e letter in her hands. "Come
along, girls. Whatever it is we may all know it, I don't want any
_new_ secrets; the _old_ ones are heavy enough burdens."

Up in Cleo's room, under the softly shaded light, Mary tore open the
envelope. She knew the hand was laboriously penned by some foreigner.
Then she read aloud:

"Reda is sick. She says you can't come here, but wants her things.
Send the box by express. Reda will come out when she can walk.

"Carmia Frantez."

An address was carefully spelled out, and there followed this
postscript.

"I go to school, and we don't want Janos to get our letters. Dominic
is going to take this out on the train; he is a good honest boy.
Answer to this house by the number I give here. Carmia."

"Oh!" exclaimed Mary, staring at her companions. "That must have been
the man we saw behind the tree. And this Carmia is a little girl I
have heard Reda speak of. Now what shall I do! Poor Reda!" she
sighed. "I hope she is not very sick."

"Let's go the first thing in the morning to pack her box," suggested
Cleo. "Then we can send it to her by express," and this plan was
promptly decided upon.

CHAPTER XIX

HIDDEN TREASURES

A feeling akin to relief, if not that of actual safety, brightened the
girls next day when, with keen anticipation for the promised
excitement, they started off for a hike to the studio, there to box up
Reda's belongings, and also to hunt for possible clews to the
ever-deepening mystery of Mary's identity, and the professor's secret.

Having assured Mrs. Dunbar that the next door neighbors to the studio
were easily within call, as well as convincing her that gardeners and
workmen were constantly in the fields and estates adjoining the studio,
she consented to their going in charge of Shep, who was now fully
recovered from his wound and lame leg.

It was early, and the dew still lay in a liquid veil over the grass and
wild flowers along the way, but the Girl Scouts, Mary being a novice
and on probation, were too much interested and excited to observe the
beauties of nature this day.

"I suppose Reda has lots of queer things," ventured Madaline when they
had passed the mountain house and started on the down-grade the other
side.

"Yes," replied Mary. "She was always bringing things from New York.
Her sort of people never seem to have enough. They keep storing and
piling up every sort of trash. Grandie would get out of patience at
times