We were approaching the house. “Want to stop and have a look?” Michael inquired teasingly. “Might pick up a clue—collar button or whatnot! Don’t you think?”
“Oh, no, I don’t think we’d better,” I began hurriedly, though I knew as I said it that it was useless.
“Of course we must stop,” Hattie May declared. “Hamish would never forgive me if I neglected a single clue!”
“We-ll,” said Eve doubtfully, “I don’t suppose it would really do any harm just to run in for a minute. So long as we don’t have to catch the bus,” she glanced doubtfully at me.
I shrugged. “Do just as you like,” I said, “but don’t expect me to explain things to Aunt Cal!”
“Leave Aunt Cal to me!” Eve laughed lightly and began to climb down from the wagon. Without enthusiasm I followed her and once more found myself making my way over the wall, across the yard toward the tangled garden. It was getting to be a habit, I reflected. It almost seemed as if some unknown force kept drawing us back to the old house and its secrets.
Michael pointed out the place where a new hole had been dug nearby where we had discovered the first one, and apparently hastily filled in again. Could it be that Bangs had returned?
“You’d hardly think he’d dare hang around,” Eve said thoughtfully.
“It just shows how badly he wants that treasure,” Hattie May cried. “He’s willing to take any risk.”
“Wish I could think of a way to get my flashlight,” Michael said, glancing toward the house. “I think I’ll just have a try at those cellar windows on a chance,” he added. “Be right back.”