flushed with the excitement of the hunt. "Yet they might be important
to Grandie. Suppose we tie them up in something and save them until he
is strong enough to look over them? He brought Reda here penniless,
and without any belongings, and whatever she has he would have a
perfect right to look over," finished Mary.

"I think so, too," agreed Madaline, evidently disappointed her find had
not yielded some exciting clew.

Gathering up the papers, a picture fell to the floor. Madaline quickly
recovered it, and presently all the girls were scrutinizing the
photograph.

"It is you and your mamma," declared Cleo. "Look at both your eyes,
and her wonderful mound of hair."

"Yes, that is truly Loved One," said Mary, tenderly brushing the bits
of leaves from the picture. "I have never seen this before. I wonder
why Reda hid it away from me?"

"And here's another," called Grace. "This is some man dressed as
a--tourist--I guess. See his big hat and the short trousers."

"Oh, that's daddy!" cried Mary. "Let me see it. Darling daddy," she
exclaimed, grasping the new found treasure and holding it in close
scrutiny. "Wasn't he handsome!"

All the girls pored over the picture of the tall, good-looking man,
dressed in the light clothing usually worn in warm countries, the big
helmet hat pushed back from his face, and his hand resting on a stout
bamboo stick.

"See, he has that sort of cane," corrected Cleo. "Wouldn't it be
wonderful if it were really a piece of his own walking cane?"

"It really might be," Mary reflected. "Dear me, I do wonder why Reda
hid those things? And she must have taken them from Grandie or from my
things. They certainly could not have been hers."

On the reverse side of the picture was the name of some photographer in
Panama, and having made careful examination without success for
possible notes or written names, as might give further information,
Mary folded her two pictures carefully, and laid them aside with the
bamboo stick.

All this time the girls kept wondering why Mary could not tell them
what was the nature of the loss that had so affected the professor.
Hiding himself and hiding Mary seemed a strange thing to do, except for
some reason that might entail danger in discovery, and what possible
danger could there be in two perfectly honest persons using their own
names?

"I was to look for Reda's thimble," said Mary, jamming in the trunk
some heavy coats and woolens that se