“What’s going on downstairs?” Laura came into Nan’s room quietly. “Of course, it’s none of my business,” she went on, “but everything seems to be in an uproar. Your cousin is ranting around as I’ve never seen him rant before, and Walker Jamieson is there and he looks as though everything is wrong with the world.”

“Why, I don’t know,” Nan looked up from the diary she was writing, a diary in which she kept a day by day account of her trip. But she looked worried. Had Walker, after all, told the story that they had promised to keep a secret and was her cousin insisting on getting to the bottom of everything right away?

“What were they talking about?” she asked Laura.

“I don’t know,” Laura answered. “When I came through the room, they stopped, and seemed to be waiting until I got out, before continuing. I got the point and hurried. I was only after a magazine that I had left in the room, anyway. But even for the short time I was in there, the air seemed so heavy with emotion that you could cut it.”

“And you didn’t hear anything?” Nan repeated the thought of her former question.

“I said, ‘no’.” Laura insisted. “Why, what did you expect me to hear?” She looked at her friend intently. As Bess often did in similar circumstances, Laura now felt that Nan knew much more about what was going on downstairs than she wanted to reveal.

“Oh, nothing,” Nan managed to say this airily, as though she truly had had nothing in view when she asked the question. So saying, she screwed the top on her fountain pen, put her diary away, and stamped a letter she had just written home. With these little things done, she turned again to Laura, “Do you know that Grace’s brother and his friends are expected here at the hacienda tomorrow?” she asked.

“Are they? Tomorrow?” Laura had been out in the courtyard watching some Mexican youngsters at play when Grace had told Nan. Now, the information was a surprise to her. “What’s been planned? How many will there be? How long will they stay?” The questions rolled off her tongue one after the other, until Nan stopped her.

“Oh, Laura,” she said, “one at a time, please. We’ve not planned anything definite yet and we don’t know how many nor how long, but we’re hoping that they can stay at least a week. Isn’t it all going to be fun!”

“Yes,” Laura was almost as excited as Nan. “It’s going to be grand to have them all here. Now, let’s go and get the other girls and plan something.”

But before they could get out of the room, the others came bursting in. “Oh, do you know,” Bess got the words out first, “Walter and his friends probably will arrive tonight.” Amelia and Grace nodded their heads in unison.

“How do you know?” Nan asked.

“Here’s a telegram.” Grace waved it in the air. “It says,” she read, “‘Arriving tonight. Six of us. Anxious to see you. Walter.’ I wonder when they’ll get here.” Saying this, she went over to the windows and looked down into the courtyard as though she expected them at once. Then she turned toward the others again, “How good it’s going to be!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been a little lonesome for someone from home ever since Rhoda’s mother became so ill.”

“Have you, Gracie?” Nan put her arm affectionately around the more timid girl’s shoulder. “I guess we all have been. It will be good to see Walter because he has seen all our parents since we left. Now let’s go downstairs and tell cousin Adair.”

But the girls lingered a little while longer, talking and planning. “It must have been fate that kept us there,” Laura laughed afterwards, for one of the very nicest things of all their trip happened just before they departed.

It was Nan who heard it first, that faint far-away sound of the strumming of a guitar. “Sh! Quiet!” she broke in on the hubbub in the room. “What’s that I hear?” They all listened for a second.

“Oh, nothing.” Laura waved the question aside, “and do you think we can get Mr. MacKenzie to go with us again on a mule ride over the estate?” she went on with the planning of entertainment for the boys.

“It is too something,” Nan insisted, for she heard again the sound of music. “Listen!”

“Oh, Nan, you’re hearing things,” Laura perhaps was more impatient than any of the others, for she was intrigued with the idea of asking Adair to get on a mule again, and she wanted to talk about it.

“She isn’t either.” Bess heard the strains now. “I hear something too.”

“Come—oh, look!” Nan was at a balcony window beckoning the others eagerly. They all clustered round her, and there in the moonlit courtyard below them Walter and his friends were serenading the girls. When they all appeared, the music grew louder, stronger, and the boys harmonized their voices as they sang for the second time,

As they swung into the chorus, the girls, laughing but enjoying it all thoroughly, pulled flowers that they had picked that day from the garden from their dresses and threw them down. The chorus ended, and the girls clapped. The boys laughed up at them, and others in the courtyard who had been attracted by the music called for more.

It was all very gay and happy. The boys did sing an encore, and then as Alice and Adair came out on the veranda they broke off, and Walter went up the steps and introduced himself and his friends. The girls came down and they all had a merry evening together, talking over the million and one things that had been happening.

It was not until the afternoon of the next day, that Nan and Walter had a moment alone together. Then she told him the story of her missing ring.

“Then the cook didn’t actually tell you that he took it?” Walter asked at the end.

“No, but he implied it,” Nan answered, “and I’m as sure he did as I am certain that he is not to be blamed.”

Walter couldn’t restrain the smile that came at this. Nan always trusted people, always felt that there was good in everyone. This was one of the things that first attracted Walter to her. Somehow, she, unlike many others her own age, never found enjoyment in criticising others. She seemed to understand their faults and to be able to explain them sympathetically no matter what they were. Now, in talking of the man whom she felt sure had stolen her ring, she honestly believed that, in doing so, he had been influenced by conditions over which he had no control. She felt sorry for him, and didn’t want to do him any injury. This was one of the big reasons why she had pledged Walker Jamieson to secrecy.

“And what does Mr. MacKenzie think of all of this?” Walter asked just before Nan left him to dress for dinner.

“Oh, he doesn’t know anything about it at all,” Nan hastened to explain, “and I don’t want you to say a thing. This is all a secret until—until—until—”

“Until what?” Walter looked at the young girl curiously, as she stopped midway in her sentence.

“Until it’s solved,” Nan smiled at her friend, and then refused to explain further.

“Nancy Sherwood,” Walter spoke seriously now, “if you’re not careful, you’re going to get yourself all involved in a plot that might hurt you. Come, be sensible for once. Either forget the ring entirely, or tell your cousin all that you know about it. Promise?”

Nan shook her head. She couldn’t tell Walter that she and Walker had already made certain promises about the ring and the Chinaman’s part in its disappearance. She couldn’t tell him that the reporter sensed a big story and asked her to protect the details until he had arrived at a solution. She couldn’t tell him, but she wanted to.

Now it was Grace who saved what otherwise might have been an embarrassing situation. She came out into the corner of the patio where Nan and Walter were standing.

“Nan,” she asked, “did you know that Walker Jamieson left the hacienda early this afternoon and that he took his bags with him?”

“Left the hacienda!” Nan exclaimed, “are you sure, Grace?”

“As sure as I am of anything,” Grace replied, “and if you don’t believe me you can either wait to see if he appears at dinner, or you can go in right now and ask Bess.”