an's answer, with a slight shrug of
the shoulders.

They reached Sunny Slopes about noon, and decided--at least their
ravenous appetites decided for them--that they had better have something
to eat before they inquired further into the mystery of Mrs. Bragley's
papers.

Nan was the only one who seemed very much excited, and the others did
not notice that the girl scarcely touched her lunch. It seemed an age to
her before the meal was finished and Mr. Mason declared that they were
ready to make their investigations.

Nan and her friends would have been very much surprised had they known
that they were being followed on their trip to Sunny Slopes, yet such
was a fact. The two men who had tried so hard to gain possession of
Sarah Bragley's documents were growing desperate.

"We've got to do something and do it quick," snapped the tall, thin man.
"Do you hear me?"

"I certainly do," growled the other.

"If we fail we won't get a cent of the cash that was promised to us."

"I know that, too," answered the short man, and scowled deeply.

Mr. Mason had once, in his less affluent days, been a real estate broker
himself, and so pooh-poohed his wife's suggestion that he get some one
who knew the country to direct them.

"My dear," he said, "if this Mrs. Bragley has any property around here,
I'll find it."

He had, with Nan's consent, examined the documents the widow had given
her and had seemed, to Nan's eager eyes, to have been considerably
impressed by them.

So now as they crowded out of the restaurant--it was the first one they
had come to, and they had been too hungry to argue about its elegance or
lack of it--and climbed into the cars again, Nan could hardly keep still
in her eagerness to know the truth at once.

They passed down a short business street, and then, making a turn, came
out on a broad country road.

"Sunny Slopes begins about a mile from here," said Mr. Mason. "It covers
quite a bit of territory, I am told. While one end is quite barren, the
other end is excellent for orange growing and is covered with bearing
trees."

"Oh, dear, I hope Mrs. Bragley's end is the orange-growing end!" cried
Nan.

"Don't be too much disappointed if it isn't," said Mrs. Mason kindly.

Suddenly Bess, who had been laughing and talking with Rhoda about school
affairs, gave a little bounce and cried out excitedly:

"Look there! Isn't that an orange grove?"

"It surely is," Mr. Mason called back to her, adding i