Mike O’Malley, the young reporter who had volunteered his help in making an investigation of the empty house, departed immediately after his conversation with Linda and Dot on Sunday morning at Lake Winnebago. “I’ll be over at the place to-morrow, late in the afternoon,” he promised, as he put the map of directions into his pocket. “And I’ll bring tools with me. Maybe I’ll even commandeer a ladder from the nearest farmhouse, so we can climb in a window if it is necessary. Like regular robbers!” “That’s an idea!” approved Linda, thinking how useful such a thing might be in getting into the tower. “Make it a good high one!” The two girls left their secluded spot and strolled back to the Inn to join the other guests. Here a surprise of an exceedingly unpleasant nature awaited Linda. Her Aunt Emily handed her a telegram which was far from being a message of congratulation upon winning the race, as the older woman suggested that it might be. Opening it hastily, she read these threatening words:
Linda read the message through twice before she could really believe it. With a blank stare she handed it silently to her aunt. “Why, that’s absurd!” cried the older woman, unusually angry for her. “Fifty thousand dollars! Why, you haven’t got that much money!” “I know. But I suppose Mrs. Fishberry thought we were enormously rich. Mike O’Malley said there was something crooked about this woman, and I believe him. I bet this is the only reason she bothered to get Amy back.” “It’s a frame-up, of course,” said Miss Carlton. “The witness is someone who is being bribed to lie. And a dishonest lawyer, who is willing to take the case for what he can get out of it. You have a witness too, however, in Dot.” “Yes, but the judge may say that since she’s my friend that of course she would testify for me. Oh, Aunt Emily, what shall we do? Wire for Daddy to come to Green Falls?” “I’m afraid we can’t do that, my dear. I had a telegram from him yesterday just before we left home—I forgot to tell you in the excitement over the treasure hunt—informing me that he was sailing for Paris to-day. He is going to wander about France, in some of the smaller towns, partly on business and partly for pleasure. We simply can’t wire him.” “Then what shall we do?” repeated Linda, desperately. “I don’t know. We’ll have to think about it. Write to Mr. Irwin, I suppose. He is a wonderful lawyer, you know.” “Will you do that for me right away, Aunt Emily?” “Yes, dear, if you’ll promise to cheer up and forget it for the time being. After all you have done nothing wrong, and there is nothing to worry about— Now, will you go get ready for lunch? It ought to be announced any minute now.” Leaving the disagreeable telegram with her aunt, Linda went to her room to dress. When she returned, another surprise awaited her, which she did not know whether to regard as pleasant or not. She had tried to put the thought of Lord Dudley out of her mind, and here he was again—as fascinating and as handsome as ever. He was standing in the corner of the reception room talking with Tom Hulbert and another man, a stranger to Linda, when the girl came down the stairs. “Miss Carlton!” he exclaimed, with his charming smile, and in another moment he was shaking hands with her and introducing the stranger, John Kuhns, a friend of Tom Hulbert, to her. “But how did you know about this party?” demanded Linda. “We all told you about the treasure hunt, but I didn’t think you knew about the house-party here at the lake.” “Oh, Mr. Clavering invited me to join you all here, before I left Green Falls. But I’ve been very busy, in Chicago, and I couldn’t get away last night. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Kuhns, I shouldn’t be here now.” At this moment Ralph Clavering and his father joined the little group, the younger man as usual looking annoyed at the reappearance of another admirer of Linda. “I hope that you and Mr. Kuhns can arrange to stay until to-morrow, Lord Dudley,” said the older man cordially. “The party isn’t breaking up till the afternoon.” “That’s awfully kind,” replied the Englishman, “but I’m afraid I can’t. I have some rather important business on for to-morrow. So Kuhns and I are flying back this afternoon.” He turned to Linda. “In which case,” he said, “since my time is so short, may I have a stroll with you after luncheon, Miss Carlton?” Linda hesitated. “We were all going to take our planes up this afternoon—” she began. “That can be postponed until four o’clock,” suggested Mr. Clavering, graciously. Ralph, however, frowned moodily, and walked away. Linda herself was not so sure that she wanted a tÊte-À-tÊte with this man. It would be easier to forget him if she did not see much of him. But there was no real reason to refuse, so she met him again at half-past two on the porch. “I certainly want to congratulate you, Miss Carlton,” he said, as they strolled towards the lake. “And I hear that the prize is money.” “Yes,” she replied, smiling. “A thousand dollars. But I am sharing it with Amy, because she really found the place.” “Amy?” he repeated. “That girl—your protÉgÉe?” “Yes.” “And where is she now?” he asked casually. Linda wondered whether he were merely talking to keep the conversation impersonal. Well, he needn’t worry about her; fascinating as he was, she didn’t want to marry him! “Her aunt took her away from me,” she replied. “It seems that where the treasure was hidden, was really her old home.” “Indeed!” he remarked. “And you say you met her aunt? Then you found out who she was, and everything is all right?” “Yes. Her real name is Helen Tower. The woman had pictures, and a key to the house. But she was a very disagreeable person.” “Too bad for the child,” he muttered. “Did the girl know her?” “No, she didn’t. And she didn’t want to go. But Mrs. Fishberry insisted. And now she is making things very unpleasant for me.” “How’s that?” “She claims that I smashed into Amy with my autogiro—that there wasn’t any car at all. And she’s going to sue me for fifty thousand dollars!” “How can she?” demanded her companion, angrily. Then his eyes twinkled, and he asked suddenly, “Was there really a car, Linda?” Linda’s eyes blazed. Did this man actually think she would lie? Of course, he hadn’t known her long, but she thought he knew her well enough for that. “Of course, there was a car,” she replied, haughtily. “A gray car, driven by an elderly man, at eighty miles an hour—or something like that. I have Miss Crowley as a witness, but they say they have one, too, and I suppose I shall have to go to court.” “Always in the newspapers,” he remarked, teasingly. “Yes, and not only that, but I expect to take a job in the fall that may take me far away from Chicago. It’s going to be awfully inconvenient, even if I don’t have to pay any money.” They strolled along in silence for a little while, and Linda had a sudden desire to be back with her other friends. This Englishman was not so fascinating upon further acquaintance, and she longed for Dot. If she had a chance to talk to her about the telegram, she would feel better. Dot always had such wonderful suggestions. Lord Dudley, however, had one to offer. “Why don’t you try to buy the woman off, Miss Carlton?” he asked. “What for?” she demanded, angrily. “Oh, say for about twenty-five thousand—maybe less, if she’d take it. It would save you a lot of time and worry, and maybe money in the end. You may be telling the truth, but how’s a judge to know that, if the other people have a witness?” Linda drew herself up proudly. She was actually beginning to dislike the man. “I wouldn’t think of it!” she exclaimed. “That would be the same as admitting that I was guilty. No, thank you—I’d rather fight.” Looking ahead of her, she suddenly spied Ralph sitting alone on a bench beside the lake. He was probably furious with her for going off with this stranger, and all of a sudden she saw his point of view. Who was Lord Dudley anyhow, to step in between them like this? “I’ll race you to that bench!” she challenged, abruptly. “Ralph looks lonely.” “I’m too old to run,” he replied, smiling. “But you go along. I really must be getting back to the Inn. We’re leaving soon—” He hesitated, and held out his hand. “It’s good-by, now, Miss Carlton. I’m sailing for England early next week. I don’t suppose I’ll see you again till you come there on one of your flights.” “Good-by, Lord Dudley,” she replied. “But don’t expect me soon! I’ve been across the Atlantic you know, and next time I’ll be flying the Pacific.” |