“Perhaps,” suggested Neale, “he may have intended to leave some sort of memoranda about this hidden wealth—provided there really is any—and when his end came there was no time. Also he might have forgotten it.”
“Here’s another thought!” exclaimed Luke. Ideas were coming thick and fast now. “Mr. Stower may really have sent word to this man’s relatives or heirs about the chest of money in the cellar, and these scoundrels—Rother and Meggs—may have intercepted that message and be trying for the gold on their own account.”
“That sounds plausible, except that we’d have heard of the matter before this, I think,” admitted Neale. “But the first thing to do, I’m thinking, is to find out if there really is any gold in the cellar. After we get it, we can settle to whom it belongs.”
“That’s what I say!” chimed in Agnes.
“It may not be as far-fetched as I thought at first—Luke’s explanation is a good one,” observed Ruth thoughtfully.
“But it is silly to try to settle who owns a lot of gold you don’t even know there is,” declared Agnes. “Besides, I’m tired and hungry.”
“That’s well said!” cried Neale. “We’ll get home, have something to eat, and to-morrow we’ll have another go at this mystery.”
They found Dot and Tess in bed when they arrived. It had been a strenuous day Mrs. MacCall reported, for the three children (Sammy Pinkney being the third member of the trio) had gotten into all sorts of mischief.
“What was the worst thing they did?” asked Ruth.
“Well, they played ‘Plam Island,’ as Dot calls it,” reported the housekeeper, “and Sammy fastened that beastie of an alligator on the tail of Sandyface, the cat, to pretend, as he says, that the alligator was going to eat the cat up.”