recovering her composure,
she remarked:

"Reda would pull up garden things. She couldn't seem to understand that
growing things were private property. You see, in her country every sort
of stuff grows so luxuriously Reda never could understand why it is
different here. She was always searching for greens to cook for Grandie,
and I was often afraid she would give him something poisonous," Mary
said. "Poor Reda," she sighed. "I wonder where she is?"

"But, Mary," urged Cleo, "do you know actually that you climbed out the
window in your nightie, and sat on a limb of the tree exactly like Peter
Pan in Kensington Gardens? I shall never forget how cute you looked,
even in lantern lights, as you hugged the button ball tree!" and at the
joyous memory all the girls fairly rolled in glee. Grace slid off the
improvised couch; Madaline doubled up on the steamer rug which was
serving as an Oriental on the floor, and Cleo put her perky little head
through such a course of exercises as would have done credit to a beauty
specialist in neck treatment. It was so very funny a thing to remember.
Mary perched in a tree a la Peter Pan, in her white night robe, Cleo
climbing out after her in her bluebird pajamas, then the spectators
around the base of the tree in various improvised garbs, not really
passed by the censor. Yes, it was howlingly--shriekingly funny, just now!

"But do let us get along with the mysteries," begged Grace, unwinding
herself. "Mary, you were going backwards and you haven't got past the
first tree."

"Well, I guess I will have to jump to the most interesting part," said
Mary. "You see, girls, my mother's folks didn't want her to marry my
daddy, because he wasn't rich. He was a scientist, and I am sure a
wonderful man, but mother's folks were very wealthy, and when she went
off exploring with daddy her folks sort of deserted her. Then, when she
fell ill, and daddy fell ill, and I was going to be all alone----" She
paused to choke back too determined a sigh, then continued. "When they
feared they were going, one of the other explorers promised to look out
for me. He is Grandie, but his name isn't Benson, but he doesn't know
that I know that. He lost a very precious treasure, and on account of
that he is sort of hiding, although he really never did a single thing
wrong," declared Mary, loyally.

"Did they go out on a regular exploring expedition?" asked Cleo very
seriously, a new thought coming to h