“How silly,” she exclaimed, “What are we to do with this thing? Why couldn’t she have waited a minute?”
“Because she didn’t want the men to know she had the box, goosey,” answered Nancy. “It’s as plain as the nose on your face. What does the card say?”
It was a man’s business card and read:
“Pierre Lafitte, Avocat,
Rue——21. Paris.”
On the back of the card had been painfully written with a pencil:
“I knew when you were gone so long that you would be too late. If you are merciful and kind, keep the box a secret from all the world. You will not regret it. Send your name to this address and you shall be relieved at once.”
“Burdened with another secret,” cried Billie, in a resigned voice. “Where can we hide the thing?”
“I’ll sit on it for the time being,” answered Nancy, laughing. “There come the girls.”
“What are you two infants up to?” called Elinor, appearing just then at the edge of the grove. “We thought you had gone in the other direction and we’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“We have—er——” hesitated Billie, who never could tell fibs. “What have we been doing, Nancy?”