"Somebody was in here!" exclaimed Bet.

"Don't be silly, Bet! I thought you were too big to be frightened in the dark."

"Well look at that window, Kit Patten! Did we leave it open? We certainly didn't. And look how the costumes are all tumbled out of the chests! A man has been in here, anyway. I saw him slide out that window."

"And look at the footprints!" exclaimed Kit.

"Nothing to worry about. This is a costume party and someone is playing a trick on us," decided Kit.

"Maybe so," assented Bet. "But if so, why didn't they play their tricks instead of just mussing things up and then running away?"

Grabbing a gown of gold cloth, Bet exclaimed, "Come on, girls, let's get out of here. It's spooky!"

"Lock the window first, Bet. Then if anyone is prowling around they can't get back this way," Kit suggested.

"Who could it have been?" puzzled Bob Evans when they reported the episode to the guests. "I know all the boys, and none of them would do a thing like that."

Phil and Bob rushed out to the veranda but saw no one on the grounds. Uncle Nat's sharp eyes soon picked up the footprints in the snow and followed them to the road where they were lost. On his return, he let Smiley Jim out of the basement, and the dog ran around the house, quite excited, with so many people around.

The young people decided that it might be one of the guests trying to fool the others.

"But I don't believe it," said Bet emphatically.

The gown chosen for Laura Sands was an old French costume and when the girls dressed her she looked like a queen.

"Why girls, she looks exactly like a picture of Marie Antoinette, don't you think so, Bet?" called Kit.

"And I know just the thing to make it perfect."

"The fan! She must carry the queen's fan!"

"Oh Bet, I wouldn't do that! You know your father prizes that fan so much."

"He won't care. Anyway, Laura will be careful."

Bet ran up stairs to her father's den, rummaged in the drawers and found the fan.

"Here, Laura, you may carry this, but be very careful for it's one of my father's treasures. He loves that fan."

"Oh I'll be careful. Isn't it beautiful!"

"If I were you, Laura, I'd take a few turns around the rooms, show off the fan and then put it away. It's an antique and I know it's valuable."

It was Phil Gordon who spoke, as he examined the fan and returned it to her.

But Laura did not seem to realize that the fan had any great value. Phil picked it up several times when she had left it carelessly on chairs or tables, and after it had been lost and found several times, he refused to give it back to her.

In the midst of the gaiety, Joy ran into the room, pale with fright. "I don't think it's fair," she complained. "One of the boys was hiding in the hall, and frightened me."

"Who was it?" demanded Bet indignantly.

"I don't know," replied Joy. "He ran down the hall as fast as he could go."

"Let's find him," exclaimed Phil Gordon.

"And if it's one of the boys we'll send him home," said Bob.

"I wish you would." Bet was troubled. With her father away, she felt that the young people should not take advantage in that way.

But they could not find anyone in the rooms.

"Maybe you just imagined it, Joy," said brother.

"No, I don't think she did. I heard a noise a little while ago when I put the fan away. I thought at the time it was Smiley Jim."

"When was that?" asked Bet.

"About fifteen minutes ago, I left the fan on top of your father's desk, Bet."

"All right, Phil. But I'd certainly like to know who is prowling around."

"It's probably one of the boys from the village who didn't get an invitation. They do that sometimes," suggested Phil. "They are probably trying to break up the party, and we're letting them do it."'

"That's right!" exclaimed the young people. "Aren't we silly! Let's get back to the games."

The scare was soon forgotten as the boys and girls became engrossed in their play and Smiley was brought in to do tricks.

But after the last guest had gone and Bet and her three chums, who were to spend the night with her, were tucked into bed. Bet thought she heard noise in her father's room.

She was out of bed in a second. "Oh I do believe Daddy came back after all," she whispered a ran into the den.

As she switched on the light, she imagined she saw a shadow at the window. Then she took herself in hand. "Bet Baxter, you're being silly! Just because you saw someone going out the attic window you imagine you see it again! Go back to bed!"

As she was returning to her room, she had an idea and slipped down to the basement quietly so she wouldn't waken Uncle Nat. She opened the door and Smiley Jim bounded into the garden with a growl.

As Bet went up stairs again, she heard the dog running about and smiled to herself. "He's had so much excitement, he's nervous too."

Reaching her room she saw her father's photograph on her desk. She picked it up, "Dear old Dad, I wonder what was worrying you when you went away today. You looked so sad. I'm so silly I never want to see anything but joy on your dear face. Goodnight Daddy boy!" And Bet slipped into bed and was soon fast asleep.



CHAPTER XIV

THE LOST FAN

The morning was half gone when the four chums finally awoke and felt the need of breakfast.

"Come on girls, let's get up," called Kit, as she sprang out of bed and ran from room to room to make sure that the girls were rising. "I'm going to be dressed first and go down and help Auntie Gibbs make the toast."

But when Kit arrived in the kitchen she found the old lady singing at her work, and therefore in a happy mood. Her party had been a success and she felt a personal triumph. Breakfast was ready.

While the girls were eating, the door bell rang three times.

"There's the mail! Oh Uncle Nat, is there a letter for me?"

"Of course, you know that without asking. Your Dad always writes and if he thinks a letter may not reach you, he sends a telegram."

"Sure. Give it to me!" And Bet tore open the letter eagerly and read it.

"Oh Auntie Gibbs, come here this minute until I tell you something wonderful. Just think! Dad says the queen's fan is worth a fortune. Somebody wants to buy it for a lot of money!"

"Oh, oh!" exclaimed the girls in one voice.

"You don't say so! Isn't that fine, now? Where is this queen and her fan?" asked Auntie Gibbs.

"It's one of Dad's antiques. I showed it to you."

"Oh that!—And you say it's worth a fortune? Well, some folks spend money for foolishness, if you ask me."

Bet paid no attention to Auntie Gibbs' remarks. "Listen girls," she said. "I'm to go down at once and put it in the safety deposit box. Dad's got a cash offer for it. And he says it will save the estate."

"What does he mean by that?" asked Kit. "Save the estate?"

"I hardly know. I'm really puzzled about that."

"I didn't know your father was having any business troubles, Bet, though I had noticed that he'd lost his appetite lately," said Auntie Gibbs.

"I knew something was bothering him," mused Bet, "but I never guessed it was about money or the estate. Poor Dad, and I wasn't any comfort to him at all."

"You're always a comfort to your father, Bet," protested the old lady.

"He dotes on you!" exclaimed Shirley.

"Oh, of course, I know that. Now I'm going to go right down to the bank and put that fan away."

Bet hurried up stairs followed by the girls. "Get your hats and coats on and I'll get the fan."

Bet ran into her father's room. She looked in the drawer where the fan should have been. She rummaged through the contents of the desk and fear seized her as she became certain the fan was missing.

"Are you almost ready, Bet? We're waiting!" called Joy.

"We'll all escort the queen's fan to the bank," laughed Kit.

"No, I'm not ready yet," Bet replied with a strained voice. "Oh Auntie Gibbs, come here," she called from the head of the stairs. "Did you see the fan? Phil left it on the desk."

The old lady came hurriedly up stairs. "Why did Phil have it? I haven't seen a thing of it."

"Oh, I was terrible! I took the fan from the drawer and loaned it to Laura Sands to wear with her French costume."

"What made you do such a thing, Bet? I'm surprised at you!"

"I just didn't think. And oh dear, Dad won't take that as any excuse! We must find it, Auntie Gibbs. We must!"

Everyone joined in the hunt with growing excitement, and the house was searched, even the attic. But the fan was gone.

"Maybe Phil didn't put it on the desk, at all. He probably has it in his pocket and forgot all about it. Let's call him on the phone and see what he says," exclaimed Kit.

But Bet stopped suddenly: "Oh Auntie Gibbs, perhaps that was a robber that I thought I saw going out the window. Maybe he stole the fan!"

"Nonsense child, you are still nervous. Now quiet down and we'll find the fan somewhere. We'll call Phil, now," soothed Auntie Gibbs.

Anxiously Bet called, but the boy was not home and Mrs. Gordon said casually that she would tell Phil to give them a ring when he came in. She had no idea that a lost fan was important.

Bet was quite indignant for a moment. "To hear her talk you'd think that it would be all right if he called next week."

"But Mrs. Gordon doesn't know anything about how valuable it is, Bet," explained Kit. "You mustn't blame her."

"I know, of course, but I'm terribly worried."

"I think the best thing to do is to telegraph your father at once," suggested Uncle Nat.

"And that's just what I can't do. Dad has gone on a trip and he says he won't have an address until the first of the week."

"I'm going down to the village to find Phil and talk it over with him," announced Kit decisively. "Let's all go!"

The four girls walked all through the town but, though they hunted everywhere, they did not find Phil. Shirley and Joy went into Shirley's Shop and sat there for an hour, hoping he might pass. But evening came and still Phil had not been home.

Bet was at supper when Phil Gordon called her at last. She was trembling as she said, "I must see you at once, Phil. Can you come up?"

Phil caught the note of worry in her voice and answered, "I'll be there in an hour, Bet. Is that O.K.?"

"I wonder what's the matter, son. Bet has called several times today," said his mother.

"I can't imagine what it is. I'll get ready and go right away. If there is anything I can do for Bet, I'll be glad to help. She's one of the finest girls I know. She's never silly, just out and out, and treats you as if she were another boy. I like that!"

