, and with us worrying as we are,
I am sure that if he had any of our papers he would show them to
mother. I know my grandfather trusted him more than he even trusted my
father, his own son; but that is easy to understand, for Denny had
settled for life here, near the property, while father was likely to
go to any part of the world, had he lived. He always wanted to
travel."

"This is a splendid afternoon to write letters," Cora remarked, "and I
owe a very long one to mother. That, at least, I will get off on the
last mail."

"I have some to write, too," Freda rejoined. "I had that very task in
mind. I have to write to those 'in-laws' I interviewed last week. They
will think I am very ungrateful not to have written since my return.
So long," she called out cheerily. "I hope when mother comes back we
will all have cause to rejoice. That friend of father's is a very good
lawyer."

"But he may not be able to say much until he has had a chance to look
into the case," said prudent Cora. "We must not expect results so
soon."

"Oh, I do," persisted Freda. "I know when he hears all that mother has
to tell him he will be able to say something quite definite."

So the girls parted, Cora to go to her letter writing, and Freda to
hers. It seemed the entire household at the Mote was very busy that
afternoon, some resting for the evening, others arranging the fussy
trifles so important to young girls.

It was getting dark when Freda came out at the side porch and looked
anxiously down the road.

"Mother should have come on that train," she told herself. Then she
waited to hear the train pass at the second crossing. "She would be on
her way up now if she came," Freda reflected, "I'll get my things on
and go to meet her."

Coming down the stairs she called Cora, but receiving no reply she did
not wait to find her. She expected to be gone only a few minutes and
it was not worth while to wait to tell Cora where she was going.

The dusk came down quickly. Even as Freda passed under the big elm
tree she could not see the moss at its trunk.

She hastened on, and was almost startled into a scream as she heard a
noise. It was but the tinkle of a bell.

"Someone on a bicycle!" exclaimed Freda, in relief.

The bell tinkled again, and through an opening in the trees she caught
a glimpse of the messenger boy from the railroad station. He saw her
and called:

"A message for you!"

"A message for me?" she repeated in surprise. "