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Patty's Friends Part 27

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"You ought to have been, Grandy," declared Bob. "You look the part, and I'm sure there's a missing t.i.tle somewhere that belongs to you. Perhaps Uncle Marmaduke concealed it with the rest of his fortune."

"No, dear boy; we are not t.i.tled people. But the Cromartys are an old family, and much beloved and respected by all the country round."

"We are so!" declared Bob, with great enthusiasm.

CHAPTER XV

PUZZLING RHYMES



"As I was saying," continued Sinclair, "Mr. and Mrs. Hartley lived happily at Cromarty Manor. Three beautiful children were born to them, who have since grown to be the superior specimens of humanity you see before you. I am the oldest, and, as I may modestly remark, the flower of the family."

"Oh, I don't know," commented Patty, looking affectionately at Mabel.

"Well, anyway, as was only natural, the search for that hidden fortune went on at times. Perhaps a visitor would stir up the interest afresh, and attempts would be made to discover new meaning in Uncle Marmaduke's last words. And it was my father who succeeded in doing this. He sat in the library one day, looking over the old set of d.i.c.kens' works, which always had a fascinating air of holding the secret. He had not lived here long then, and was not very familiar with the books on the library shelves, but looking about he discovered another set of d.i.c.kens, a much newer set, and the volumes were bound in cloth, but almost entirely covered by a gilded decoration. Wait, I'll show you one."

Sinclair rose, and going into the library, returned in a moment with a copy of "Barnaby Rudge." It was bound in green cloth, but so ornate was the gold tooling that little green could be seen.

"d.i.c.kens--gold----" murmured Patty, her eyes s.h.i.+ning as she realised the new meaning in the words.

"Yes; and, sure enough that was what Uncle Marmaduke meant. Just think!

For fifteen years that set of books had stood untouched on the shelves, while people nearly wore out the older set, hunting for a clue to the fortune!"

"It's great!" declared Patty; "go on!"

"Well, this set of d.i.c.kens proved extremely interesting. Between the leaves of the books were papers of all sorts. Bills, deeds, banknotes, memoranda, and even a will."

"Then you had the fortune, at last?"

"No such luck. The banknotes and the few securities in the books amounted to a fair sum, which was gratefully appreciated by my parents, but as to the bulk of the fortune, it only made matters more tantalising than ever."

"Why?" asked Patty.

"One of the papers was a will, properly executed and witnessed, leaving all the fortune of which Uncle Marmaduke died possessed, to my mother.

Then, instead of a definite statement of where this money was deposited, were some foolish jingles hinting where to find it. These rhymes would be interesting as an old legend, or in a story book, but to find them instead of a heap of money, was, to say the least, disappointing."

"And did you never find the money?"

"Never. And, of course, now we never will. Remember all this happened twenty years ago. I mean the discovery of the papers. Of course, the money was hidden more than thirty-five years ago."

"And do you mean to say that you people are living here, in your own house, and your own money is hidden here somewhere, and you can't find it?"

"Exactly as you state it."

"Well! _I'd_ find it, if I had to tear the whole house down."

"Wait a minute, Miss Impetuosity. We don't think it's in the house."

"Oh, out of doors?"

"You're good at puzzles, I know, but just wait until you hear the directions that came with the package, and I think you'll admit it's a hopeless problem."

"May she see them, Mother?" said Mabel. "Will you get them out for us?"

"Not to-night, dear. I'll show the old papers to Patty, some other time; but now Sinclair can tell her the lines just as well."

"Of all the papers in the books," Sinclair went on, "only two seemed to be directions for finding the money, although others vaguely hinted that the fortune was concealed. And still others gave the impression that Uncle Marmaduke meant to tell mother all about it; but as his death came upon him so suddenly, of course he could not do this. On these two papers are rhymes, which we children have known by heart all our lives. One is:

"'Great treasure lieth in the poke Between the fir trees and the oak.'

"You see uncle was a true poet."

"What does the poke mean?" asked Patty.

"Oh, a poke is a pocket; or a hiding-place of any sort. Of course, this information sent father to digging around every fir tree and oak tree on the place. As you know, there are hundreds of both kinds of trees, so the directions can't be called explicit."

"But," said Patty, wrinkling her brow, "it says 'between the fir trees and the oak,' as if it meant a clump of firs and only one big oak."

"Yes; that's what has been surmised. And many a separate oak tree that stands near a group of firs has been thoroughly investigated. But wait; there's another clue. On a separate paper these words are written:

"'Above the stair, across the hall, Between the bedhead and the wall, A careful searching will reveal The n.o.ble fortune I conceal.'

"There, could anything be plainer than that?"

"Then the money is _in_ the house!" exclaimed Patty.

"Take your choice. There are the two declarations. It may be he concealed the money in one place, and then transferred it to another. Or it may be he put part in the ground, and part in the house."

"But, 'between the bedhead and the wall,' is so definite. There are not so very many bedrooms, you know."

"True enough. And of course, when my father found that paper, he went directly upstairs, crossed the hall, and so reached Uncle Marmaduke's own bedroom. The furniture had been moved about, but Grandy remembered where the head of the bed stood in Uncle's time. They searched thoroughly, took up flooring, took down wainscoting, and all that, to no avail."

"Of course, they tried other 'bedheads'?"

"Yes, tell her about it, Grandy."

"Yes," said Mrs. Cromarty, placidly. "All the bedrooms in the house, even the servants' rooms, were subjected to most careful scrutiny. Although so many years had elapsed, I could remember where the various beds stood when Marmaduke was with us. Behind each, we had the walls sounded, and in some cases, broken into. We even looked for pockets or receptacles of some sort on the backs of the headboards themselves, but never a trace of anything could we find."

"It's very exciting!" said Patty; "how can you all be so calm about it? I should think you'd be searching every minute!"

"You must remember, dear," said Mrs. Hartley, "it's an old story to us.

At first, we were indeed excited. For several years we searched almost continuously. Then hope began to fail, and our investigations became intermittent. Every now and then we would make a fresh attempt, but invariably repeated failures dampened our enthusiasm."

"It's _so_ interesting," sighed Patty. "Can't we get up a little of the old enthusiasm, and do some searching while I'm here?"

"Indeed, we can," cried Bob. "Would you prefer an excavating party, with picks and spades, or an indoor performance in the old bedrooms?"

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