“There she goes,” Nancy Brown had exclaimed as “The Comet,” Billie’s motor, whirled by; “too proud even to ask her old friends to take a spin.”

“Now, Nancy,” protested Elinor, “don’t be too hard on her. Remember, she has not seen any of us since we were children. Perhaps she’s forgotten all about us. Besides, I’ve been thinking that we ought to have done the first speaking. She was starting right for us when Belle Rogers stopped her.”

“Well, I tried twice to speak to her,” said Nancy, “and she wouldn’t look at me. I am afraid we shall never get a ride in that pretty motor car, and the only one I was ever in was the stationary automobile at the tintype place at the County Fair.”

The girls walked on silently for a few moments. The red motor car had turned a curve in the road and was out of sight and the place seemed very lonely and still. The afternoon shadows were beginning to lengthen as the sun moved slowly behind the pine woods, which formed a dark background against the flat, green meadows about West Haven.

“I can’t imagine why we should be wasting time about a friend who has forgotten us,” exclaimed Mary Price, “when Elinor has brought us out here to tell us some mysterious secret. Don’t you think it’s about time to begin, Elinor? It’s getting late and we’ve still a good ways to go.”

“I was just going to,” answered her friend, “but suppose we take the short cut across the fields, and I’ll tell you on the way. Two other people are in the secret, Charlie Clay and Ben Austen. They have promised to meet us at the old house. Of course, the whole thing may be of no importance.”

“But what is it?” interrupted Nancy. “You keep dodging around the bush.”

“Now, Nancy,” answered Elinor, who had a calm, placid disposition and never hurried about anything, “don’t put your most peculiar characteristic off on me. You know very well that you are the one who loves to keep a mystery until we are all of us nearly bursting with curiosity.”

“Don’t quarrel, children,” interrupted Mary. “Remember that members of the Blue Bird Society are bound over not to quarrel.”

“We aren’t quarreling; we’re just discussing. But do go on, Elinor. I can’t stand the suspense much longer.”

“What I am going to tell you,” said Elinor, “may be of the vastest importance or it may be just nothing whatever. At any rate, I didn’t want to take any chances and it was simple enough for us to meet the boys out here and see for ourselves.”

“See what, Elinor Butler?” ejaculated Nancy impatiently. “You always begin at the last of a story and tell backwards.”

Elinor smiled provokingly.

“That’s to see how much curiosity you can accumulate without exploding, Nancy, dear.”

Nancy shut her lips tightly. She was determined now, at any cost, not to speak again until Elinor had really started on the story, but how irritating Elinor could be at times!

Mary was never disturbed over these little tiffs of the two friends which were merely the ups and downs of the endless conversation that flowed between them.

“This is what happened then, Nancy darling,” continued Elinor, slipping an arm around her friend’s waist, while she locked her other arm through Mary’s. And the three girls hurried on, too absorbed in their intimate talk to notice the flash of a scarlet motor car through the high bushes, which bordered both sides of Boulder Lane, the name of the road which intercepted the two meadows.

“I was coming across Court House Square late yesterday afternoon after my music lesson. You know I have begun to study with the new teacher, Mme. Alta. Just as I came to the statue of Thomas Jefferson, I heard some one call very softly, or rather it was more like a hiss than a call. I suppose I should have rushed off frightened, but I am never afraid of people. It’s only spiders and snakes and bulls that make me shiver. So, I didn’t run away, but waited, and I discovered that the hiss came from around the other side of the statue and was not meant for me at all. Even then I should have gone on if I hadn’t heard some one cry out. I couldn’t understand the language, but another voice said in English: ‘There are only two boxes left. Take them to the old house in Boulder Lane to-night and never keep me waiting this long again.’ Then the other man said something and the English voice said: ‘You can haul them to-morrow morning. It’ll be time enough when I get the signal to do the rest.’ I couldn’t understand what the man answered, but the English voice said: ‘I’ll kill the whole crew of Butlers and anybody else who interferes with me. I’m in a desperate humor and I won’t be bothered.’ Fortunately they took the walk that goes to the docks, because they would certainly have seen me if they had come around on the other side. But I saw them plainly when they passed under the electric light. They looked like seamen.”

“‘Kill the whole crew of Butlers,’” repeated Mary Price. “Does he mean that he is going to wipe your family off the face of the earth? And for what?”

“That is what I want to find out. It wouldn’t do any special harm to take a late afternoon stroll in this direction, if the boys are with us. I didn’t want to say anything to father about it. He is so busy, and you know how excitable he is. William is exactly like father. Edward and mother and I are the only calm, peaceful members of the family, and mother’s sick and Edward is at college. Besides, you know, the man may not have meant us. The county is full of Butlers, dozens of them. Some of them claim kin and some do not. They are the most quarrelsome, high-tempered people in existence—that is, all except Edward and me.”

