“How did you know, Linda?” demanded Dot, picking up the yellowed packet. “That’s exactly what it is! What was your grandfather’s name, Helen?”
“Henry Adolph Tower,” replied the girl. “I never knew that he left a will. Is it his?”
“Yes. Oh, come on over here, Linda—give me your flashlight. It’s getting dark in here again. Let’s read it!”
So busy had the girls been that they had hardly noticed the fading light until they tried to read the words on the written and printed pages. But they had not started from Lake Winnebago until three o’clock, and the flight had been a considerable distance.
Breathlessly, Dot read out the formal, legal words of the will, picking her way slowly among the unfamiliar terms. But there could be no doubt about the contents. Henry Adolph Tower had left the house and grounds and the sum of one hundred thousand dollars in bonds and cash to his granddaughter Helen, and a bequest of five thousand dollars to Mrs. Smalley. A Trust Company in Chicago had these in keeping until the will should be probated.
Helen’s eyes were gleaming and her cheeks were flaming. She simply could not believe her good fortune. Oh, if she could only tell dear old Nana about it, this very minute!
“Now aren’t you glad we came up here?” demanded Dot.
“I should say I am,” she replied. “Oh, Linda—and Dot—you have done so much for me!”
“What’s that queer smell?” asked Linda abruptly changing the subject.
“Something’s burning,” said Dot.