“It takes up exactly the same amount of space as one of those oblongs,” she cried out, as her observing eyes traveled the length of the table end. Having spent so much time on the antiquated desk she was naturally much interested in the mechanics of the secret drawer Bee had discovered.
“Never mind the drawer now, Mab. You can play with it later. We’ll leave it open. If we were to shut it, very likely we couldn’t open it again.”
This from Patsy, who was impatiently longing to start a reading of the old diary.
“Be seated, ladies,” she merrily ordered. “Miss Patricia Carroll has kindly consented to read you a few interesting excerpts from the diary of one Sir John Holden. Goodness knows who he was. We’ll know more about him after we’ve read what he’s written about himself.”
“I thought you told us you two hadn’t read the diary,” playfully accused Eleanor. “You seem to know all about it.”
“We read only the first page,” Bee explained. “We didn’t go on with it because we wanted you girls to be in on it, too. There’s nothing stingy about us.”
“So I observe. We are nothing if not appreciative.”
“This was the room of old Manuel,” irrelevantly remarked Dolores. She had been silently listening to the girls’ lively chatter, her great dark eyes roving curiously about the spacious room.
“It was!” Bee exclaimed. “That’s interesting to know. It explains why Rosita paid us those two midnight visits. She may have thought Manuel de Fereda had found the treasure and tucked it away in his room. Are you sure this was his room, Dolores?”
“Si.” Dolores wagged an emphatic head. “Once Eulalie showed it to me. We came only to the door. Still I remember. It was truly his room.”