a man
peering through the window of Olive's sitting room upstairs, while the
girls were chatting after the others below stairs had gone to bed. A
ladder found on the outside explained how the man had gotten to the
window. That his spying had something to do with the mad hunt for the
treasure, they had no doubt. In this instance their screams, aided
perhaps by the bottle of smelling salts that Olive had instantly hurled
through the window upon catching sight of him, had driven him away.

Christmas eve at last was at hand. The air without was crisp and clear,
within all was cheer from the blazing fireplaces, with decorations of
holly festooned with ribbons in all the downstairs rooms. The dining
room had been cleared as soon as possible after dinner, for it was there
that a Christmas tree was to be set up, there that the presents were to
be distributed to the "Automobile Girls" and various members of the
family. Excitement ran high. Bob Stevens had been invited to join in the
festivities, which included a molasses candy pull and games appropriate
to the occasion.

Seven o'clock had just boomed out on the grandfather's clock in the
hall when there came a ring at the door. The girls, with ears alert,
heard a familiar voice greeting Mr. and Mrs. Presby. Down the stairs
rushed the girls, with Ruth in the lead, crying at the top of her voice:

"It's my daddy! Oh, it's my dear daddy!" Ruth flung herself into her
father's arms. She had not seem him in more than two weeks. The rest of
the girls rushed up to Mr. Stuart, each giving him an affectionate hug,
for to them he seemed almost as much a father as he did to Ruth.

Barbara's heart sank as she stepped back to take a good look at Mr.
Stuart. His face was positively haggard. Ruth had observed this in the
first glance and two great tears dropped from her eyes to Mr. Stuart's
shoulder as she clung there.

"Dear daddy. Don't take it so hard. You have me," whispered Ruth. This
brought a momentary relaxation to the tense muscles of the speculator's
face.

Barbara was shocked at his appearance. He seemed to have added years to
his age since last she saw him. Mr. Stuart observed her inquiring gaze
fixed upon his face. He smiled reassuringly, well understanding that she
had noted the change in him. Then, to divert Bab's thoughts, he pinched
Mollie's dimpled chin.

"How is my little Molliekins since her adventure in the lower regions of
Treasureholme?" he questioned.

"My stoc