“One of the cards that I left in the overcoat that was stolen!” exclaimed Dave. “He didn’t write this at all, Mrs. Basswood. That rascal stole my overcoat and some of these cards were in it. He simply pretended to write on it.”
“Well, I was sure it was your handwriting, and that made me feel easy about the fellow being you.”
“But you knew I was with Ben and the others on the sleigh-ride,” broke in Dave.
“Oh, I forgot to state that when he came in he explained that you were all stormbound at the hotel in Lamont and that, as the telephone and telegraph wires were all down, he had managed to get to Pepsico and reach Crumville on a freight train, doing this so that we and the Wadsworths would not worry, thinking the sleighing-party had been lost somewhere on the road in this awful blizzard.”
“And then you gave him the miniatures?” questioned Ben.
“I did. Oh, Ben, I know now how very foolish it was! But I was so upset! At first I thought to ask your father about it; but I was 157 afraid that to disturb him would make him feel worse, and I knew he was bad enough already. Then, too, I knew that Mr. Wadsworth was expecting some art critics to look at the miniatures, so I concluded it must be all right. I have always known the combination of your father’s safe, so it was an easy matter for me to open it and get the miniatures out. I told the young man to be careful of them, and he told me not to worry––that the miniatures would be perfectly safe, and that Mr. Wadsworth had promised to get the critic to set a fair value on each of them.”
“Was this Ward Porton alone?” asked Laura. The girls, of course, had listened with as much interest as the boys to what the lady of the house had to relate.
“No, he came in a cutter driven by a man who was so bundled up because of the cold that I could not make out who he was. As soon as I gave him the cases containing the miniatures the young man hurried off in the cutter, stating that the sooner the critic had a chance to see the paintings the better.”
“And what happened next?” questioned Dave, as Mrs. Basswood paused in her recital.
“I went back to assist a nurse who had come in, and all that night we had our hands full with my husband. We had to call in the doctor, and he was really not out of danger until noon of the next 158 day. I had wanted to tell him about sending the miniatures over to the Wadsworth house, but he was in no condition to be told anything, so I kept silent.”