“I believe you are right, Marjorie.” Miss Susanna’s hands were trembling slightly as she opened the notebook and read aloud the first entry. “‘Thought of a new motto today. “Her ways led upward to the stars.” Note: This motto should be particularly applicable to the “one” whom I hope may rise, a future guiding light to Hamilton College.’”

“Why—why—that’s my motto.” Marjorie was looking her utter amazement. “I mean—” Sudden confusion deepened the pink in her cheeks to rose. “It’s the one you selected for me for citation, Goldendede,” she added in embarrassed explanation.

“It’s the one that suited you best, so don’t feel backward about coming forward and saying so,” Leslie assured with her slow smile.

“Of course it suited her,” chimed in Miss Susanna. “You know, Leslie, I’ve always said that Marjorie typified Uncle Brooke’s ideal of girlhood.”

“Wouldn’t you like to read us some more notes, Goldendede?” Marjorie asked persuasively.

“And thus take the subject off your very retiring self,” the old lady supplemented pithily. “Very good, my dear.” Miss Hamilton turned the first leaf and read out to her two avid listeners, “‘Must have Jenkins retake my foot measurements. Last pair of boots he made me are a fraction too narrow. Don’t forget to do this. Important.’”

A ripple of laughter greeted this entry.

“From the sublime to the vexatious problems of everyday life,” commented Miss Susanna. She continued to read aloud the annotations of her famous kinsman. Short, and to the point, they revealed clearly the character of Brooke Hamilton—philosopher, sage, philanthropist, and lastly, unassuming country gentleman.

“This must be the book Uncle Brooke lost not more than a year before his death. He was greatly annoyed by the loss, and used to hunt for it by the hour. Many of the annotations contained dates which he could not remember, offhand. And to think that it’s been tucked away all these years in the Epictitus! Strange he didn’t find it again soon after he had lost it.” Miss Hamilton knitted thoughtful brows. “Ah, now I recall something that may have been the very reason he didn’t. A friend gave him a very fine copy of Epictitus on his birthday. He placed the new copy on his desk, in his study. It was in a much larger print than the other, and his eyes had begun to fail him considerably then.”

Miss Susanna turned leaf upon leaf of the notebook, reading aloud to her interested audience of two as she turned them. “There, I knew I was right about that.” She looked up triumphantly from the book, then read, “‘Have decided to offer the fifty-thousand conditional gift to Hamilton through the medium of “the one who may arise” in my college. I shall ask Norris to handle the matter for me. I can rely upon him for integrity, and at the same time be of financial service to him since he is hard put at present in his law business. I shall go to his office to talk things over with him tomorrow.’”

“This little book is a precious find to me, girls.” Miss Hamilton’s hands were trembling with the excitement of what she had just read. “Uncle Brooke had sometimes spoken vaguely to me of some such plan he had in mind for the college, but I never knew whether, or no, he had put it into execution. This annotation tells me that he must have done so. Once he had put his hand to the plow, he never turned back.”

The abstracted light in the old lady’s eyes spelled her absorbed listeners to silence. They continued to watch her as she turned the next leaf, waiting to hear more from her at will. The time-yellowed leaves of the note book continued to turn under her small fingers. She was evidently in search of further data concerning her kinsman’s avowed project.

“Ah; here it is!” she exclaimed. “‘Saw Norris last Tuesday. Have completed arrangements with him for the “Brooke Hamilton Honor Fund.” For particulars and necessary accompanying papers, see secret drawer.’”

“The secret drawer!” Marjorie cried. “It is in Mr. Brooke’s study desk, isn’t it? Didn’t you say once to me that there was a secret drawer in the desk?”

“Yes,” An oddly puzzled frown had sprung between Miss Hamilton’s brows. “I don’t understand what Uncle Brooke meant. There is nothing in the secret drawer in his study desk. I know that positively because Jonas and I examined it quite a long time after Uncle’s death. Jonas knew how to open it. I hadn’t known until he showed me. There were a few letters in it then, which I turned over to you, Marjorie, together with other material for the biography. None of those letters related to either this man Norris, or the honor fund. Please ring for Jonas, Leslie. He may know of another secret drawer here. I surely do not.” Miss Susanna looked nonplussed.

“Who is, or, more likely was, the man Norris to whom he intrusted the matter?” Leslie asked in her keen fashion. “If living, he would be a very old man now.”