The other girls laughed.

“Not high-tempered, Elinor,” said Nancy, “but you have a sort of royal manner when you are displeased that I imagine a queen might have when one of her subjects is disobedient.”

“What’s that?” interrupted Mary. “I thought I heard some one call.”

The girls paused and listened. They were standing in a broad, flat meadow which seemed to stretch out indefinitely in one direction like an enormous pale-green billiard table; but in the other direction, bordered by alder bushes, lay Boulder Lane; so called because of an immense gray boulder, which in some prehistoric upheaval had been tossed here, and which resembled now an old gray sentinel standing on perpetual guard.

“Why, there’s the automobile,” exclaimed Nancy, after some minutes, following an occasional flash of red through the bushes, as the flying motor car sped on up the lane.

“I wonder what she is doing up Boulder Lane? Exploring by herself, I suppose. It must be lonely,” observed Mary.

A fresh salt breeze had sprung up from the ocean, bringing with it the chill of the oncoming night. The three girls hastened their footsteps. If they were late, the boys might not wait for them.

“Boys are so unreliable,” Mary had remarked.

“Not Ben Austen,” said Elinor. “Father says he is as trustworthy as the Bank of England. But he’s slow. He never likes to stop one thing until he finishes it, no matter what’s waiting. He and Charlie are building a boat somewhere down the beach and they spend all their afternoons at it, but they are sure to be there if they promised.”

By this time the girls had reached the hedge. It was certainly a lonesome place. The old house which had been unoccupied for many years because its last occupant had committed suicide by hanging himself from a beam, appeared in the gathering dusk like a solitary gray ghost; the front windows resembled two large sad eyes gazing into space and the walls, streaked with the tempests of many seasons, had the appearance of a worn, tear-stained face.

“Dear me,” whispered Nancy, “I had forgotten what a weird old place this was. It might be the entrance to a tomb.”

“Halo-o-o!” called a boyish voice, and a tall, overgrown lad appeared coming up the lane from the direction of the beach, followed by a much smaller youth, who was so absorbed with whittling a little boat that he did not even look up when the girls answered the call.

“Don’t make so much noise, Ben,” said Elinor, when they had climbed through the hedge and congregated together in the lane. “This is just an investigating party. We are not to take any risks.”

“There seems to be nobody around,” replied Ben. “We saw an automobile go past a little while ago with two men in it and some big boxes in the back. It was almost stuck in the sand. I wonder it could get along at all. It looked like a big, red lobster.”

“Red?” cried the girls in one voice.

“I never saw anything redder in my life,” put in Charlie.

“You must be mistaken about the men, then,” said Elinor decisively. “Because Billie Campbell owns it and was running it herself a little while ago.”

“Well, we were not close enough to get a good look, but Billie Campbell appeared to be two men at that distance. But come along, girls. It is getting late and we had better not lose any more time. Now, what is it we are looking for? Butler bundles and boxes?”

“I don’t think they can be called Butler bundles,” replied Elinor, “since my family is to be wiped out of existence if it interferes with the bundles, whatever they are.”

The boys and girls who were thoroughly enjoying the fun and mystery of the expedition now advanced on tiptoe to the ghostly looking house, like a party of conspirators in a play.

“I feel like a pirate,” whispered Nancy, giggling.

Suddenly Ben, who was ahead of the others, stopped and put his fingers to his lips. He beckoned to them to follow him around to the side of the house.

“I heard something inside the house,” he said, in a low voice. “Wait here, girls, with Charlie while I take a look.”

He crept cautiously around to the front and presently they heard him open the door and walk boldly in.

“I’m going, too,” said Charlie, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, and the girls followed him single-file into a low-studded, dusty room, unfurnished except for one rickety chair, but behind that stood—Billie Campbell! And facing Billie in the dim light just inside the door stood Ben, surprise written as plainly upon his face as bravery, defiance, and apprehension were mingled upon hers.

The girls were too amazed to speak at first.

“Billie Campbell!” cried Nancy, at last. “Did two men frighten you and run away with your automobile?”

Billie nodded. Somehow it was very difficult to keep back her tears now that help had come; but she never had been a cry-baby even as a child and now she choked down her sobs with all her strength, for in the gathering dusk she had recognized the faces of her three childhood friends who had refused to remember her that day at school.

“Oh, but I’m glad to see you!” she exclaimed. “After the men went off I noticed that the front door was open and I came in a minute to see if it really looked as though it were lived in now-a-days as the man said. But it just looks deserted, and it’s dreadfully dusty except here in the corner and from here to the door,—just as though something had been dragged across the floor.”

The young girl had been talking excitedly, but now she stopped abruptly and with a friendly look and a gesture of intense relief she stretched her arms over her head, as though with the relaxation of her muscles she could also free herself from the sudden shock and dread that had bound her.

