Mary hesitated. She did not want anybody to rummage among her books. But she hated to be “stingy,” and she felt as if she were really having more than her share of fun out of Aunt Nan’s legacy, in spite of John’s two thousand dollars. So she said generously, without letting John see how great an effort it was: “All right, Johnny. To-morrow is Saturday, and I’ll give you free leave to hunt all you want to in my library. I won’t even come to bother you.”

“Bully for you!” crowed John. “Finding’s having?”

But that was more than Mary bargained for.

“Oh, no, John!” she cried. “I don’t think Aunt Nan would like that. Do you?”

[70]“Oh, bother! I suppose not,” grumbled John. “She was a queer one!”

[70]

The next Saturday morning John spent in hunting that library from floor to ceiling. Caliban, sitting on a corner of the mantelpiece, watched him gravely during the whole operation, but offered no suggestions. John poked behind the books, in every corner, under every rug. He even ripped open a bit of the cover on the old sofa. But nothing interesting could he find.

“I say, Caliban, can’t you help me?” he said once, to the watching cat.

But Caliban only blinked, and gave his tail a little switch.

“I’ll give it up!” growled John at last, disgustedly, when Mary came to call him to dinner. “I guess you’ve got about all you are ever going to get out of Aunt Nan’s legacy. If Caliban knows anything more about it he won’t tell me. Anyway, I’ve got my two thousand, and that’s best of all.”

“All right, John,” retorted Mary good-naturedly. “I’ve got my two thousand books, anyway, and Caliban. So I am not complaining.”

She did not tell John that she still hoped to solve the mystery of the key on the green silk[71] cord; not to solve it by hunting or by hurrying, but in Aunt Nan’s own way, whatever that might be.

[71]

And Caliban, looking up at her, switched his tail and gave a wise, solemn wink.

[72]

CHAPTER IX THE ATTIC

 Prev. P 37/57 next