“At least I didn’t miss anything,” she said as they hurriedly ate breakfast on the sunny porch. “Now, to find the buried treasure!”
But the whole day proved to be a tremendous disappointment. They finally dug all the way down to the bottom of the well and found absolutely nothing but mud. And the source of the spring had evidently gone dry.
“All that labor for nothing,” Pat said in a very disgruntled voice. “A wasted day.”
Everyone had pitched in and helped at various intervals, although Jimmy and Marjorie were the only ones who never gave up hope of finding gold pieces deep in the mud.
Wearily the men filled up the huge hole, and the rest of the week was spent in what Ann Mary called “fruitful labor.” The shed was converted into quite a presentable garage, and at last even Phil admitted that they were practically ready to open the Lodge for business. They were all so busy with final preparations they dismissed the night prowler from their minds.
Only Jimmy and Marjorie remained convinced that there was treasure buried on the grounds.
“What about the laundry situation?” Phil asked Penny the night before the first guests were expected. “Have you been able to cope with that?”
“I certainly have,” Penny told him proudly. “Several days ago a very pleasant-looking man who looks strong enough to carry any amount of damp linen, drove out to ask for the job. He’d heard in the village that we wanted someone to tote a huge bundle into the laundry-mat twice a week, and came right out without even waiting to telephone for an appointment with me.”
Phil looked puzzled. “I sort of took it for granted that you’d give the job to a woman.”
“I planned to,” Penny said, “in spite of what Pat said about anybody being able to work those automatic machines. But there just aren’t any women in the village who drive their own cars and who are free to help us out.”