"This" he said, as he finished reading and held up the letter signed with a skull and cross-bones, "undoubtedly came from the source where the plot to kidnap me originated. They are pretty well organized and determined to go the limit. Of course, you girls must give up your plans to work among the strikers' families. It would be foolhardy and probably would result in somebody's getting hurt."
"How about the other letter?" Marion asked.
"I don't know," was the reply. "It doesn't seem to amount to much. I hardly think it is to be taken as a threat. Have you no idea who sent it?"
"Some of the girls think it was sent by some of the Boy Scouts at Spring Lake. You see they came up in full force to Hiawatha on the night when we held our Grand Council Fire. It was a complete surprise on us, exceedingly well done and about as clever as you could expect from the cleverest boys. Before they left, several of them boasted openly that they were planning another surprise for some of us, and they dared us to find out in advance what it was."
"No doubt that is what this note means," Mr. Stanlock declared so positively and such a gleam of interest in his eyes that Marion could not help wondering just a little.
"What makes you so certain about it?" she inquired. "I don't see any real proof in those words as to what they mean or who wrote them."
"No, no, of course not," agreed Mr. Stanlock with seemingly uncalled for glibness; "but then, you see, it is more reasonable to suspect that this note came from the boys than from the strikers. If it is between the two,—the boys and the strikers,—I say forget the strikers and be sure that the boys sent this note."
"I wish that the boys would spring their surprise tonight and settle the question of that note," said Marion.
"Why?" inquired her father with the faint light of a smile in his eyes.
"Because I don't like the uncertainty of the thing. Uncertainty always bothers me, and this is a more than ordinary case."