“I don’t know who he is, or was, as the case may he,” Miss Hamilton replied, a note of distress in her answer. “According to Uncle Brooke’s notes he is, or was, a lawyer. I know of no lawyer, however, by the name of Norris, who was practicing law in the town of Hamilton at that time.” She shook a puzzled head.

Jonas just then appearing in the library doorway, Miss Hamilton turned eagerly to him, “Jonas, do you know of another secret drawer here at the Arms besides the one in Uncle Brooke’s study desk?”

Jonas came forward without answering the question, his white brows contracted in an evident effort at recollection.

“I don’t know where there is another secret drawer at the Arms,” he said slowly, “but it seems to me I once heard Mr. Brooke speak of one. I can’t think now, when, or why, he spoke about it. Maybe it’ll come back to me after a while. I only think that he did speak of it to me,” the old houseman ended with certainty.

“Marjorie found Uncle Brooke’s notebook; the one he lost, and worried about losing.” Miss Hamilton held up the little black book, relating to Jonas in an excited voice the circumstances of the finding and the important information it contained concerning the “Honor Fund.”

Jonas’s fine old features registered marked surprise. “He talked to me about that honor fund, different times,” he said, an excited note in his own voice. “He must have put his idea through, or he wouldn’t have written that in the notebook.”

“Do you recall a lawyer in Hamilton by the name of Norris, Jonas?” Miss Susanna had fixed hopeful eyes on Jonas.

“No,” Jonas answered after due deliberation. “I never heard Mr. Brooke mention any such man, either. He must have lived there, though, or in some near-by town. Mr. Brooke said in the note you just read me that he was going to this man Norris’s office the next day to see him.”

“Yes,” the old lady nodded, “I wish you to go to Hamilton town this afternoon, Jonas, and see John Saxe. He knows everybody in the town and around it. Ask him to look up this man Norris, if he can, as soon as possible. It was his business to write me concerning this trust directly after Uncle Brooke’s death. Possibly he thought I knew the situation regarding it. Nevertheless, he should have communicated with me, at any rate. He must have been living then. If he had died before Uncle Brooke died Uncle would have made a new arrangement with another lawyer about the fund.”

“Perhaps he may have done so, and any data which might relate to the change of lawyers is in the secret drawer, too,” Marjorie suggested.

“And we haven’t the remotest idea of where that mysterious secret drawer may be!” Miss Susanna’s small hands went up in a despairing gesture.

“Some Chinese puzzle,” Leslie commented.

“Maybe the secret drawer is somewhere in the Chinese room,” came as a sudden inspiration from Marjorie, prompted by Leslie’s mention of the word “Chinese.”

“It may be there.” Miss Hamilton cast a half startled glance at her companions. “The room has a number of odd Oriental stands and cabinets, any one of them might easily contain a secret drawer. To find it, though!” Up went her hands again. “A needle-in-the-haystack search, I’m afraid. I know less about the Chinese room than any other room in the house. Jonas is far more familiar with it than I. You’ll have to be chief hunter, there, Jonas.”

“I guess I will.” Jonas looked pleased at being thus appointed to the search.

“One thing is certain. The secret drawer must be found. It is somewhere in this house which narrows down the area to be searched to the few rooms Uncle Brooke continually used,—his bedroom, his study, the Chinese room and the library. Of the four, I should say the library is the least likely to contain it. The only piece of furniture in here that might contain it is the library table. I doubt the possibility of there being a secret drawer in it.”

Miss Susanna rose, went over to the massive, claw-legged mahogany table, and began a slow prowl about it, her sharp eyes taking in its every detail. Jonas had already begun the search, tapping the sides of the table as he peered along the carvings of them for what might prove to be a cunningly concealed spring. He opened the drawers of the table, subjecting the inside of them to the same careful examination.

“There’s no secret drawer in this table,” was his opinion, spoken at the end of his methodical investigation.

“I’m satisfied, too, there isn’t,” agreed the mistress of the Arms. “Tomorrow, Jonas, we will tackle the study. There may be another secret drawer in the study desk besides the one of which we know. This afternoon I want you to go to Hamilton and see what you can learn regarding Lawyer Norris. If we should be lucky enough to find the secret drawer within the next few days it won’t be necessary to start an investigation, regarding the fifty thousand dollars involved in this affair. The one note plainly states Uncle Brooke’s intention of offering a fifty thousand dollar honorarium to Hamilton College under certain conditions, laid down by him. The note of later date states that he completed some sort of arrangement for it with Lawyer Norris. As a trust fund the fifty thousand would have, probably, been deposited in bank at once by Norris. Uncle Brooke used the Hamilton Trust largely, although he was a depositor in several New York City banks. If he gave his check for the honor fund to Norris, together with instructions to him to deposit the check, it may be the Hamilton Bank was used for the transaction. In such case the bank should have the record of the transaction. If so, why was I not notified of it soon after Uncle Brooke’s death?” Miss Susanna’s question was asked with hurt belligerence.

