“I think you’re absolutely right,” Judy said emphatically. “Aren’t there some old trunks in the storeroom that you haven’t opened yet? Oh, Marjorie, do you suppose there’s another clue in one of them?”
“Let’s look anyway,” Marjorie said. “Tuesday when I was helping Ann Mary get the soiled linen ready for Mr. Taggart to take into town, I asked her if you and I couldn’t go through those old trunks some rainy day. And she said we could. She laughed at me and said, ‘You won’t find any treasure there. If you’re smart you’ll search for rare shells down by the lake.’ That’s how I got the idea of trying to find some which rich collectors might buy from us.”
“Well,” Judy said, “we didn’t find any worth bringing back to the Lodge. Let’s don’t waste any more time looking for rare shells. Let’s go show this clue to the boys.”
Marjorie hesitated. “Okay, but I’ll bet they just make fun of us. Jimmy won’t even consider that it just might be a clue.”
“But,” Judy objected, “he’s bound to realize that the message had something to do with the well and the Lodge. Let’s go.”
Marjorie carefully tucked the torn paper into the pocket of her blue jeans. Then they raced back to the Lodge.
Out in the shed the girls found that Jimmy, Alf and Brook had finished closing in the shower. They banged on the door and Jimmy called out in a dramatic voice:
“Who invades our privacy? This is the bachelors’ retreat and we want no women around here!” Marjorie heard him add in a loud whisper: “And especially not dimwit girls!”
She yelled at the top of her lungs: “Oh, come on out, Jimmy. Quit being so mean to us. We have something important to show you.”
But Jimmy was adamant. “You quit banging on the door, dopes. We’ll open it when we’re ready and not a minute before.”