Ruth sprang up, trembling, and with clasped hands.
“Oh, Mrs. Eland!” she cried, “‘Washington & Pittsburgh’—and he meant railroad bonds, of course! It must be! it must be!”
“Well—but—my dear!” said Mrs. Eland, amazed by Ruth’s excitement. “Of course, Uncle Lemuel may have meant that. However, there are no bonds of any kind pasted into these books. I am sure of that,” and she laughed again, but rather ruefully.
Ruth Kenway could not join in her laughter. She had made a tremendous discovery—and one that filled her with actual terror. She scarcely knew how she managed to excuse herself from the hospital matron’s presence, and got out upon the street again with Tess and Dot.
CHAPTER XXI—“EVERYTHING AT SIXES AND SEVENS”
“I do declare,” said Agnes Kenway, that very evening. “We don’t seem like ourselves. The house doesn’t seem like our house. And we’re all at sixes and sevens! What ever is the matter with Ruthie?”
For the eldest Corner House girl had spoken crossly to Tess, and had fairly shaken Dot for leaving a chocolate-cream on a chair where she, Ruth, sat down upon it in her best dress, and finally she had flown out of the sitting room in tears and run up to bed.
“And Neale didn’t stay to eat supper last night, and he hasn’t been here to-day,” grieved Tess.
“Here’s all his Christmas presents,” said Dot. “Don’t you s’pose he wants them a-tall? Is Neale mad, too?”
“I’m afraid Ruthie is coming down with something—like Sammy Pinkney with the scarlet fever,” Tess said, in a worried tone.