he wants the commission he’ll get out of our business to buy Christmas presents with.”
The girls scurried out to get into riding togs. Harry Pangborn was wearing what would be all right for his ride as the rig had been chosen for his woodland work. He looked well in windbreaker coat, cap, leather puttees, and his knickers were genuine Scotch plaid.
Sim, before going to dress, sent Moselle to tell Dick to bring around four horses and then supplied Terry with books to read in bed while she would be alone.
“Sure you won’t be lonesome?” Sim asked, smoothing down the spread.
“Not at all. I shall probably read myself to sleep,” Terry promised.