“Mr. Gleason seemed honest enough,” Penny commented thoughtfully. “If the rock was deliberately planted on his farm I don’t believe he had anything to do with it.”
“He isn’t sufficiently clever to plan and carry out an idea like that,” Louise added. “Maybe the writing on the rock is genuine.”
“The curator of the museum thinks it may be. All the same, I’ll stack Dad’s opinion against them all.”
The car approached the old Marborough place, and Penny deliberately slowed down. To the surprise of the girls, they observed two automobiles parked in front of the property.
“It looks as if Mrs. Marborough has guests today,” Penny commented. “Shall we stop and say hello?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Louise replied doubtfully as the car drew up at the edge of the road. “We’re not really acquainted with her, and with others there—”
“They’re leaving now,” Penny said, jerking her head to draw attention to a group of ladies coming down the walk toward the street.
The visitors all were known to the two girls as women prominent in Riverview club circles. Mrs. Buckmyer, a stout, pompous lady who led the procession, was speaking to the others in an agitated voice.
“In all my life I never was treated with less courtesy! Mrs. Marborough at least might have invited us into her house!”
“I always understood that she was a queer person,” contributed another, “but one naturally would expect better manners from a Marborough.”