Phil wasted no time on his supper. Even his mother urged him to hurry.

"I do hope nothing is wrong with Colonel Baxter, that would make Bet worry," Mrs. Gordon said as Phil left her.

When Bet opened the door for Phil, he saw at once that something unusual was troubling her.

"Phil, I just had to see you. I can't find that fan we had the other night. Do tell me just where you put it!"

"Why Bet, I put it right on your father's desk, back toward the wall, so no one would knock it off.—You know Laura was being so careless with it that I got worried and took it from her."

"Are you positive you put it there, Phil?"

"Yes, Bet, of course I am."

"Father sent me word to get it into the safety deposit at once. He's had an offer for it. It's worth a lot of money, and he needs money badly just now."

"Why Bet, have you any idea what could have happened to it? Would anyone around here know about it and try to steal it when your father is away?"

"I don't know. Dad seemed so anxious in his letter and instructed me so carefully about putting it away, that I think he must have been afraid of thieves. He said: 'Get it into the safety deposit box at once. It's important! I trust you!' And now I can't find it. What shall I do?"

"You say you thought you heard someone in your father's room after the party that night. Is there anyone who would know about the fan and come prowling around to get it?"

"I wish I knew that, Phil. Just now I can't imagine what has happened to it."

"I know what I'm going to do, Bet. I'm going to go down to the police office and talk to Chief Baldwin, tell him the whole story and ask his advice. I'll do that at once. Enough time has been wasted."

Phil was away before Bet could stop him, even if she had tried. And when Chief Baldwin heard only part of the story, he decided to hear the rest on the spot and returned to the Manor with Phil.

Chief Baldwin went over the whole house with Bet and Phil. In the attic he saw the footprints still on the floor, in the dust, and Uncle Nat told him of following the same marks in the snow, to the main road.

"Why didn't you get me on the job, then, I'd like to know? Why did you delay?"

"We all thought it was one of the village boys who was not invited, and decided he'd try to break up the party."

"Still, with Colonel Baxter away, you should have let me know at once. I sort of feel responsible and if anything happened to Bet when he was away I'm sure he'd blame me."

In spite of her anxiety, Bet had to laugh. "You're as bad as Auntie Gibbs. Her responsibility weighs heavily on her, and when Dad is out of town, she almost sets me crazy."

"You see, Bet, we all think so highly of your father that we do not take any chances in displeasing him. Now about this fan! Who was the last person to have it?"

"I was," answered Phil without hesitation. "I took it from Laura Sands because she was being careless, and I put it on Colonel Baxter's desk in the den."

"Have you asked Laura Sands about it?" inquired the Chief.

"Yes, and she says that Phil took it away from her."

The Chief insisted on going over the rooms again carefully, but still the fan was not found.

"The best thing to do," said Chief Baldwin, as he saw Bet's troubled face, "is to put a good detective on the job. And we'll find the queen's fan, I promise you that."

"When can you find it? Before Monday? Dad may be back on Monday."

Everybody laughed. "Well Bet, that's asking a little too much, even of the Chief, just when the fan will be found. But I give you my word, it will be recovered."

Bet felt somewhat better after the optimistic talk with Chief Baldwin and for that night, at least, she laid aside her worries.

But Phil was not at all reassured by Chief Baldwin's promise. He was unhappy and despondent as he told his mother the whole story from beginning to end.

"I'm terribly uncomfortable, because I was the last to handle it, Mother," confided the boy. "Would anyone have imagined that such a thing could happen?"

"Are you sure you did return it? Perhaps it is in the pocket of your overcoat. I'm going to see," and his mother left the room.

But Phil knew the fan was not there. And that night he was disturbed even in his dreams and woke at intervals with the feeling that all the troubles of the universe weighed him down.

The next morning he was again with Chief Baldwin and Amos Longworth, the detective, a tight-lipped stranger with narrow eyes, who had been chosen to look into the matter. Together they went to the Manor and looked over the rooms as before. Longworth examined the footprints in the dust and in the snow outside. "That's some foot! I should think you'd be able to trace a man by that foot. It's a whale!"

"And that's why we thought it was someone masquerading. No one in our crowd has a foot that size."

But if Phil was nervous and depressed over what had happened up to this time, he had reason to be still more concerned when the detective accompanied him home and began to question him privately. Before an hour had passed, Longworth had made him confess that he and his mother were very poor and that he might have to leave school to work. Also that he realized the fan was very valuable.

"Yes, I knew the fan was worth a lot of money. Colonel Baxter told us so. It's painted by a famous French artist and was at one time the property of Marie Antoinette. It was given to her by Louis XV. That's enough to make it very valuable."

"You know all about it, I see. So you put it in your pocket?"

"No. I took it to the Colonel's den, and put it on his desk."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Didn't you feel any temptation to take it and sell it to get money?"

"No, sir, I did not! Such a thought never entered my head. It belonged to Colonel Baxter. He is my friend and I would not hurt him in any way—or Bet either."

Mrs. Gordon came in and was introduced and while she spoke of the theft of the fan and her unhappiness at Phil's part in the matter, the detective did not again take an aggressive tone. Yet his narrow eyes showed suspicion.

Not being able to get word to her father, Bet brooded over the loss of the fan and it took all the ingenuity of her three friends to keep her cheerful. For the first time they found Bet inclined to be irritable.

"Now please don't mind me, girls! I'm just worried almost sick. If Dad hadn't added that last line about saving the estate, I wouldn't feel so badly about it. I'm afraid he's had some serious business trouble, and if anything happens to the fan through my carelessness, what shall I do?"

"Well, everything is being done that can be done, as far as I see," said Joy, who was in no mood for dancing now that Bet was unhappy.

"But it's such slow work! And being just a girl, I have to sit here twiddling my thumbs, not doing a single thing to find the fan," exclaimed Bet indignantly.

"There ought to be some way in which we could help. Let's try to think of something." It was the quiet Shirley who spoke, and, coming from her, the suggestion seemed possible, for Shirley was always so well balanced in all her thoughts that the girls often looked to her when they had perplexities to overcome.

"There's one thing sure, that fan didn't just up and walk out by itself. Somebody took it out!" exclaimed Kit.

"And another thing that's sure, is that it was on the desk, for Phil said he put it there," said Bet emphatically.

"Maybe he just thought he did!" sighed Joy.

"No, we've gone into all that, Chief Baldwin, Mr. Longworth, Uncle Nat and everybody. There isn't any question about it," declared Bet. "Phil put the fan on the desk, I know he did!"

"Then, who took it?" demanded Shirley. "Who would know that it was valuable? And who would want it?"

"Say Shirley, if you ever get tired of photography and want a new job, you'd better be a detective," laughed Kit. "Go on, ask some more questions and maybe we'll hit on the right solution to the mystery."

The girls laughed, but Kit added: "No fooling, girls! I know a woman in Arizona who trapped a cattle rustler all by herself, and if she did that, why can't we find the fan?"

"That's right. The Merriweather Girls should be able to find a clue. I'm sure Lady Betty would have done so in less than no time," remarked Joy.

"Perhaps she would. I wonder," said Bet sadly.



CHAPTER XV

UNDER SUSPICION

Bet Baxter insisted that Phil Gordon was not mistaken when he said he had put the ivory fan on her father's desk. But the detective shook his head and later in a talk to Chief Baldwin said:

"It looks bad for that young man, Chief. He was the last to have it. He acknowledges he's hard up, and he knew its value."

"You're barking up the wrong tree, Longworth. Everybody knows Phil Gordon and would trust him anywhere."

"All the more reason why he can act so brazen and innocent in the matter. It looks bad," Detective Longworth announced. "I've seen so many cases just like it. I'll keep my eye on that young fellow and I bet I'll get the goods on him."

The detective's suspicions travelled at a lively rate around the village and before twenty-four hours it came to the ears of the Merriweather Girls. It was Edith Whalen and her shadow, Vivian Long, who passed on the gossip to Joy Evans.

"Now what do you think of your friend Phil Gordon?" asked Edith. "I guess Bet didn't know she was associating with a thief. I saw him with that fan at the party and he was acting in a suspicious way. Lots of folks are sure he stole it."

"Who says Phil took the fan?" demanded Joy.

"Everybody's saying it! And the detective seems to think he has the clue pretty well run down and expects to arrest Phil any time now." Edith asserted with venom in her voice.

"I don't believe a word of it!" snapped Joy.

Indignation was at its highest pitch when Joy told Bet and her chums what Edith had said.

"Now we've just got to do something!" exclaimed Shirley. "We must clear Phil and that's all there is about it!"

"All right, what will we do first?" Kit jumped to her feet, ready for action.

"Who would have any interest in the fan, besides your father?" Shirley questioned Bet.

"Another antique dealer might, but no one would know he had it," Bet's eyes were bright and intense with anxiety.

"What about Peter Gruff?" cried Kit. "I never trusted that old man! And he was interested in that picture of the fan."

"But he's interested in all old things, and you heard him say that it was a common type and had no particular value," said Shirley. "No, I don't believe old Peter would want it that badly."

"I'm not so sure. I wasn't impressed with Peter Gruff, as you know. I'm going to prowl around his shop and see what I can see," laughed Kit as she grabbed her hat and coat.

