Bob Stevens had left his maps and diagrams for the girls to look over, which they did after dinner. They were unable to make anything out of the lines and figures of the treasure hunter. Mollie declared that the man who made them must surely have been insane.
For an hour after dinner the Presbys and their guests chatted in what was called the drawing room, a long, low, barn-like apartment, almost rustic in its fittings and furnishings. The dining room being cleared, Olive called the girls there. They found the room in darkness save for the light shed by the fire in the fireplace and five candles arranged on the sideboard.
"One for each girl present," explained Olive.
"To light us to bed?" questioned Mollie.
"No, indeed," smiled Olive. "Bedtime is still a long way off. We are going to have a feast by candle light."
"I couldn't eat another mouthful after the dinner we had to-night. It would be a physical impossibility," declared Bab.
"Don't make any rash assertions until you see what I have provided for you in the way of a feast," replied Olive, as she took a large, flat tin box from the lower compartment of the old-fashioned sideboard. "Ruth," she continued, "if you will draw the rugs up close to the fireplace we will lose no time in beginning the festivities."
Ruth Stuart did so, arranging the rugs in a semi-circle. But the interest of the girls was centred on the tin box, not on the rugs, just at that time. Then Olive brought out five long, slender white sticks, which she distributed among the girls.
"Aren't you going to open the box?" begged Grace anxiously. "Can't you see we are dying with curiosity to know what is inside?"
"Bab, you may open the box."