ng voice.

"Grandma! Great--jumping--horse--chestnuts!" the youth yelled.

Mrs. Castle dropped her ball of yarn, and it went rolling down the steps
into the grass. She laid down her knitting, took off the spectacles and
wiped them, and them put them on again the better to see the amazed youth
below her.

"Well," she said, at length, "I guess I'm caught."

CHAPTER XXII

THE HIDDEN TREASURE

"I'm going to call up the governor--and mom--and Lucy--and Jinny," gasped
the young fellow, who had so suddenly laid claim to being Mrs. Castle's
grandson. "I just want them to _see_ you, Grandma. Why--why, _where_ did
you ever get those duds? And for all the world!--_you're knitting!_"

"You can call 'em up, Tommy," said the old lady, placidly. "I've got the
bit in my teeth now, and I'm going to stay."

"Can we drive in here?" asked Master Tom, quickly, of the girls, whom he
instinctively knew were in charge.

"Yes," said Lyddy. "Of course any friends of Mrs. Castle's will be
welcome."

Tom sang out for the chauffeur to turn into the lane, and in a minute or
two the motor party stopped in the grass-grown driveway within plain view
of the people on the porch.

"Will you look at who's here?" demanded Master Tom, standing with his legs
wide apart and waving his arms excitedly.

The rather stout, ruddy-faced man reading the Sunday paper dropped the
sheet and gazed across at the bridling old lady.

"Why, Mother!" he cried.

"Grandma--if it isn't!" exclaimed one young lady, who was about nineteen.

"Mother Castle!" gasped the lady who sat beside Mr. Castle on the rear
seat.

"Hullo, Grandma!" shouted the other girl, who was younger than Tom.

"I hope you all know me," said Grandmother Castle, rising and leaving her
knitting in her chair, as she approached the automobile. "I thought some
of sending for some more clothing to-morrow; but you can take my order in
to-day."

"Mother Castle! what _is_ the meaning of this masquerade?" demanded her
daughter-in-law, raising a gold-handled lorgnette through which to stare
at the old lady.

"Thank you, Daughter Sarah," returned Mrs. Castle, tartly. "I consider
that from _you_ a compliment. I expect that a gown, fitted to my age and
position in life, _does_ look like a fancy dress to you."

"Ho, ho!" roared her son, suddenly doubled up with laughter. "She's got
you there, Sadie, I swear! Mother, you look just as your own mother used
to look. I remember grandma well eno