"I saw them," he replied, "watching you all the time you were coming toward the mounds. I was watching them, though they didn't know that."
"Why don't you speak to Mr. Presby and have him put them off the premises?" demanded Barbara.
"It wouldn't do any good. The fellows would take good care to keep off the place while a search was being made for them. There's Miss Olive waiting for you."
"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Stevens? I am glad you are with the girls," said Olive. "Father was disturbed when he found they had gone over to the Indian mounds alone. He said it wasn't safe to do that. Have you met my friends, Mr. Stevens?"
"In a somewhat unceremonious fashion," laughed Stevens.
"Father wants to see you. I'll venture that I can guess how you chanced to meet the girls," smiled Olive. "Now confess that you were treasure hunting."
"I confess. Where may I find your father?"
"In the library. Go right in."
Bob Stevens promised the girls that he would show them his diagrams after he had finished his conference with Mr. Presby. Then, raising his hat to them, he set off toward the house. Mr. and Mrs. Presby were fond of Robert Stevens. He was of good family, and well educated for a country boy. His people were comfortably situated and Robert's ambition was to help his friends, the Presbys, find the treasure that he never had doubted was hidden somewhere on the estate.
But the girls did not see him again that day. Ruth's motor car had arrived by the time they reached the house. The girls ate a hurried luncheon and set off for a long ride before the two men had finished their conference. It was almost dinner time when they returned with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, greatly invigorated after their drive. A. Bubble had behaved himself splendidly. Ruth said he worked much better than before the accident. Bab suggested that it might be an excellent idea to have him collide with a pair of stout iron gates at regular intervals.