I suppressed a giggle. The pride of Scotland Yard, called in as a last resort, to solve a baffling crime, couldn’t have spoken with more importance! “But gracious, Hamish,” I exclaimed, “there’s nothing to see!”
“Just let me have a look at that letter,” he continued, “so’s I’ll get the measurements straight.”
Eve came out with the refreshments. “Hamish,” I said, with I fear, a trace of sarcasm, “is going right out to dig up the treasure!”
“He’ll have to wait for me,” declared his sister. “I’m going to have some tea first.”
Hamish’s eyes lighted on the cookies. “Oh, well,” he said and sat down.
It ended finally in our producing the letter and then all piling into the car and driving out to Craven House. Neither Eve nor I was willing to let Hattie May and, her brother go without us. But I did wish that Michael were along, somehow it seemed his affair as much as ours.
Hattie May went into ecstasies over the house and, most of all, over the garden. “My dear,” she cried, “I think it is absolutely the most romantic place. Can’t you just see that old miser bringing his gold and jewels out here on a dark night——”
“But he wasn’t a miser,” I protested. “And he didn’t have any gold.”
“Nonsense, you needn’t tell me,” she retorted. “He buried something, didn’t he?”
“Well, we don’t actually know——” I began, but Hattie May had disappeared after Hamish into a thick growth of underbrush.