"Wait a minute and we'll go down to Shirley's Shop," cried Bet. "I can't believe such a thing of old Peter but we won't leave anything undone."

And as soon as the girls reached the shop, Kit went over to Peter Gruff's store. She asked to see samplers. "We'd like to have a few for our shop," she remarked to the old man.

"No samplers!" muttered Peter. "I don't keep any. No money in samplers."

"Let me see some pewter pitchers, then." Kit was enjoying the musty old store with its strange collection of odds and ends, piled everyway about the dust-laden store.

Peter Gruff didn't have any pewter pitchers.

"Then, do you happen to have any fans?" exclaimed Kit suddenly, hoping to surprise the old man into looking guilty.

"No money in fans. I don't sell fans."

And Kit had to acknowledge that there was not the slightest change of expression in his hard blue eyes.

But as she poked her way about the place she saw a glass case and inside among bottles, books, old china and other objects, she saw several fans. She edged closer to the case and glanced through the assortment, but the fan she wanted was not there.

Of course she hardly expected to find it. If Peter had taken the fan, he would hide it away for a while at least.

"But there is something suspicious about him. Saying he didn't have any fans, when they were right there all the time," Kit confided to the chums when she returned to the shop.

"It does look suspicious!" Joy cried. "Girls, I do believe we are hot on the trail."

"I wish I could believe it!" Bet was not optimistic. "I don't believe he did it. He's heard of the theft of the fan and acts a little embarrassed. I do wish Dad were here!"

"I don't. I want to find that fan before he returns," announced Shirley with quiet decision.

"I hope we do!" said Bet.

"We're Merriweather Girls and we must find a way out of this difficulty. Lady Betty saved the Manor in her day, now we will do the same!" Kit said decidedly.

"Yes, but how?" groaned Bet. "I've thought and thought about it until my head whirls."

The more the girls puzzled over the mystery, the less light appeared. Kit made daily visits to the antique shop, hoping to find something suspicious. She made friends with Jacques, the freckled-faced little French boy who worked for Peter. He was shy at first, but Kit soon put him at ease with her kindly smile. He gazed up at her with big, dark eyes that expressed his devotion. Kit had won his heart, and the girls saw him often staring up from the basement window, hoping to get a glimpse of her.

One day when Kit was looking over the assortment in the glass case of Peter's shop, she was surprised to find that the fans had been removed. She was about to ask Jacques where they were when Old Peter Gruff returned.

"You know, Mr. Gruff, I just love your shop! I hope you don't mind me prowling around and looking at things."

She got only a curt grunt in reply, but Kit didn't mind. She went on: "That's awfully kind of you! I'm going to come often."

Kit always returned from her visits with new suspicions. Although she had found no clue, she insisted that the old man was guilty.

"Kit, I'm surprised at you!" declared the gentle Shirley. "He's a harmless old man, and I don't believe he would steal from Colonel Baxter."

"Maybe he wouldn't," Kit returned with a frown, "but I still have my doubts. I wish I had his shop to myself for half a day, then I'd make sure the fan was not hidden there.—Or I'd find it."

"Why couldn't you send him up to the Manor to fix a chair or something?" exclaimed Joy.

"He'd probably see through it. Peter Gruff is foxy," replied Bet. "Anyway I had orders long ago never to let the old man in the house when Dad was away."

"So your father didn't trust him?" cried Kit exultantly.

"Well Dad just thought it would be better not to put temptation in his way. He's crazy about old bric-a-brac, you know. And Dad didn't know what he might be up to."

Kit got her chance to have the shop to herself the next day. Old Peter Gruff left early in the morning, and Jacques was alone.

"It's luck, Kit," shouted Bet. "Come right away!"

Jacques smiled and bowed as the girls filed in. And when Kit asked him to see pewter, brass, crystal, one right after the other, the boy raced around furiously to please her.

"I want to go down stairs," said Kit with a smile.

"Mr. Gruff doesn't want people down stairs," began the boy, but before he had finished his sentence, Kit was already on the lowest step.

But the store room was so packed with things that it was impossible to move about. Two dim lights gave only enough glow to cast heavy shadows about the vault-like cellar. There was something sinister about the gloom.

"Let's get out of here while the getting's good!" whispered Joy. "I feel as if someone might jump up any minute from behind these old bureaus. I believe the place is haunted."

"No, don't go yet," pleaded Kit. "I haven't seen half enough. Who cares for ghosts, anyway? Say Jacques, what does Mr. Gruff keep in that old cabinet there?"

"Just some old china and fans and things."

"Let's see the fans," Kit demanded.

"Funny how everybody wants to see fans lately," said Jacques. "A big tall man, then a young man, then you girls."

Kit started violently. "Who was the tall man?" she asked abruptly.

"I dunno!" replied Jacques. "Phil Gordon came and asked Peter questions, and the old man got mad and said, 'Git out!'"

While he was talking Jacques had brought out the fans at Kit's request, but they were cheap and not any particular value.

"I wonder what Phil found out," mused Bet.

But whatever Phil's object was in going to the antique shop, it strengthened the suspicion against him. The detective, who had been watching him for days, was now assured that the boy was trying to dispose of the fan and on questioning Peter Gruff, he believed that his suspicions were correct.

Phil had asked the old man if he ever bought fans. Mr. Longworth reported this to Bet Baxter and the next day when she met Phil on the street, he hurried by as if anxious to avoid a talk with her.

Bet was wild with anxiety. Phil had looked at her in such a guilty way. She hurried home and, once inside the house, she burst into tears. "What's the matter with Phil Gordon, anyway? He couldn't have taken that fan. Then why does he act like a thief?"

That afternoon Bet was moping about the house when her three chums arrived. Vacation would soon be over and they were making the most of those two short weeks. But Bet was not in a mood for merry-making. Another letter had come from her father regarding the fan. It read:

"I know you have been prompt in looking after the fan as I told you to do. It is the greatest satisfaction that in matters of this sort I can trust you implicitly. I am rejoicing that the money I will receive from the fan will meet the demands of my creditors and that I'll not have to sell the Manor. The lucky little fan has saved us!"

"Girls, what am I going to do?" Bet sobbed as she finished reading the letter to them.

"I know one thing, Bet Baxter. A Merriweather Girl doesn't waste time and energy in tears! Lady Betty scorned tears!" declared Shirley.

"She looks as if she had never had a trouble in the world," sighed Bet, looking up at the picture.

"Laugh and the world laughs with you!" hummed Joy. "Cheer up, the worst is yet to come!"

"Keep quiet, Joy Evans. Those are about the silliest speeches a human being can make. I wish you'd go home—oh no, Joy, I don't mean that, I'm just worried."

"Of course you are, old dear. We all know it and want to help you, if we can. Come on out and have a snowball match."

It was a glorious day, sharp and sparkling and the snow crunched under their feet as they walked.

"This is the sort of weather when I long to go on a hike," said Shirley. "If it wasn't for this trouble we're having I'd suggest it."

"Let's go tomorrow anyway!" exclaimed Bet impulsively. "That is, unless something very important comes up. We're not accomplishing anything by hanging around the house and brooding."

"Right you are, Bet!" shouted Joy, as she threw a snowball at Kit. "If we take a brisk hike through the woods maybe the wind will blow the cobwebs out of our brains and we'll be able to think of some way to find that fan."

"The detective is on the job. I'm sure he'll find a clue," remarked Shirley quietly.

They returned to the house and found Uncle Nat disturbed over a visit from Amos Longworth. "Why that man was quizzing me up just as if he thought I stole the fan!"

"That detective is loco," laughed Kit, using a term from her beloved mountains.

"What does loco mean, Kit?" asked Joy.

"It means he's crazy! The horses get crazy in the mountains from eating a weed by that name. That's the way with Mr. Longworth; he's been eating loco weed."

"I'll say he has," Joy agreed merrily.

When the girls separated for the night they had made their plans to start the next day at eleven o'clock for a hike. That would give them plenty of time to hear anything that the detective might find out.

That evening Bet received a message from Mrs. Gordon. During the talk she told Bet that Phil was worrying himself sick over the theft of the fan.

"I know Phil wouldn't do it, Bet," his mother exclaimed.

"Of course he wouldn't. We girls have never blamed him, not even for a second. It's that silly detective! Don't worry about it. We'll find it, somehow!"

Bob Evans had gone away the day after the party and when he came back and heard the accusation against Phil, he was ready to fight.

"The very first person I met when I got off the train told me that Phil had stolen the fan belong to Colonel Baxter," he told Joy.

"Who said it?" cried Joy.

"A great friend of yours."

"No friend of mine would accuse Phil. The whole thing is ridiculous!"

"Why Edith Whalen said he was going to arrested within twenty-four hours!"

"Lots she knows about it! But if that detective had his way, he might be. I can't imagine anyone paying a man to be so stupid. We girls have told him again and again that Phil had nothing to do with it."

"Has Phil been asked up to the Manor since that happened?" asked Bob.

"No, I don't think so. He's been up several times but it has been with the detective or Chief Baldwin."

"Then you girls ought to ask him to go with you, just to show him and everybody else chat you don't believe a word of all this gossip! Phil wouldn't steal! I'd trust him with anything!"

