The Corner House Girls' Odd Find

That was a terrible moment in the lives of the two older Corner House girls.

Terrible for Ruth, because she saw crushed thus unexpectedly her desire to make Mrs. Eland and her sister happy and comfortable for life. Terrible for Agnes, because she could think of nobody but Neale O’Neil who could have got at the album and abstracted the money and bonds.

“Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!” wailed Agnes, and threw herself into a chair, despairingly.

Ruth was pallid. Barnabetta Scruggs stared at the two Corner House girls with horrified, wide-open eyes.

“Now —now,” the circus girl muttered, “you girls won’t ever believe a word I say!”

“Why not, Barnabetta?” asked Agnes.

“I told your sister I put that album in the closet – and I did. But I didn’t take even one banknote out of the book!”

“I believe you, Barnabetta,” Ruth said faintly. “But – but who is the robber?”

“I was enough of a thief to take the book out of Neale’s bag,” said the circus girl. “But I didn’t even look into it. I didn’t have time.”

“How did you come to do it?” asked Agnes, curiously.

“I heard Neale when he came here Saturday night. Of course, I knew ’twas him by his voice and what you girls said. And I heard there was some kind of a row.”

“There was,” sighed Agnes.

“I came down and listened at the door of that other room where you girls and Neale were talkin’. I heard him say the book was in his bag on the porch, and I knew that bag didn’t have any lock to it.”

“Of course,” groaned Ruth.

“I was goin’ to get it before he came out; but he flung open the sittin’ room door so quick he pretty near caught me. I crouched down in the corner at the foot of the stairs and if he hadn’t been so mad,” said Barnabetta, “he must have seen me.

“But he didn’t, and when he was gone I went outside and got the book. You girls were still in the sittin’ room; but I heard somebody up in the back hall and I was afraid to go upstairs, either by the back or the front flight.

“So I slipped into the dinin’ room and there was little Dottie. I kept the book behind me and didn’t know what to do with it. But Dottie ran out of the room and I plumped it into that closet and shut the door quick,” finished Barnabetta.

“And is that all?” Ruth said, very much disappointed.

“I – I never saw the book again till just now.”

“Oh!” began Agnes, when the circus girl interrupted her, jerkily.

“I – I tried to see it. I was goin’ to steal the money – or, some of it, anyway. I know you’ll think me awful. But – but we were so hard up, and all – just the same, I couldn’t get into the closet again.

“I staid awake Saturday night, and when I thought everybody was abed and the house was still, I came down here in this boy’s suit – ”

“Oh!” cried Agnes again – and this time in a much relieved tone. But Barnabetta did not notice.

“Your aunt came down with her candle for those peppermints before I could get at the book.”

“But what did you do then?” asked the eager and curious Agnes.

“I was just about crazy,” admitted the circus girl. “I thought I’d done that sin of stealin’ the book and it had done us no good. I wanted to run away right then and there – I’d have left poor Pop behind.

“But when I got the porch door out there ready to open, I heard your old dog snuffin’ outside, and it scared me pretty near to death. I knew he wouldn’t let me out – and I was afraid he’d bite me if I let him in.

“So I ran upstairs and shut myself into that room again. And I didn’t dare come out till mornin’.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” gasped Agnes, under her breath. “It wasn’t Neale O’Neil!”

But this did not explain the mystery of the disappearance of the treasure trove that had been found in the Corner House garret. The Kenway girls were sure that Barnabetta Scruggs had told them the truth. She was not to blame for the actual robbery.

“And that must have occurred some time before you came down to look for the book Saturday night, Barnabetta,” Ruth said. “What time was it?”

“Oh, about midnight.”

“Then the robber got at the book some time in the hour between half past ten and half past eleven. Mrs. MacCall did not retire until half past ten, that is sure.”

“But how did he get in, and how did he get out, and who, for pity’s sake, is he?” cried Agnes.

Ruth shook her head. She might have said that her acquaintance among burglars was just as limited as Agnes’ own.

Only, this was no occasion for humor. The loss of a treasure amounting, possibly, to a hundred thousand dollars was no subject for raillery.

“What will Mr. Howbridge say!” groaned Ruth.

“Oh, dear me! Let’s not worry about what he says!” cried Agnes. “It’s nothing to him. Think of it! We are the losers of all that money.”

“No,” Ruth said quickly.

“Why not? What do you mean?” demanded her sister.

“It is a great loss, an irreparable loss, to the real owners of the fortune.”

“Well, who are they?” demanded Agnes. “We don’t know them. I suppose the courts would have to decide. But I guess a part of the money, anyway, would come to us. Enough to buy an automobile.”

“No,” repeated Ruth, shaking her head.

“Why not?” cried her sister. “Of course it’s ours!”

“That’s what I say. But your sister wants to give it all away,” said Barnabetta.

“Give it all away!” cried Agnes.

“It isn’t ours – or, it wasn’t ours – to give,” Ruth declared.

“I should say not!” ejaculated the puzzled Agnes.

“But I do know whom it belonged to,” said Ruth, quietly.

“Not Aunt Sarah?” gasped Agnes.