young
man's room.

"Are you in, Arthur?" asked Uncle John, knocking briskly.

"Yes, sir."

He opened his door at once, and saw with surprise the little group of
anxious faces outside.

"Is your money safe?" asked Uncle John.

Weldon gave them a startled glance and then ran to his dresser and
pulled open a drawer. After a moment's fumbling he turned with a smile.

"All safe, sir."

Uncle John and his nieces were visibly relieved.

"You see," continued Arthur, "I've invented a clever hiding-place,
because the satchel could not be left alone and I didn't wish to lug it
with me every step I took. So I placed the packages of bills inside the
leg of a pair of trousers, and put them in a drawer with some other
clothing at top and bottom. A dozen people might rummage in that drawer
without suspecting the fact that money is hidden there. I've come to
believe the place is as good as a bank; but you startled me for a
minute, with your question. What's wrong?"

"Tato's gone."

"Gone!"

"Departed bag and baggage."

"But your fifty thousand, sir. Is it safe?"

"It has to be," answered Uncle John. "It is in a steel-bound,
double-locked trunk, to which I've lost the key. No bank can beat that,
my boy."

"Then why did the child run away?"

They could not answer that.

"It's a mystery," said Patsy, almost ready to weep. "But I'll bet it's
that cruel, wicked father of hers. Perhaps he came while we were out and
wouldn't wait a minute."

"What does the hall porter say?" asked Kenneth, who had joined the group
in time to overhear the last speech and guess what had happened.

"Stupid!" cried Uncle John. "We never thought of the hall-porter. Come
back to our sitting room, and we'll have him up in a jiffy."

The portiere answered his hell with alacrity. The Americans were liberal
guests.

The young lady? Ah, she had driven away soon after they had themselves
gone. A thin-faced, dark-eyed man had called for her and taken her away,
placing her baggage on the box of the carriage. Yes, she had paid her
bill and tipped the servants liberally.

"Just as I suspected!" cried Patsy. "That horrid duke has forced her to
leave us. Perhaps he was jealous, and feared we would want to keep her
always. Was she weeping and miserable, porter?"

"No, signorina. She laughed and was very merry. And--but I had
forgotten! There is a letter which she left for the Signorina D'Oyle."

"Where?"

"In the office. I will bring it at once."