But while Bob stormed and determined to clear his friend in some way, his efforts were not successful. He made it a point to have Phil with him wherever he went, but that did not clear the boy of suspicion.

The girls, as well as Bob, were anxious to do something for their friend, but as the fan had disappeared and there was no evidence left, they seemed to be getting nowhere. Bet and her chums were desperate.

The girls looked forward to the hike in the snow as a diversion that would rest their tired nerves and help them to see more clearly on their return.



CHAPTER XVI

HERMIT'S HUT

The next morning the girls found Bet with a tired, worried frown on her face. "Girls, I just can't go!" she said.

"Bet dear, don't give up the hike. You're brooding too much over the lost fan. Come on!" pleaded Shirley.

"Yes, Bet dear, don't back out! It will do you worlds of good!" And Kit put both arms about her tenderly. "You're making yourself sick with all this worry!"

"No. I almost feel as if I were leaving something undone!"

"But I've often noticed that when you go at something else, the thing you are worrying about completely clears up. Come on, get your hat and coat." Joy added her persuasion. "You've been worrying too much to think straight, otherwise you'd have solved the problem long ago or found a clue."

Bet finally gave in, but not quite willingly. School would begin on Monday and after that the girls would not have so much time to work on the problem. Bet wondered how she could ever put her mind on algebra and history when the mystery of the lost fan still hung over her.

Shirley had brought along her photographic outfit and said, "Please don't back out, Bet, for then none of them will go without you, and I do want to set my camera for a wild animal. I'm almost sure we'll see deer tracks. Wouldn't I be happy if I could get a picture of a deer for that wild animal picture contest?"

"And I suppose we'll be expected to stand around on one foot while you tinker with all those attachments and shutters and other crazy things," fussed Joy.

"I won't ask you to stand on one foot. You can use both and I won't charge you a cent more," replied Shirley with the slightest note of annoyance in her voice. Shirley was quiet and even-tempered and was always the peace-maker when the atmosphere between the chums became charged with strife.

"All right, Shirley. It's your affair, only don't ask me to carry one of those boxes. I'll have enough with this lunch, knowing we will soon make it lighter."

"Yes, you would fuss about everything except your lunch, Joy Evans," snapped Shirley, now thoroughly cross. "Come on, girls, let's go!" and Shirley hastened out the door in advance of others.

"Let her go, Bet. She'll cool off in the frosty air," said Joy.

"I think everybody is getting nervous and I'm sure it's my fault, I've been so irritable to everyone," replied Bet.

But as they stepped outside the door their joyous spirits revived and they started away with a song. Auntie Gibbs watched them as they tramped up over the hill, and when they disappeared, she turned back to her work.

"She's a spoiled child, that Bet! Girls didn't act like that when I was young! They didn't go gallivanting around: they stayed home and did their knitting!" the old lady scolded, but as she lacked an audience her temper soon cooled and she went about her work thinking only of her one great interest in life, Colonel Baxter and his daughter, Bet.

"Bless the child, she's the most provoking thing I've ever seen, but she's so kind to me, too. The way she bathed my head yesterday when it ached, was like a grown woman. The Colonel has a right to be proud of her."

And these conflicting emotions were enough make the old lady's head ache a second time.

While she puttered about the kitchen, planning a special cake to surprise Bet and her chums when they would return, the girls were headed toward Cruger Lake.

"We should have brought skiis!" called Joy. "Why didn't we think of it?"

"Are we on a hike or not?" Bet stopped short in the path and confronted Joy. "This is a hike, and a hike means walking."

"It suits me all right," announced Kit suddenly, "but I can't help wishing I had Powder along. He'd enjoy making this crusty snow fly."

"Well, there's a stone wall over there, Kit. You might pretend," laughed Bet, but seeing a shadow pass over her friend's face, she immediately added: "I'm sorry dear, I promised never to tease you about that."

"Don't Bet, some things just touch the heart too close to joke about! And you'll never understand that until you love a horse the way I do Powder."

"I think I do understand, Kit. I'm sure I'd be just as sentimental over Smiley Jim. Poor old fellow! I've neglected him lately. Today I locked him in the basement, and he begged so to come along!"

"Why didn't you bring him?" asked Kit.

"Auntie Gibbs wanted him to stay there. She's getting a little nervous since the loss of the fan and thinks the dog will protect her."

Shirley was in the lead, her eyes on the ground, watching eagerly for signs of animal footprints.

"Here's a deer track!" called Bet with a laugh and Shirley ran back at top speed.

"Well, maybe it's only a rabbit's," teased Bet.

"And I thought you were my friend, Bet Baxter!" Shirley answered, as she took the lead once more.

It was stinging cold. Every few minutes the girls had to stop and clap their hands together and stamp their feet to restore circulation. They pulled their wool caps well down over their ears and faced the sharp wind. They had crossed the main highway and struck into the woods on the other side, hoping to reach Cruger Lake by lunch time.

They walked and walked till long after the time set for lunch, but saw no sign of the lake.

"Let's build our fire in the woods, girls, and we'll go on to the lake afterwards. I didn't know it was so far." Bet slung her pack to the ground, and the others followed her lead.

"What's for lunch?" asked Joy Evans. "I'm starved!"

Outdoor cooking was a hobby with the girls and they soon had a fire started. And when a bed of coals was ready, a big steak with onions sizzled merrily.

Everybody was hungry from the long walk, and steak and sandwiches disappeared before the onslaught of four ravenous girls.

"And here's the dessert!" Bet held up a handful of dough.

"I wouldn't call that much of a dessert," Joy shrugged with disgust.

"Wait and see! You take a little piece of it and pull it out like this," and Bet stretched the dough into a long, narrow ribbon. "Now please hand me those sticks I was whittling!" After rubbing the end of the twigs in flour, Bet wound the ribbon around the end in a spiral.

"And now what?" asked Kit, as Bet passed each of them a stick with the twisted dough on the point.

"Put them over the coals but be careful not to burn them," she cautioned.

The girls kept the sticks turning so that the dough would cook evenly. Suddenly Bet held hers up; "I do believe mine is done, and this is the way you find out. If it slips off without sticking then it is done." Bet gave the twist a little turn and it came off.

"Now that's a bread twist!" she smiled with satisfaction, as the girls all took theirs off successfully. "Here, fill them up with jelly, and then tell me what you think of them."

"No words can describe this!" replied Joy. "I could just live on bread twists."

"And now let's be on our way!" Bet shouldered her pack. "It can't be far to the lake now."

After an hour's walk they realized that something was wrong, they should have been at the lake long ago.

"I know what we must have done," exclaimed Bet impatiently. "We took the wrong trail away back by the road. Here's Hermit's Hut in front of us."

"Aw, what a nuisance. I did want to go to the lake!" Joy stopped short. "Can't we turn back and go yet?"

"No, it's too late today. It would be dark before we'd get there," said Shirley.

"What's Hermit's Hut? That sounds interesting. Makes me think of the hermit's caves in Arizona," cried Kit, a joyous note in her voice.

"It's just an old hut, that's all. They say a queer old man stayed there at one time and lived on just what he could shoot or trap in the woods, and when he died and his body was found, there was a bag of gold coins hidden in the wall of the hut. I don't know whether the story is true or not, but the closet in the wall is there and might have held treasure," explained Bet.

"Some say he starved to death with all that money right there!" said Joy contemptuously. "Wasn't he crazy?"

"There's no sign of treasure there now," declared Bet. "They have ripped up the floors and the walls and dug all around the hut to see if he didn't bury some money as well."

"That's not likely!" Kit took Bet's arm. "Come on up there, I want to see the hut."

"There isn't much to see," returned her chum, as they climbed the small hill to the old cabin.

The wind was getting stronger and when the girls reached the Hermit's Hut, a tumble-down shack half hidden in the brush, they gladly took shelter there from the wind.

"Now bring on your treasure closet," exclaimed Kit. "Where's your show?"

Bet pointed to the wall. "That's funny," she exclaimed, "that closet used to be right there. Someone has nailed it up." And Bet tapped the wall with her hard little knuckles.

"It sounds hollow! Maybe some other hermit has fastened it up again," suggested the quiet Shirley.

"Hidden treasure!" exclaimed Joy.

"You can have all the treasure you find," laughed Shirley. "I'm off to find deer tracks."

"Usually I'm not a curious person," began Kit.

"You don't say so! Do tell us more about yourself!" Joy was always teasing and the girls were used to her ways. Kit leaned over the door sill, grabbed a handful of snow, aimed it at Joy, then continued her sentence:

"This interests me, and I'm going to investigate. Perhaps some one has hidden away another fortune in the wall."

"I think this hermit must have had a repair-man's mania, the way this board is nailed on! Get your hatchet Kit, and we'll investigate." Bet held out her hand toward the pack.

No one paid any attention to Shirley, who had found a treasure of her own, some deer tracks in the snow outside the hut. "Here's where I'll put my camera," she said to herself. "Oh I do hope I get a good picture!"

"She's raving again, girls, don't cross her!" called Joy from the doorway.

"I'm not listening!" said Shirley, with a toss of her head. She placed the camera, cleverly concealed it with evergreen boughs, and put into position the device that set off the flash powder and released the shutter. A wire extended out into the snow at some distance so that the animal would be almost sure to come in contact with it.

