he
could find no one.

"It wasn't the doctor, that's sure," he said. "And the grocer's boy
would have gone to the back of the house. Are you sure you saw
anything, Betty?"

"I saw a man's shadow," averred Betty positively. "I was sitting
facing the window, you know, and watching the million little motes
dancing in the shaft of light, when a shadow, full length, fell on
the floor. It was for only a second, as though some one had stepped
across the porch. Then I told you. Bob, I know I shan't sleep a wink
to-night."

"Nonsense," said Bob stoutly. "Who could it have been? Goodness
knows, there's nothing worth stealing in the house."

"Those sharpers," whispered Betty. "They might have come back and be
hanging around hoping they can make your aunts sell the farm to
them."

"I'd like to see them try it," bristled Bob. "Isn't it funny, Betty,
we can't make the aunts believe there is oil here? I think Aunt
Charity might, but Aunt Hope is so positive she rides right over her.
Well, I hope that Uncle Dick comes back from the fields mighty quick
and persuades them that they have a fortune ready for the spending."

Despite Bob's assurances that he could find no one, Betty was uneasy,
and she passed a restless night. The next day and the next passed
without incident, save for a visit from Doctor Morrison in the
late afternoon. He did not come every day now, and this call, he
announced, was more in the nature of a social call. He had been told
of Bob's relationship to the old ladies and was interested and
pleased, for he had known them for as long as he had lived in that
section. He carried the good news to Grandma Watterby, too, and that
kind soul, as an expression of her pleasure, insisted on sending the
aunts two of her best braided rugs.

"I have a note for you from your uncle, Betty," said the doctor,
after he had delivered the rugs.

People often intrusted him with messages and letters and packages,
for his work took him everywhere. He had been to the oil fields and
seen Mr. Gordon and had been able to give him a full account of
Betty's and Bob's activities. In a postscript Mr. Gordon had added
his congratulations and good wishes for "my nephew Bob." The body of
the letter, addressed to Betty, praised her for her service to the
aunts and said that the writer hoped to get back to the Watterbys
within three or four days.

"I'll need a little rest by then," he went on to say, "for
I've been in the machine