“Well never know, nor will anyone else. If there’s really a treasure buried in the woods behind the beach it will probably stay there forever,” predicted Mabel.
“I guess it will,” agreed Patsy. “I know we’ll never hunt for it. I can imagine Auntie’s face if I proposed digging up those woods to find it. I wonder what she’ll say about this journal? It’s a treasure in itself. It really belongs to you, Bee. You found it.”
“Yes; but in your room,” reminded Beatrice.
Nevertheless she looked rather wistfully at the little sheepskin-covered book. It was indeed a treasure worth having.
“I’ll offer it to Auntie, Bee,” Patsy replied, noting the wistful look in Bee’s eyes. “We ought to consider her first. If she doesn’t care for it, it’s yours.”
“Oh, no, you keep it,” protested Bee. “I couldn’t accept it, really.”
“We’ll settle that later. Oh, I forgot! We haven’t looked at the folded paper yet that fell out of the book.”
Patsy turned to the table and picked up the forgotten paper.
“It’s a letter,” she informed. Then her face clouded. “It’s written in Spanish,” she added disgustedly. “You can read it, Mab, I suppose.”