This fortune was somewhere—so Ruth believed—in the possession of a thoughtless, if not really dishonest, boy. A thousand things might happen to the treasure trove Neale O’Neil had borne away from the old Corner House.
No matter whether it were Neale himself or another who made wrong use of the money or the bonds, if they were lost it would be a catastrophe. Neither the Corner House girls, nor whoever properly owned the book, would ever be benefitted by the odd find in the garret of the Stower homestead.
Who the actual owner—or owners—of the treasure was, Ruth could not imagine. But that she was the proper custodian of the album until Mr. Howbridge returned, the girl was quite sure.
She dared take nobody into her confidence until their guardian came home. Least of all could she talk about it to Agnes. And on her part, Agnes was quite as loath to speak of the matter, in earnest, to Ruth.
What Joe Eldred had said about Neale and his heavy satchel really alarmed Agnes. A hundred thousand dollars! A fortune, indeed.
“Goodness me!” Agnes thought. “Neale is never silly enough to believe that the money is real, is he? Impossible! Yet—why did he carry the old thing off with him?
“It bothers Ruth—I can see that. I don’t know what idea she’s got in her head; but surely both of them can’t be mad about that money and those bonds. Goodness! am I the only sensible one in the family?” the flyaway asked herself, quite seriously.
“For I know very well that stuff in the old album is nothing but ‘green goods.’ Maybe somebody, years ago, used it dishonestly—used it to fool other people. And suppose Neale is fooling himself with it?”
For it never entered the loyal Agnes’ mind that her boy chum was other than the soul of honesty.