lunch has not yet arrived. It will be here soon," Miss Brayton
informed him. "We will spread it in the main room here, if you have no
objections. It will be cool and pleasant; and, besides, there are no
flies in here."

"For goodness' sake, forget your appetite," growled Ned in Stacy's ear.

"Can't a fellow talk about his appetite without being found fault with?"
Chunky sulkily retorted.

"Not the kind of an appetite you have. It's a positive disgrace to the
outfit."

"Huh!" grunted Chunky, walking away.

The lad wandered off by himself, and the rest forgot all about him in
their investigation of the old church. Miss Brayton told them as much of
its history as she knew.

"Some of the former priests are said to have been buried somewhere in
the edifice," she said.

"I don't see any signs of it," said Tad.

"No. No one ever has in our time. And it has even been hinted that
treasure has been buried here, too, or secreted in some of the
mysterious recesses of the church."

"Where are they" asked Walter. "I am beginning to get curious."

"I am sure I do not know," laughed the young woman. "There is a sort of
garret, if you can get to it, above the gallery there. Maybe you might
find something there. I have an idea that it is inhabited by bats."

"I guess we will leave them undisturbed," decided Tad. "I don't like
bats."

"There come the servants," announced Miss Brayton. "Now your friend will
be able to satisfy his appetite."

At her direction the servants brought in the baskets of food. A cloth
was spread over a stone table that they found at the far end of the
church in the balcony. What its use had been, in those other days, they
did not know, but it served their purpose very well now.

"I am afraid we shall have to eat standing," said Miss Sadie. "We have
no chairs."

"That will suit Chunky," replied Ned Rector. "He always likes to eat
standing."

"Why?" asked Margaret, glancing up at him inquiringly.

"For some reasons of his own," answered Ned mischievously.

As the good things were spread before them the eyes of the lads lighted
appreciatively, and all helped themselves gratefully.

It was a jolly party, untouched by the air of mystery that was supposed
to surround the place.

"Why, where is Master Stacy?" asked Ruth Brayton in surprise, after they
had been eating a few moments.

"Chunky? That's so, where is he?" demanded Walter, glancing over the
railing into the auditorium below.

No on