"There! That's done!" announced Shirley. "Now, Mr. Deer, you can come just as soon as you want to. I'm ready!"

Bet was using all her strength to pry off the board from the wall.

"Here, give it to me, Bet! I'm a wild and woolly westerner and big nails are nothing in my life."

With a screeching, protesting sound the huge nails were pulled out and the board came loose. The girls peered into the opening but did not see anything at first.

"Nothing there!" said Kit with disgust, as she turned away.

"There's something white in here!" exclaimed Bet as she slipped her hand into the closet. She grasped the object in a tight grip and brought it forth.

"Oh look! We've found hidden treasure!" shouted Joy, laughing. "Let's see it.—No, it's just a dusty cloth tied around a stick."

But Bet was trembling with excitement. She exclaimed: "Girls, it's the fan! The queen's fan!" She unwrapped the cloth and showed the precious object, then burst into tears.

But the girls cried out excitedly: "Found! What wonderful luck!"

"How did it get here?"

"This must be a thieve's [Transcriber's note: thief's?] hiding place! Oh, maybe the thief is around here!"

"What shall we do!"

"Do? I'll say grab it and get out of this place as soon as we can.—And keep running until we reach the bus line. Don't wait a minute, girls! I'll just lay suspicion by nailing this board back again!" And Kit gave some good swinging strokes with the hatchet.

The girls ran in terror, for they expected the thief to be in pursuit. They glanced back anxiously with little squeals. But Bet hugged the fan to her breast and did not speak.

The four girls waited for the bus at the deserted corner of the woods. It was already dusk. Bet looked anxiously about, fearing to hear a long whistle, a signal of the thieves. So many things had happened recently the girls did not feel safe. They might be held up, even yet. It seemed hours before they saw the bus.

Shirley hailed it and the girls climbed on trying compose themselves and not look self-conscious.

Suddenly Shirley jumped to her feet. "My camera! I shouldn't have left it there! I never want to see that place again!"

"Ssh! Don't talk so loud, Shirley!" Bet whispered. "And don't worry. We'll ask Bob and Phil to come up with us and get it. We'll tell them to bring a shot gun! And who knows, maybe in the meantime you'll get your picture of a deer."

The bus had never seemed to go so slowly. It stopped at every street corner, or so it appeared to Bet Baxter. At the corner where they alighted, Smiley Jim came bounding over the hard snow, barking his welcome. "Smiley Jim, I'm glad you're here, I've never been so happy to see you, in all my life!" Bet exclaimed.

As if the dog knew that Bet needed him, he walked by her side, and growled as he always did when strangers came to the Manor.

"I believe he knows!" said Bet softly as she patted the dog's head.

But when she stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later, she fell into Auntie Gibbs' arms and sobbed hysterically.

"Now, what's the matter child? Have you had more bad luck? Your father can't get home too soon to suit me!"

At last Bet got her breath:

"Auntie Gibbs! Uncle Nat! We've found the fan!"



CHAPTER XVII

ON GUARD

Bet was still clutching the precious fan in a tight grip that had not relaxed for a second since she found it in the Hermit's Hut.

"I just knew you'd find it, Bet," said Auntie Gibbs. "I told you so over and over again!"

Even Bet, whose nerves were at the snapping point, had to smile at the old lady who was always in the right and sure to exclaim: "Didn't I tell you so!"

"Now let's have a look at that queen's fan. I never rightly noticed it, before it was stolen." The old man held out his hand.

"Here it is, Uncle Nat," said Bet proudly, as she unwrapped the treasure from the dusty handkerchief. Then she gave a little gasp which was immediately smothered in a cough, as she stuffed the handkerchief into her sweater pocket.

"What's the matter now, Bet?" Kit cried excitedly.

"Nothing at all. Must have taken a cold. My throat seems raw." Bet took the fan, opened it and held it out to Uncle Nat.

"Well, well, well!" exclaimed the old man. "So that's the queen's fan! Are you quite sure it's the one, Bet? Doesn't seem fancy enough to be worth all that money."

"All I can say is that it ain't much to look at," sputtered Auntie Gibbs. "It's a nice enough fan, but I wouldn't give a dollar for it. If I were a queen I'd want one with ostrich plumes and lots of gold on it."

"Queens are funny like that!" Uncle Nat shook his head. "But I can't understand how anyone would want it at a price like that. I wonder if Colonel Baxter isn't joking with you about it?"

"You know Daddy wouldn't do a thing like that. His letters have been so full of joy at the prospect of a sale."

"And, Bet dear, isn't it good that we found it before he got back? It has saved him a lot of worry. I do think we are the luckiest girls in the world," cried Shirley Williams.

"The lucky Merriweather Girls! We're living up to the ideals of our club, and Lady Betty!" Joy kissed the tips of her fingers toward the portrait, then whirled about on her toes.

Bet rushed up to her room and taking her father's picture from her desk, whispered, "Oh Daddy, you can trust me!" She looked at it a long time, then kissed it as she replaced it on the desk.

"So far, so good!" exclaimed Kit as she joined Bet. "We've found the fan but we haven't found the thief, and until that is done we won't be able to clear the suspicion against Phil. Everybody in town is blaming him." Kit's voice showed her indignation.

"Let's phone him! He'll sleep better tonight if he knows the fan has been found," suggested Joy as she and Shirley came into the room.

"Girls, do me a favor, don't tell anyone tonight. If it gets around town that we have the fan, the thief may come and try to get it again. Until it is in the safety deposit box at the bank, I've not kept faith with Dad. And tomorrow is Sunday. I have to guard the fan for two nights instead of one."

"That's true. Someone might try to steal it again. Wish we were staying all night with you, Bet," said Kit.

"Please do, girls. I don't want to be left alone, I'll phone and ask!" and Bet ran to the telephone.

Bet needed their presence to keep her from brooding over something that she could not talk about with them, for the handkerchief that had been wrapped around the fan, bore the initials P.S.G. in one corner. She recognized it as one of Phil's handkerchiefs. There was no doubt about it.

Now that the fan was in her possession she was so relieved that she did not care to lay the blame on him, but with the proof in her pocket, she felt weighed down as if she were the guilty one.

"'How could Phil do such a thing!" she thought. "No wonder he didn't stop to talk to me! I should think he would slink by without hardly speaking!" Bet's indignation was at fever heat. At this moment she wished he were there to make him face the evidence she had against him.

The three girls had no difficulty in getting permission to stay with Bet. Mrs. Stacey laughingly suggested that Kit be adopted by the Baxters and then she would never have to come home.

"Now girls, we will take turns in guarding the fan. Two at a time through the night," said Bet. "But if you think I'm going to let the fan out of my possession, you're mistaken. Right now, I'm going to fasten it around my neck! And what's more, I'm going to sleep with it on."

"But a thief may come and carry you away, fan and all!" exclaimed Joy.

"Not if we are guarding her!" Shirley assured them. "Where will we sleep?"

"Shirley and Joy must have the room across the hall, and Kit will sleep with me. Two of us must always be together. I have the feeling if one of you girls had been with me the other night, the fan might not have been stolen at all."

"Let me have the first watch, then," said Shirley. "I'm such a night owl anyway, that I won't mind staying awake. Joy and I can watch until two o'clock, then we'll waken you."

The girls caught the thrill of the night watch and almost hoped a thief might come so they could capture him.

"Someone may try to kidnap Bet, if he thinks she has the fan on her," suggested Kit.

"If he does, Bet, he'll have to kidnap all four girls, for we'll stand by you!" Joy put her arms protectingly around Bet.

"I'd love to catch the thief, lock him up in a closet, send for Chief Baldwin and have him arrested. That would end the mystery of the queen's fan."

"And that's what I call romantic bunkum," laughed Auntie Gibbs. "You'll all go to bed tonight and get your rest! Uncle Nat will hide the fan so no one will get it."

At which there was a loud protest from all the girls. They had no intention of being cheated out of any of the thrilling romance of the fan.

Bet was tucked into bed with all the tenderness that one bestows on a small child and was made to promise, hand on heart, that she would not step outside her room for any reason whatever, unless one of the girls was with her.

Shirley had no difficulty in keeping awake until two o'clock but she did have trouble in keeping Joy's eyes open.

"I'd let you sleep, honey, only I gave Bet my solemn promise that we'd both stay awake."

"It's all right, Shirley. Just give me a dig if I nod. I won't mind. We've got to help Bet!" Joy yawned and stretched.

But it did seem a long time to Joy before Shirley said, "Time's up!" and together they crossed the hall to waken Bet and Kit. They had been sitting just inside the door of their room where they could watch up and down the hall. Nothing disturbing had happened.

"Time to get up? Why it just seems as if we'd been asleep a second!" laughed Kit.

"That's your bad luck, then," exclaimed Joy, "for my watch says it's after two."

Bet and Kit jumped out of bed, and Bet put her hand on the fan and patted it.

"It's still safe, girls! I don't think we'll be disturbed tonight."

"Listen to her, Shirley!" yawned Joy. "She's going to say that we can all go to sleep now that it's her turn to guard the fan."

"Indeed I'm not! I have no intention of leaving the fan unguarded. You forget that I'm on my honor to get this into the safety box on Monday!"

"Next watch is from half past two to half past six! Run along and get to sleep!" ordered Kit. "We'll guard the treasure with our lives."