She was tall for her age, fifteen, with a frank, almost boyish face, fine gray eyes, and a rather large mouth which curled up at the corners when she smiled and showed two graduated rows of strong white teeth. Her light brown hair was parted in the middle and rolled on each side into a thick, knobby plait in the back.

“She’s not very strong on looks,” thought Nancy, who set great store on beauty herself, “but she’s got the nicest face I ever saw.”

“How did it happen?” asked Ben.

Then Billie told how the two men had duped her and left her behind the deserted house, and how she had found the message on the slip of paper.

“Then the men are coming back?” cried Elinor.

“Perhaps,” replied Billie, “and we’d better hurry away from here as fast as we can in case they come. They may not intend to do me any harm, but they are a very determined-looking pair of characters, as papa says, and one of them has a long pistol and a knife in his belt, for I saw them.”

“But what about the red motor?” demanded Nancy, whose yearning to ride in the car had somewhat biased her good judgment.

“I’ll just have to lose it, I suppose,” answered Billie.

“I have a scheme,” put in Charlie, who rarely spoke without due deliberation. “Miss Campbell is just about as tall as I am—she may be a little shorter,” he added, stretching himself to his full height.

The others smiled secretly at this, for Billie was at least an inch taller than Charlie, but they knew that the most sensitive spot in his nature was his height, since he was the oldest member of the party and Ben overtopped him by nearly three inches. And Charlie had a sneaking suspicion that he never would be tall enough. His bones were small and his frame as slender and delicate as a girl’s.

“Suppose I put on your hat and veil and your long coat,” he continued, “and sit here on the step waiting. It’s getting darker all the time, and so if the men come back they’ll think it is you; but if they thought somebody was onto them, they would probably break their word and chase off with the motor.”

“I don’t think that would be quite fair,” said Billie. “Suppose they found out you were a boy. They might shoot you or something.”

“But they won’t find it out,” answered Charlie. “Hurry up. We have no time to lose.”

“Yes, do,” urged Ben. “It’s much the best way. We couldn’t leave you for the thieves and it’s a pity to lose the car. Besides, the rest of us will hide in the house and if anything happens, we’ll come to the rescue.”

Billie removed her ulster without another word.

“She’s a dandy, sensible girl,” thought Ben to himself.

“You’d better take the skirt, too. If they saw your trouser legs, it would be all off,” said Billie, as she unbuckled her belt and removed her gray walking skirt, standing before them without any embarrassment in a short, red silk petticoat.

“What about shoes?” observed Mary Price. “Those Charlie is wearing are not much like a girl’s shoes.”

“How about these pumps? I wear No. fives,” said Billie, calmly kicking off her slippers.

Charlie, good-naturedly, unlaced his stout boy’s boots.

“I might be able to get my big toe into them,” he said. “Like Cinderella’s step-sisters and the little glass slipper.”

“These aren’t any Cinderella’s,” laughed Billie.

How nice these boys and girls did seem to her and how fine it was to be with them, even in this strange and dangerous situation!

Charlie could wear the slippers, however, although they were somewhat narrow in the toe, and presently he was fully dressed in a girl’s suit, with his face almost concealed by a long gray chiffon veil, twisted around Billie’s gray felt hat, trimmed with one red wing.

“Hurry, they’re really coming,” called Billie, catching the familiar sound of a motor engine in the distance.

“All right,” said Ben, who had been hovering around Charlie in pretended admiration of his changed appearance. “Good luck, old boy!” he added as he hastened after the girls up the narrow flight of stairs into the attic, which was perfectly dark and seemed a better place for hiding than outside, where enough twilight still lingered to make objects plainly visible.

“We are a good deal like ‘The Musicians of Bremen,’” observed Mary, in a low voice, as they lay stretched face downward on the attic floor. “Don’t you remember that old fairy tale of Grimm’s; when the robber came back to the house in the wood he was bitten and kicked and scratched and pecked by the dog and the donkey and the cat and the rooster, and then they set up such a braying and barking and crowing and meowing that he ran away scared to death?”

“If anything did happen, we might try the howling part,” said Billie. “I should think a piercing shriek from a place like this would scare a brave man——”

“Sh-h, they’re almost here,” cautioned Ben. “Don’t move, any one. The floor will creak.”

“I’m going to sneeze,” hissed Nancy, in the dark.

“Press your upper lip and don’t dare do it,” whispered Elinor.

“Shut up, all of you,” said Ben, as the motor car drew up beside the hedge at one side of the house.

“If there is any shrieking to be done,” added Mary, “I’ll do it. I’m the best shrieker in the sophomore class. I know how to do it in the top of my head——”

“Sh-h-h!”