"THE GIRLS CROWDED AROUND TO SEE WHAT WAS REVEALED"
Gretta began to deposit on the floor the top layer of the contents of the trunk. There was nothing interesting to the eager on-lookers, and everything had a dusty, musty smell, "as if spiders had wrapped them up in their webs instead of moth balls," Margery suggested. There were queer old garments, not valuable when they were new, and far from new when they were packed away. There were old account books which none but the accountant could have understood; some old newspapers, yellow and stained, and at the bottom more newspapers, but these bore dates several years subsequent to the papers on top, or the dates revealed by the garments.
"There isn't anything wildly exciting about this," said Bob wearily. "And I'm getting chilled to my marrow up here. Queer the newer papers are below; they must have repacked this thing. Why what's the matter, Gretta? What's up?"
He spoke sharply, and dropped on his knees beside the girl to look over her shoulder. Gretta was sitting back on her heels, holding a long, yellowed envelope in her hand at which she was gazing with all color fled from her frightened face.
"'The Last Will and Testament of Anna Bittenbender,'" read Bob, aloud. "Good gracious, Gretta, has it been found at last? And right here in the house? Open it, quick!"
"I can't," said Gretta, holding out the envelope to Happie as if it had been a dynamite bomb. "You read it, Happie."
Happie took the envelope eagerly, and drew forth from it a sheet of foolscap, covered with clear writing, very different from the inscription on the envelope.
"'I, Anna Bittenbender, born Neumann, and subsequently wife to Herman Engel, now the wife of Isaac Bittenbender, being of sound mind——' Why, Gretta, is it—it is actually your grandmother's will!" cried Happie, breaking off short in her reading, greatly excited.
"No doubt of that!" cried Bob, not less excited, while Margery and Laura mounted the fateful trunk, the better to look over Happie's shoulder. "Hurry up, Hap! She gives and bequeaths, of course. What does she give and bequeath—to whom?"