Shirley and Joy made a dash for their own room, but gave a shriek as they reached the door. A figure clad in ghostly white was gliding down the long hallway.

Bet leaped into action at once. "Here girls, stand by me! Now remember, if they kidnap me, they will have to take all four."

They peered cautiously into the hall and Bet snapped on the light, and let out a scream of laughter.

"It's just Auntie Gibbs! I forgot that she takes her daily exercise at this hour. She's always prowling around to see if the doors and windows are locked."

"What are you children doing?" demanded Auntie Gibbs. "Get into bed this minute or you'll get your death! I'll tell Colonel Baxter when he comes home."

This was the daily threat that the old woman made to Bet, who, not having any fear of her father, smiled serenely. All went to their rooms. Shirley and Joy cuddled down under the covers and were soon asleep. And when Auntie Gibbs was in her own room, Kit and Bet began their watch.

At dawn they awakened Shirley and Joy.

"Bet Baxter, you're cheating!" came Joy's sleepy voice from the blankets.

"I just this minute closed my eyes," exclaimed Shirley.

"Waking us up the minute we fell asleep! A trick like that isn't funny. You just think it is!" pouted Joy.

The three girls commenced to giggle and soon Joy was wide awake and enjoying the joke at her expense.

Bet and Kit slept until breakfast time.

"What are we going to do today?" asked Joy as they went down to the dining room. "Let's think up something specially nice, for school begins on Monday. This two weeks' vacation just flew by!"

"Whatever it is that we plan, it will have to be something we can do right here at home. I do not intend to go out of the house today."

"That's all right. We've had lots of good times here in the Manor. Maybe we can manage to have one more," Shirley laughed happily.

"You know what I'd like to do, Bet?" said Joy, clapping her hands. "I'd just love to call Bob and Phil. They'll be so glad that the fan is found."

For a moment Bet was about to object, then fearing to arouse the suspicion of the girls toward Phil she agreed.

What would Phil do when he learned that the fan had been recovered? Would he try to pass it off and appear innocent in the matter? Just how could he face the Merriweather Girls, knowing what they stood for: honor, loyalty and friendship?

But Bet kept these thoughts to herself. Her chums must not know anything about it. She would be loyal to that extent.

Joy called up her brother and then impulsively said, "Just a minute, Bob! Bet wants to tell you the news!"

"Hello, Bet," came Bob's voice over the phone.

And Bet tried to make herself speak naturally, "We found the fan, Bob! Isn't it great!"

"By Jimminy! Hurrah for the Merriweather Girls! Where was it? Who took it?"

"We'll give you the whole story later. It's too long to telephone."

"It sounds mysterious, I can hardly wait!"

"Tell Phil, will you, Bob? But don't mention to anyone else just at present. I'll explain when I see you!"

Within an hour the girls heard the familiar tooting of an auto horn in the yard and a loud shout that they recognized as Bob's, followed by Phil's more subdued call.

"Those dear boys!" exclaimed Kit. "You know girls, they haven't been around much lately and I've been ever and ever so lonesome. I—I like boys!"

"You didn't have to tell us that, Kit Patten. Just as if we couldn't see that you're boy crazy!"

"I am not, Joy Evans! I like boys, but I'm not silly over them. I like them the way I do my kid brother at home and the way I like Powder, my pony."

"Oh ho, ho! Wait until I tell Bob and Phil. Kit likes them the same as she does Powder, her pony!"

"Oh Joy, please keep still or they'll hear!" Kit shook the laughing girl but it was too good a joke to keep. As soon as Bet had opened the door, Joy shouted it as a greeting.

"Come on in, boys! Kit says you're most as nice as her pony. Prance right up and get your lump of sugar and your measure of oats!" teased Joy.

Bob and Phil were so relieved that the fan had been found they entered into the fun. Linking arms they went through a pantomime of fiery steeds being held in check with a tight rein.

Bet laughed with the others, but her heart was heavy over Phil's insincerity. Auntie Gibbs, who just naturally liked boys better than girls, was doubled over with laughter at their antics. She buzzed around them, took their hats and coats and hung them up.

"Look at that," pouted Joy. "Why don't you wait on us hand and foot? Aren't we as good as the boys?"

"That's as may be! But girls ought to wait on themselves. That's what!"

"You're perfectly right, Auntie Gibbs!" nodded Bob.

"I'd like to know why? Maybe you think we don't want some attention now and then, even if we are girls," said Kit.

"Go on with your nonsense! I know you're only trying to make fun of me. The boys wouldn't do that!"

"Indeed we wouldn't, Auntie Gibbs! You are perfectly right," assented Phil, with a triumphant smile at Kit.

Bet was silent. She watched Phil with a heavy heart. How could he pretend innocence like that?

Just then the jingle of the telephone brought the nonsense to an end. Bet answered it.

"Who? What? Oh Daddy! Daddy! Are you so near, really? —Company? Of course, the girls are here and Bob and Phil. —Oh thank you, Daddy, you're a dear. Goodbye!"

Bet left the phone and sank into the depths of a roomy chair. "Dad will be here in a few hours. He telephoned from Albany. —Oh, how glad I am that we found the queen's fan!"



CHAPTER XVIII

COLONEL BAXTER RETURNS

"Come on girls, let's go right away. Bet will want her father to herself and he won't want a lot of hoodlums around!" exclaimed Bob.

"We like that, Bob Evans! In the first place we are all friends of Colonel Baxter and chums of his daughter, Bet. Therefore we are not hoodlums!" exclaimed Kit Patten.

"And Dad says to keep you here to celebrate his return. The boys too. He's bringing a business friend, but that need not bother us."

After Bet's announcement, Auntie Gibbs flew to the kitchen and was already at work with mixing bowl and measuring cups. She was quite in her element at the prospect of company, and she took command like a general. Even the boys were put to work. One of the lights in the chandelier was not working, and Bob and Phil took off their coats, mounted a ladder and repaired the damage.

The girls were sent up stairs, to dust and air and arrange the guest chamber.

Uncle Nat was lying down with a headache. "Isn't he the most provoking man," declared the old lady. "I said this morning that like as not I'd need him to-day when he's laid up."

"Oh let him rest, Auntie Gibbs," said Bob. "Phil and I will take his place. We'll be sort of Uncle Nat twins!"

And the old lady commanded them energetically. "Here Phil, you take these bones to Smiley Jim and let him out! That poor dog has been neglected badly. The girls have been so busy lately!"

"Yes, busy and worried like the rest of us. Isn't it great that they found the fan? It means a lot to me, for I had it last. And then Amos Longworth has been dogging my steps like a stage detective. I couldn't move without being watched."

"Yes, and that man came here and questioned Uncle Nat and me. Showed he even suspicioned us! What do you know about that?" exclaimed Auntie Gibbs indignantly.

"I'm wondering where he is to-day! We're apt to see him peering in one of the windows," laughed Phil.

"We haven't notified Chief Baldwin. Bet wants to get the fan into her father's hands before anyone else knows about it, and I don't blame her."

Long before train time the house was in perfect order, the table gleamed with crystal and silver. Everything of the best was displayed to welcome home the "Lord of the Manor" as Bet called him.

"I'm going to meet your Dad, Bet!" announced Bob. "Want to come along?"

"I'd like to go but I can't. I'll meet him here." In an aside to Kit she added: "There might be an accident or a hold-up. Anything is apt to happen! I feel fairly safe when I'm here in the house with you girls around me."

So while Phil finished up some odd jobs for Uncle Nat, and the girls fluttered here and there at Auntie Gibbs' command Colonel Baxter arrived.

Bet noticed the difference in her father's face at once. The look of strain was gone. And his eyes were not sad or preoccupied as they had been for the past months. The offer for the fan must have relieved him from worry.

With a joyous cry, Bet was in his arms. "Oh Daddy, I'm so glad you're home!" She was trembling with excitement.

"Why, what's the matter here? This is no way to greet your father—with big tears in your eyes!"

Colonel Baxter shook hands ceremoniously with Auntie Gibbs, introduced the stranger, Mr. Provost, the curator of an art museum in the west, and had a cheery word for each of the young people. The Colonel seemed happy that Bet's friends were there to receive him, and his old carefree manner made the girls rejoice that they did not have to cause him worry.

Before dinner he made a trip to Uncle Nat's room to shake the old man's hand.

"Auntie Gibbs, I do believe you are trying to spoil me," declared the Colonel as he partook of all the delicacies that she had provided for his benefit.

"It can't be done again, Colonel, I spoiled you long ago," she answered.

After dinner was over and the men started toward the drawing room, Bet said, "Will you girls help Auntie Gibbs? I must give the fan to Dad at once."

The Bet who presented herself to her father had scarlet cheeks and her hands were trembling with nervous strain.

"Daddy, may I see you alone for a few minutes? It's a matter of great importance." The girl's manner was so formal and grown-up that Colonel Baxter had to smile as he turned to his guest.

"Will you pardon me, Provost, for a few minutes?"

Father and daughter slipped into a small room adjoining and after Bet had closed the door she said:

"Daddy, I have to make a confession."

"What have you done now, broken a window?"

"No, no, Daddy, be serious. I've had an awful time." She unfastened something from her neck and to her father's surprise put the fan in his hand.

"Why Bet, I told you to put the fan away."

