find your buried fortune."

"Ah, that would be a help," cried Sinclair, also assuming a gayer tone.
"If you'll help us to do that, I'll set up a memorial tablet to your
cleverness."

"Where will you set it? Between the fir trees and the oak?"

"Yes, if you find the fortune there."

"But if I find it behind the headboard, that's no sort of a place for a
tablet!"

"You can choose your own spot for your Roll of Fame, and I'll see to it
that the memorial is a worthy one."

"And will you put fresh flowers on it every day?"

"Yes, indeed; for if--I mean _when_, you find the fortune for us, the
gardens will have immediate attention."

"Then I must set to work at once," said Patty, with pretended gravity,
but in her heart she registered a mental vow to try in earnest to fulfil
the promise given in jest.

CHAPTER XVII

THE GRIFFIN AND THE ROSE

Although the Hartleys had practically given up all hope of ever finding
the hidden money, they couldn't help being imbued with Patty's
enthusiasm.

Indeed, it took little to rouse the sleeping fires of interest that never
were entirely extinguished.

But though they talked it over by the hour there seemed to be nothing to
do but talk.

One day, Patty went out all by herself, determined to see if she couldn't
find some combination of an oak tree and a group of firs that would
somehow seem especially prominent.

But after looking at a score or more of such combinations, she realised
that task was futile.

She looked at the ground under some of them, but who could expect a mark
of any kind on the ground after nearly forty years? No. Unless Mr.
Marmaduke Cromarty had marked his hiding-place with a stone or iron
plate, it would probably never be found by his heirs. Search in the house
was equally unsatisfactory. What availed it to scan a wall or a bedstead
that had been scrutinised for years by eager, anxious eyes? And then
Patty set her wits to work. She tried to think where an erratic old
gentleman would secrete his wealth. And she was forced to admit that the
most natural place was in the ground on his estate, the location to be
designated by some obscure message. And surely, the message was obscure
enough!

She kept her promise to help Bob in his self-appointed task of going
through all the books in the library. This was no small piece of work,
for it was not enough to shake each book, and let loose papers, if any,
drop out. Some of the old papers had been