The Corner House Girls' Odd Find

She was plucky and she started for him instantly, grabbing a good-sized handful of snow as she did so. Neale uttered a shout and turned to run; but he caught his heel in something and went over backward into the drift he himself had piled up at the hen house door when he had shoveled the path.

“I’ve got you – you scamp!” declared the Corner House girl, and fell upon him with the snowball and rubbed his face well with it. Neale actually squealed for mercy.

“Lemme up!”

“Got enough?”

“Yep!”

“Say ‘enough,’ then,” ordered Agnes, cramming some more snow down the victim’s neck.

“Can’t – it tickles my tongue. Ouch! Look out! Your turn will come yet, miss.”

“Do anything I say if I let you up?” demanded Agnes, who had half buried Neale by her own weight in the soft snow.

“Yep! Ouch! Don’t! Play fair!”

“Then you’ll come right into the house and talk to me and Ruthie about that awful money?” demanded Agnes, getting up.

Neale started to rise, and then sat back in the snow.

“What money?” he demanded.

“The money and bonds that were stuck into the old album.”

“What about them?”

“Oh, Neale! Oh, Neale!” cried Agnes, on the verge of tears. “The money is gone.”

“Huh?”

“It isn’t in the book! We – we never looked till to-night, and – what do you think? Somebody got into the house and robbed us – of all that money! And it belonged to Mrs. Eland and her sister. Mr. Lemuel Aden hid it in our garret. Now! isn’t that awful?”

For a minute Neale made no reply. Agnes thought he must be struck actually dumb by the horror and surprise which the announcement caused him. Then he made a funny noise and got up out of the snow. His face was in the shadow.

“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Agnes.“Didn’t you hear?”

“Yes – I heard,” said Neale, in a peculiar tone. “What did you say about that stuff in the book?”

“Why, Neale! it is good. At least, the money is. Ruth went again to the bank and she is sure she had the right banknote examined this time. And, of course, if one was good the rest were!”

“Ye-es,” said Neale, still speaking oddly. “But what about Mrs. Eland?”

“It belonged to her – all that money – and her sister. You see, Lemuel Aden stayed here at the old Corner House just before he died and he left this book here because he believed it would be safe. He said Uncle Peter was a fool, but honest. Horrid old thing!”

“Who – Uncle Peter?” asked Neale.

“No – Lemuel Aden. And then he went and died and never said anything about the money only in his diary, and Mrs. Eland showed it to Ruth in the diary, and Ruth knew what it meant, but she didn’t tell Mrs. Eland. And now, Neale O’Neil, somebody’s followed you down from that Tiverton place, knowing you had that book, and got into our house and taken all that money – ”

“Gee, Aggie!” cried the boy, interrupting the stream of this monologue. “You’ll lose your breath talking so much. Let’s go in and see about this.”

“Oh, Neale! Will you?”

“Yes. I was coming to call you out anyway,” said the boy, gruffly. “You’re a good kid, Aggie. But Ruth can be too fresh – ”

“You don’t know how worried she’s been – how worried we’ve both been,” Agnes said.

“That’s all right. But I’m honest. I wouldn’t have stolen that money.”

“Of course not, Neale,” cried Agnes, but secretly condemned because there had been a time when, for a few hours, she herself had almost doubted the honesty of the white-haired boy.

“But somebody must have seen it in your possession, and come down with you and stolen it.”

“Huh! You think so?”

“How else can you explain it?” demanded the voluble Agnes, the pent up waters of her imagination overflowing now. “Of course it was very dangerous indeed for you to be carrying all that wealth around with you. Why, Neale! you might have been killed for it.

“The – the book was put in that old closet in the dining room chimney. And Aunt Sarah locked the door, not knowing there was anything of importance in the closet but her peppermints. And then we couldn’t unlock it because the lock was fouled.

“And so, we don’t know when the money was taken. But we broke the lock of the closet this afternoon and there it was – the book, I mean – empty!”

Neale was leading her toward the house. “Great Peter’s pipe!” he gasped. “You can talk nineteen to the dozen and no mistake, Aggie. Hush, will you, till we get inside?”

Agnes was rather offended at this. She went up the porch steps ahead and opened the door into the hall. Ruth was just going into the sitting room.

“Oh, Ruthie! are you alone?” whispered Agnes.

“Goodness! how you startled me,” said the older sister. “There’s nobody in the sitting room. What do you want? Oh!”

“It’s Neale,” said Agnes, dragging the boy in. “And you’ve got to tell him how sorry you are for what you said!”

“Well – I like that!” exclaimed Ruth.

“You know you’re sorry,” pleaded the peacemaker. “Say so!”

“Well, I am! Come in, Neale O’Neil. Between us, you and I have made an awful mess of this thing. Mrs. Eland and Miss Pepperill have lost all their fortune.”

“How’s that?” asked the boy, easily.

“Didn’t Agnes tell you that the money and bonds have been stolen?”

“Why – she said so,” admitted Neale.

“Well!” exclaimed Ruth.

“Well!” exclaimed Agnes.

“I guess you are worried about not much of anything,” said Neale O’Neil, lightly.