"Listen Dad. When your message came the fan was gone! Isn't that terrible? It was stolen and we got it back only yesterday. It was after the bank closed. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be disobedient."

"Who stole it?"

"No one knows yet."

Suddenly the Colonel jumped to his feet. "Well, one bit of good luck has come out of this. After a while I'll hear the whole story. Now I must see Provost. You're a brave little girl."

After the Colonel had talked with his guest for a moment Bet heard the man saying: "That's what I call luck, Colonel Baxter! I can take the fan with me, give you the check right now, and get home in time to meet that important business appointment."

A brief inspection was enough for the expert. He made out a check, put the fan carefully in his bag and asked: "When does that train leave here for Chicago?"

"In fifteen minutes exactly."

"Can we make it?"

"Bob, can you get us to the station in fifteen minutes to catch the express?"

"Certainly, let's go!" said Bob.

Bet accompanied them to the station. She sat between her father and Mr. Provost and answered their questions when she could.

"I won't feel safe until you are on the train, Mr. Provost, and even then I won't be sure that something dreadful won't happen."

"But who do you suppose stole it? It's not likely that anyone will bother me."

Bet sighed with relief as the train pulled out of the station. "Oh, I do hope he gets to the museum safely!" she whispered as she snuggled close to her father.

At Bob's suggestion, Colonel Baxter notified Chief Baldwin that the fan had been found.

"Do you know who stole it?" he asked.

"No. I have only been home a few hours, and I have had no way of finding out."

"Well, Longworth and I have a certain party in mind. Maybe we'll get a confession out of him."

"We'll discuss that later," replied the Colonel.

Making an appointment for an interview the next morning, Colonel Baxter bade goodbye to the Chief.

"Oh Daddy, what a relief it is to have you around to attend to things!" cried Bet when they were alone.

The party broke up very soon after they reached the Manor. The girls were tired from the excitement of the last week and ready to go to sleep. And when the door closed after his young guests, Colonel Baxter said, "Now Bet you look as if you'd had a hard week. Get into bed and call when you're ready and I'll sit with you a while."

It was good to have her father here, to feel his hand clasping hers with a firm grip that assured her of protection and love. She had hardly said good-night when her hand relaxed and sleep overcame her tired eyelids.

Bet was having her first untroubled sleep for over a week, and her pale face showed the effects of the strain. Her father mused: "It's been a big problem for my little girl, but she handled it well, even to guarding the fan last night! She's a great girl! I'm glad she's mine!"

Colonel Baxter slept in the guest room instead of going to his own chamber. He had promised Bet to stay near her. She waked him early the next morning.

"I'm going to school after all, Dad! I've had a good night's rest and feel fine," she announced.

"That sounds like my Bet!"

"And Dad, I forgot to tell you. On Saturday just before we found the fan in Hermit's Hut, Shirley set her camera for a wild animal picture. You see we planned on going back there Sunday and getting it. It's still there."

"I'll get it today. I have an idea that Chief Baldwin and I will take a trip out there and look over the ground. I'll get the camera."

Bet spoke earnestly: "Don't try to find out who stole the fan, Daddy! Let the matter drop."

"Why?"

"Daddy, it might be someone we liked and trusted and if it was, we'd—we'd—well life wouldn't be so good after that. Let's drop it! Say yes!"

Bet's father straightened up in bed and took the face of his daughter between his two hands.

"I see that you are still troubled. There is someone you fear has been false. Is that it? Some friend?"

"Yes, Dad."

"But that's all the more reason why we should investigate and make sure about it."

"Don't, Dad, please. I can't bear it."

"Bet, dear, can you trust your father? I've never failed you, have I?"

"No, no, never!"

"Then listen to me. Rid yourself of all your suspicions, if that's what they are, and I'll try to untangle things. Do you think if I take Chief Baldwin out to the hut that he might see something that would pin the blame on your friend?"

"No, Daddy, I don't think so. The truth is, I have the evidence with me."

"Might it not be well to trust an older head, Bet?"

"Yes. But somehow I feel that it is not being loyal." Bet left the room and returned with the handkerchief. "I found the fan wrapped in Phil's handkerchief. See his initials, P.S.G."

"Phil! And he was the last one to have the fan? It does look bad for the boy. —I must have a talk with him."

"No, no! Phil couldn't have done it. He just couldn't!" repeated Bet. Sobs shook her body. "There's the evidence but still I can't believe it."

"Where is my little Lady Betty Merriweather, I'd like to know?"

"Of course she didn't cry over her troubles. She just kept a stiff upper lip and went on, but somehow it does me worlds of good to cry, now that you are at home."

"Now Bet, I'll tell you what I'm going to do. If we find out that this terrible suspicion is correct, I'll have a serious talk with Phil. In the meantime I am going to have Chief Baldwin go over the ground with me. We'll visit the hut together. Now just where is Shirley's camera?"

"It's at the right of the hut. You'll see it without any trouble. Try to bring it without disturbing it for Shirley does want a picture for that contest this spring. —And Dad, could you and Chief Baldwin go alone? Don't take that detective!"

"Why?"

"He'd find out something against Phil, I'm sure he would. Then he'd want to put him in jail. He didn't try to shadow anyone else. That boy has had a terrible time."

The Colonel laughed at the inconsistency of his small daughter but remarked: "Be loyal to your friend. That's right. But will you give me a free hand to find the thief? I think you'll be glad you trusted me. And I'll tell you right now, I don't believe a boy who looked me straight in the eye as he did when we met, ever stole a penny from anyone."

"Thanks, Dad, you're so comforting. I'm proud of you. You will make everything come out all right."

The breakfast bell rang and Bet and her father had to hurry, for Auntie Gibbs didn't like to have them late to a meal.

"We're coming Auntie Gibbs," cried the girl. And a few minutes later the two best chums in the world, danced down the long stairway to the breakfast room, arm in arm, like carefree children.



CHAPTER XIX

THE REWARD

Colonel Baxter was not very sure that they would ever be able to prove who stole the fan. He confided that much to Bet at lunch time, when he returned from Hermit's Hut.

The girl looked relieved. "I almost wish you wouldn't. Let's drop it. Did you get Shirley's camera, Dad? Oh I do hope she got a wild animal picture!"

"Tell Shirley that the trap was sprung, and the flash powder had gone off, and it is almost certain to have been a deer. Ask her to come to the shop right after school and I'll bring the camera down."

"Won't she be happy!" Bet squealed with delight.

The school room clock had never ticked off its minutes so slowly as it did that afternoon; each minute seemed like an hour to the excited girls whose minds were centered on Shirley's luck. Deer got all mixed up with their history lessons and Miss Elder cast reproving glances more than once at the Merriweather Girls who were finding it so hard to settle to work.

In her heart she didn't blame them. Vacation was such a glorious time for fun and she knew the girls' capacity for getting the most joy out of everything in life.

She thought: "The darlings! And I have to be the one to order them back to their books!"

At five minutes to three, Bet bent her head over her book, declaring that she would not look at the clock again until it was three. Then, when she was certain that the minute hand must be pointing to twelve, she looked up and gave a gasp. Only one minute had gone by! How the time dragged!

But at last the welcome sound of dismissal bell did come and the girls were free. They ran all the way to the shop.

"It's a good thing I carry my key with me, or we would have lost about ten minutes," said Shirley and she unlocked the door and let the girls in.

Shirley made a dive toward the dark room.

"What are you going to do now?" asked Joy.

"I'll get everything ready in here to develop the plate; just as soon as Colonel Baxter comes."

At exactly quarter past three Bet's father arrived, bearing Shirley's camera as if it were the queen's fan itself.

"Here's your deer, Shirley. Put him in the bath and let's have a look at him. I'm first!"

"You've earned that right," Shirley answered.

"All right! No one must come near until I call." He and Shirley disappeared behind the curtained doorway and silence settled over the group as Shirley developed the negative.

After much waiting and eager straining of ears, the girls caught a startled cry from Shirley. They crowded into the dark room, as Shirley said impatiently:

"Oh Colonel Baxter, it isn't a deer at all! Isn't that mean? Look here! Oh, I won't go on with it, I'll smash the old thing!" and Shirley made as if to throw the plate into the discard.

Colonel Baxter caught her arm in time to save it. "Hold on there, Shirley. That plate may be worth more to you than the prize contest would bring. Finish developing it."

"What is it?" cried Bet. "Do let us see!" and the three girls crowded closer.

"What's all the excitement about? What are the Merriweather Girls doing now?" asked Bob Evans as he and Phil Gordon came into Shirley's Shop and followed the girls to the dark room.

"Ssh! Bob! We think Shirley's got a picture of a deer or some other wild animal. Keep quiet."

"Yes, keep quiet Phil!" laughed Bob. "The wild animal might get excited and run."

Everything in the dark room was quiet as Shirley developed the plate. Colonel Baxter and the girls pressed closer together to let the boys crowd in.

"Why Dad, it isn't a deer at all, it's a man!" exclaimed Bet as she stood looking over Shirley's shoulder.

"I suspected as much, but we want to know who the man is."

"Oh Dad...." Bet left the sentence unfinished. She edged close to her father and held his hand. Her own felt cold and clammy while her face burned. She did not dare to turn toward Phil, whose face showed dimly in the red glow.

