r a long ride before the two men had finished
their conference. It was almost dinner time when they returned with rosy
cheeks and sparkling eyes, greatly invigorated after their drive. A.
Bubble had behaved himself splendidly. Ruth said he worked much better
than before the accident. Bab suggested that it might be an excellent
idea to have him collide with a pair of stout iron gates at regular
intervals.

Bob Stevens had left his maps and diagrams for the girls to look over,
which they did after dinner. They were unable to make anything out of
the lines and figures of the treasure hunter. Mollie declared that the
man who made them must surely have been insane.

For an hour after dinner the Presbys and their guests chatted in what
was called the drawing room, a long, low, barn-like apartment, almost
rustic in its fittings and furnishings. The dining room being cleared,
Olive called the girls there. They found the room in darkness save for
the light shed by the fire in the fireplace and five candles arranged on
the sideboard.

"One for each girl present," explained Olive.

"To light us to bed?" questioned Mollie.

"No, indeed," smiled Olive. "Bedtime is still a long way off. We are
going to have a feast by candle light."

"I couldn't eat another mouthful after the dinner we had to-night. It
would be a physical impossibility," declared Bab.

"Don't make any rash assertions until you see what I have provided for
you in the way of a feast," replied Olive, as she took a large, flat tin
box from the lower compartment of the old-fashioned sideboard. "Ruth,"
she continued, "if you will draw the rugs up close to the fireplace we
will lose no time in beginning the festivities."

Ruth Stuart did so, arranging the rugs in a semi-circle. But the
interest of the girls was centred on the tin box, not on the rugs, just
at that time. Then Olive brought out five long, slender white sticks,
which she distributed among the girls.

"Aren't you going to open the box?" begged Grace anxiously. "Can't you
see we are dying with curiosity to know what is inside?"

"Bab, you may open the box."

The cover was off almost before the words had left Olive's lips.

"Marshmallows!" cried the girls in chorus. "Oh, isn't that simply
glorious?"

"And such a lot of them, too," added Grace Carter.

"Five pounds," Olive informed them. "We are about to sit down to a
marshmallow toast. Eat all you wish, but for goodness sake do not make
yourselv