these letters in the trunk?"

"My theory collapses right there," Penny admitted ruefully. "I can't
figure that part out at all."

"Let's read the other letters," Susan suggested. "We may learn
something from them."

The remaining communications were of no help at all. They were merely
friendly letters written by Jenny to her brother telling him how much
she and her son were enjoying their stay at the Lakes. She spoke at
some length of her declining health and in one paragraph mentioned that
if anything ever happened to her she trusted Herman would take good
care of Walter.

"After receiving a letter like that how could the old man be mean
enough to act the way he did?" Susan asked angrily. "It serves him
right to lose the fortune! I'm glad that Walter finally learned the
truth."

"So am I," Penny agreed. "Only it's too bad the young man couldn't
have turned out to be a nicer type."

"He may not have had the advantage of a good home."

"I realize that, but aside from breeding, I don't like him."

"The point is--what shall we do with these letters?"

"Oh, I guess I'll have to give them back," Penny sighed. "I'll do it
sometime before Thursday night."

She retied the letters and slipped them into her pocket. Before the
girls could leave the ravine, they heard someone coming through the
woods.

A moment later Michael Haymond appeared along the path. He was
whistling a tune but broke off as he noticed Penny and Susan.

"Hello," he said pleasantly. "It's another warm day, isn't it?"

Penny and Susan had been too busy to notice the weather, but they
agreed that it was unpleasantly humid. Michael paused to chat for a
minute or two, and took out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead.

"Have you been cutting more wood?" Penny asked with a smile.

"Yes, I didn't know what else to do."

"We have enough wood to last longer than we'll remain at the cottage,"
Penny said. "Why don't you try resting now and then?"

"I'm not paid to do that."

"You more than earn your salary," Penny told him. "Dad doesn't care
whether you keep busy or not."

"Your father has been very good to me," Michael said soberly. "I don't
feel right about it. I think he's keeping me on because he knows I'd
have trouble getting any other job."

"Nonsense, Michael."

"I don't feel right about drawing pay for nothing," the young man
repeated.

"You let him worry about that," Penny laughed. "Anyway, I suppose
we'll be going