"I'm so disappointed!" exclaimed Shirley. "I could just weep!"

"Who is it?" asked Phil.

The Colonel answered quietly: "If I am not mistaken, it's the man who stole the fan."

"Then let me nearer. I think I have first right, don't you, Colonel?"

"You have, Phil!" Colonel Baxter made room for the boy to pass.

"Why I see!" cried Shirley. "It's somebody sneaking into Hermit's Hut."

"Who is it? Tell me Shirley!" exclaimed Kit.

"It—it looks like old Peter Gruff! It is! No mistake!"

"There, didn't I tell you all along there was something suspicious about that old man!" Kit was jubilant. "He's slinking back to find the fan."

"Well that clears you, Phil. Not even Edith Whalen can cast slurring remarks at you now," said Bob.

"I'm glad to be free of this suspicion, but I'm sorry for that old rascal, too."

"I wouldn't waste any sympathy on him," remarked Joy Evans vindictively. "He let people believe you had done it and helped along the suspicion by saying that you had tried to sell him a fan. I hope he goes to jail!"

Colonel Baxter spoke: "Now come on out and let Shirley finish it up. Could you get a good print by this evening? The plate would do, but we'd like to have a clear print to show the old fellow. I'll go down and see Chief Baldwin now."

"I'll have it ready at eight o'clock!" answered Shirley from the dark room.

It was in the back room of Shirley's Shop where Chief Baldwin brought old Peter Gruff, confronted him with the picture and accused him of stealing the fan.

"I steal Colonel Baxter's fan!" he exclaimed violently. "Why should I take the fan when I have enough of my own?"

"That is the question I am asking you. Now, Peter, confess and get it over with. If you do not tell us everything, I'll send this picture to the New York police and get your record. Maybe there is another picture of you in the Rogues Gallery!"

The old man started excitedly. "No, no, don't do that!" he cried. Then feeling that he had given himself away, added, "I don't like policemen; they ask too many questions. I have done nothing. I'm an old man and don't want to be disturbed."

"All right, Peter, out with the story! If you say you stole the fan, we'll go easy with you. —That is, if you confess. The girls have asked me not to be too hard on you."

"Those girls!" exclaimed Peter Gruff, throwing his hands up in dismay. "They come and they come and they look into every corner of the shop! They are a nuisance!"

The Chief laughed heartily. "All right Peter, now why did you take the fan?"

"I wouldn't steal the fan," began Peter Gruff, but Chief Baldwin rose.

"All right, we'll get the city police on the job and it will likely mean a long term in prison for you."

At the word "prison," Peter Gruff jumped to his feet. "No, no, Chief, not that! I'll tell." And with the helpful questioning of the Chief, the old man blurted out his story. It began with the night of the party. He had looked for the fan in the attic. It was his footprints in the dust and the snow.

"How could that be?" laughed Chief Baldwin, looking at the tiny foot of the old man. "Those feet were big."

Peter hesitated a moment then continued: "I put on big shoes so they'd think a big man did it."

He owned that he had slipped back into the house and had been seen by some of the young people. Finally he had hidden away in a closet and waited until the party was over. When he thought everyone was asleep he had crept into Colonel Baxter's study and stolen the fan, and later he had hidden it in Hermit's Hut.

"But why did you hide it away out there?" asked the Chief.

"I didn't think anybody would go out there in the winter. Nobody ever does. But those girls! They go everywhere! I thought I would leave the fan there until people had forgotten it. It was a good hiding place."

"But as usual when a man does something wrong, he gets found out! The girls were too smart for you!" answered the Chief. "Why did you want the fan? Tell me that."

"I had a big offer from a dealer in Paris. That dealer told me it was owned by someone in Lynnwood, he didn't know who. But I knew that Colonel Baxter would be the only person who could have it. So I got it."

"If I had my way," said Chief Baldwin sternly, "I'd put you in jail and keep you there a long time. But Colonel Baxter is kind and is willing to give you another chance. So let this be a lesson to you to go straight."

The old man seemed to have shrunk to half his size as he rose and followed the Chief out of the door. In the outside room he met Colonel Baxter. "I'm sorry," he said and was gone, but whether he was sorry he had done wrong or sorry he had been caught was doubtful.

"So that solves the Mystery of the Queen's Fan," said Colonel Baxter as the young people came into the shop a few moments later. "Old Peter has confessed."

"Colonel Baxter, you don't know what a relief it is," cried Phil. "I got so nervous, being shadowed all the time, that sometimes I wondered if I had stolen it." Phil laughed in a strained manner. "It's a great relief. You know, half the time, I think the girls believed I was guilty."

"Why Phil Gordon! What an idea!" exclaimed Kit Patten. "We all stood by you to a man! Every single moment you were backed by the Merriweather Girls! And you know it!"

"Yes, I guess I do. You are friends worth having, but it all looked so bad for me that I wouldn't have blamed you in the least."

"We didn't doubt you for a single minute!" exclaimed Shirley.

"You should have heard Bet defending you to that dumb detective, Amos Longworth!" cried Joy.

Bet could laugh now as she recalled the conversation. Her relief was great, especially as Colonel Baxter had plead for Peter Gruff and he was to go free, on the promise that he would leave the village and never come back.

As the group left the shop, Bet caught Phil by the arm.

"Phil, I must talk to you alone."

"All right. Let the others go on," suggested the boy. "We'll walk slowly."

Colonel Baxter turned and saw his daughter and knew that she was making a clean breast of her suspicions against her friend. He smiled and spoke to the other girls. "Come on Kit, we'll take you home first. You're the nearest!"

When a short distance was between them, Bet suddenly caught Phil's arm. "Phil, I must tell you that, since Saturday when I found the fan, I thought you had taken it."

Phil stopped short. The color had left his face. "Bet! How could you!" There was a real hurt in his voice. "I thought you knew me better than that."

"I did, Phil. When I finally showed Dad the evidence against you I made him promise not to believe that you did it, even when things looked bad."

"But what was the evidence against me, Bet? I don't understand."

"The fan was wrapped in your handkerchief!"

"Of course it was. I forgot that until this minute. I was afraid the fan would get dirty so I wrapped it in my handkerchief."

"And Phil, I'd have known it was that way, if I hadn't been so terribly worried."

"How did the other girls feel about it when you told them?"

"Oh I wouldn't tell them. I hid the handkerchief. No one knows about it except me and Dad."

"Bet, you're a sport! I like you! Now, forget that you ever blamed me, and don't feel badly about it."

They hurried ahead to catch up with the others and all met at Kit's gate.

"Isn't it a wonderful night!" Bet exclaimed suddenly, looking up into the sky. "Why, I never saw so many stars before! They fairly sing!"

"The singing is in the heart of the Merriweather Girls who have saved the Manor from being sold and have also saved the reputation of their good friend," suggested Colonel Baxter.

"It's good to be alive!" cried Phil.

Then the Colonel hesitated a moment. "You know I am going to reward the Merriweather girls for finding the queen's fan."

"Hooray!" shouted Bet. "What's the reward?"

"We don't need any reward! We're glad we got the fan and found the thief," said Shirley, and Kit and Joy agreed with her.

"I was thinking I'd like to send Bet and her chums to a mountain camp for the summer. What is that place I investigated last year, that sounded so attractive? What was the name of it?"

"Do you mean, Campers' Trail? Oh Dad, do you mean it?"

"Yes! I'll invite all of you to go to that camp for the summer."

"The Merriweather Girls on Campers' Trail," laughed Bet heartily. "Doesn't that sound like a jolly story!"

"We can have fun there and ride horses over the hills!" Bet shouted happily.

"We'll fill it full of adventure!" exclaimed Joy.

"And love, loyalty and helpfulness!" said Shirley quietly.

"Then yo-ho-ho for Campers' Trail!" they chanted in a gay chorus.



THE END



CHEER LEADER

By JANET SINGER

Anne Benson, a Junior in the Oxford high school, has set her heart on winning the coveted position of "Head Cheer Leader." Although this seems a simple enough desire, Anne finds herself involved in a series of baffling adventures in trying to attain it—including the machinations of a gang of professional gamblers, and the mysterious kidnapping of the football team's star fullback. It is a quick-moving, vital story that will appeal to every American girl.



JANE, STEWARDESS OF THE AIRLINES

By RUTHE S. WHEELER

We feel positive this book is the best girl's story we have ever published. Air travel has created an entirely new profession for girls, and it goes without saying that these hostesses have the thrilling and romantic experiences young girls will want to read about. The story is "chock-full" of adventure. From the time Jane Cameron obtains her position as stewardess on a large air transport, her experiences with passengers, the thrills of meeting movie stars and other celebrities becomes more and more exciting, until Jane, herself, gets into the movies.



PEGGY STEWART SERIES

By GABRIELLE E. JACKSON

Peggy Stewart at Home

Peggy Stewart at School

Peggy, Polly, Rosalie, Marjorie, Natalie, Isabel, Stella and Juno—girls all of high spirits make this Peggy Stewart series one of entrancing interest. Their friendship, formed in a fashionable eastern school, they spend happy years crowded with gay social affairs. The background for these delightful stories is furnished by Annapolis with its naval academy and an aristocratic southern estate.

The Goldsmith Publishing Co.

CHICAGO, ILL.

THE END