“An arrangement entire separate from your kinsman’s other financial affairs may have been made by him with Norris,” Leslie hazarded. “His notes state his confidence in Norris. No doubt then he made the check out to Norris. Of course he might have given him bonds instead.”

“He had no bonds at the time he sent for Norris. His large fortune was almost all in cash or in real estate. His father left him a great deal of land, in and about Hamilton, and Hamilton Estates. I’d prefer not to call the Hamilton Trust into the matter, though we may find it necessary in the long run to do so.”

“Surely, if the Hamilton Bank had been asked to handle the check you would have heard something about the matter, either directly, or indirectly, during all the years you have lived at the Arms,” was Leslie’s further opinion.

“I’m inclined to that view of it, too. I doubt if the Hamilton Bank is in any way concerned in this Norris business.”

“Why not let my father investigate for you?” proposed Leslie. “He’s coming to Hamilton to see me for a day or two, soon after he lands. If, by that time, you haven’t found the secret drawer, then please let my father help you in the matter, Miss Susanna,” Leslie earnestly petitioned.

“Peter? I never once thought of him!” Miss Susanna exclaimed, brightening visibly. “He’s the very man I need to help me. I should be eternally grateful to him, if he would.”

“He will,” Leslie promised.

“There’s more to this than appears on the surface.” Miss Hamilton’s lips set themselves in severe line. “Granted we find the secret drawer, the finding of the data relating to the honor fund may only serve to prove treachery to his trust on Lawyer Norris’s part. As heir to my uncle’s fortune and estate, Hamilton Arms, he at least owed it to me to inform me of the trust Uncle Brooke had reposed in him.”

“Possibly he was under the impression that you knew of the fifty-thousand dollar fund through your uncle, and had been instructed by Mr. Brooke to assume the responsibility of choosing ‘the one’ in the event of his death,” Marjorie made meditative suggestion. “In such case, he might wait for you to communicate with him regarding it.”

“I’ll admit such a contingency,” the old lady conceded rather reluctantly. “We’re all at sea in the matter, it seems. Either Norris, or else the secret drawer, must be found; both preferably.”

“This much seems certain, Lawyer Norris was not commissioned by Mr. Brooke to choose ‘the one’ in the event of Mr. Brooke’s decease,” Marjorie said.

“I’m not so sure of that.” Miss Susanna showed inclination toward distrust of the lawyer. “Uncle Brooke never did things by halves. You must remember, this particular transaction was made less than two years before his death. He was then over eighty years old. He knew his end was near. He had often said as much to me. I believe he would have appointed me to choose ‘the one’; not the man Norris. I knew Uncle; his hopes, dreams; ideals, and he knew that I knew them. I can’t understand why he did not confide in me at the time he formulated a definite plan.” Her voice trembled a trifle on the last words, the manifestation of a hurt spirit.

“I’ve no doubt but that the lost papers may hold an explanation of that,” Marjorie advanced comfortingly, “and they’re tucked away somewhere in this very house. Somehow, I have faith in Lawyer Norris. Mr. Brooke would not have chosen him for such an important responsibility if he hadn’t been sure of his truth and honor.

“Uncle Brooke’s staunchest advocate.” Miss Susanna drew Marjorie, standing beside her, into the circle of an arm. “If neither the papers, nor Lawyer Norris should be found, I could still carry out his wish. The important point to be considered, after all, would not be the fifty thousand dollars. The finding of ‘the one’ would be the real problem, except—” her eyes came to rest with luminous tenderness upon the lovely face bent seriously upon her,—“the one has already been found. I found her for Uncle Brooke, long ago, not far from my gates. She helped a very cranky old lady pick up an overturned basket of plant pots, and showed her how beautiful girlhood might be. Afterward, I came to know her better, not only as a friend, but as an inspiration to Uncle Brooke’s college, giving her best to it because of her appreciation of its founder. He chose the motto ‘Her ways led upward toward the stars,’ as applicable to ‘the one.’ Without knowing it I chose the same motto as best suited to Marjorie. It is almost as though I had received his direct approval of my choice.”