Read Ebook: A Collection of Seven and Fifty approved Receipts Good against the Plague Taken out of the five books of that renowned Dr. Don Alexes secrets for the benefit of the poorer sort of people of these nations. by Alessio Piemontese W J

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Ebook has 883 lines and 36390 words, and 18 pages

"Tell me," Barbara continued, "no one has properly explained it to me how you happened to be at the right place just at the right moment? And how did Mollie find you to tell you I was concealed in the woods with a sprained ankle? It's too much for me. Please explain?"

"Not so fast, Miss Thurston, if you please," pleaded Mr. Stuart. "Ruth and I would like to be regarded as angels dropped from the sky, but the truth must be told! She and I were speeding along this very road, a little faster than is perfectly proper, as we were hoping to make our way before dusk to the home of a charming lady, Mrs. Thurston, who lives with her two attractive daughters, in Laurel Cottage, Kingsbridge. What did we see? A small, excited girl ahead of us, who seemed to be trying to run faster than our auto could travel. Nevertheless, we caught up with her. Who do you think she was? Miss Mollie Thurston! We were all so surprised that it must have taken us quite a minute to explain matters to each other."

"You can imagine," added Mistress Mollie from the front seat, "how jolly glad I was!"

For some time Mrs. Thurston had been anxiously awaiting her daughters' return. She was standing at the gate of her home, when a familiar chug, chug, chug, sounded up the road. "I must be dreaming," she thought. "I am so worried at the girls being out late that I imagine I hear Ruth's automobile bringing them home to me. How lonely it has been for us all since Ruth and her father went away!"

"Chug, chug, chug," the noise sounded louder than ever. A splash of red appeared at the turn of the road, a siren whistle blew, and a well-known, crimson motor car rapidly approached her gate. Mrs. Thurston rubbed her eyes. It was the Stuart's automobile and no other. Sitting enthroned in it was that gentleman and his daughter. And, could it be possible? Barbara and Mollie, as well!

Mrs. Thurston's gentle face glowed with pleasure. Switfly as a girl she threw open her gate and was waiting on the sidewalk when the car stopped in front of her with a flourish.

"I am so delighted to see you," she said, extending her hand to Mr. Stuart and kissing Ruth on both cheeks. "Where did you find my daughters? But what's the matter with you, Bab?" she asked, as she noticed her child's pale cheeks.

"Nothing, now, mother," said Bab, hopping up, but sitting down again just as promptly. "I have sprained my ankle a little, not very much. I would like to get into the house to take off my shoe. It pinches until I feel like the mean sister trying to squeeze her foot into Cinderella's slipper."

"Come on in with me, every one of you," she pleaded. "Dear Mr. Stuart, you are not going to take Ruth up to the hotel with you for even one night. Remember, you promised she was to visit us, as soon as you returned."

"Do let me stay, father," coaxed Ruth, dancing after them. "I have no trunk to worry about at present. Aunt Sallie is coming back, day after to-morrow, and she is to bring my trunk with her. Father and I traveled all the way in the automobile."

Mrs. Thurston followed Mr. Stuart out as he was saying good-bye. He had agreed to leave Ruth with them. "Mr. Stuart, you can go to your hotel, if you wish to engage your room, but you must come back and have tea with us. We have hot rolls, honey, and fresh milk for supper. There is no use in your denying that is your favorite evening meal."

"I don't want to deny it, Mrs. Thurston," was Mr. Stuart's answer, as he stepped into his car. "I will come back with pleasure. On my way to the hotel I shall call at the doctor's and ask him to come around and look after Bab's foot."

NEW LIGHT ON OLD PAPERS

"Mother, you are worried about something," said Barbara to her mother early the next morning as they sat alone in their little dining room, which was bright with the September sun.

Mrs. Thurston started nervously. She had been thinking so deeply that Bab's voice had startled her.

Mollie and Ruth had rushed off early to find Grace and bring her back with them. Susan, the maid, was in the yard hanging up her dish towels. Mrs. Thurston had supposed Bab was deep in reading the history of David Copperfield, which lay open on her lap.

"You don't answer me, mother," complained Barbara, as she saw her mother's face flush under her gaze. "You might as well ''fess up' and be done with it. I know there is something wrong."

Mrs. Thurston hesitated; then she answered quietly: "You are right, Bab, dear. I am very much worried and it is about money. But I did not want you children to know of it until I was obliged to tell you. Barbara, half of our income is gone!"

"Oh, mother!" cried Barbara, "what do you mean?"

"Well, dear," said her mother quietly, "the money has not entirely gone yet. But I fear it soon will go. Your uncle wrote me that some stock he bought for me had been going down, down, until finally it will cease paying dividends altogether and be of no value. How shall we manage then? I have been lying awake at night trying to plan. You know it takes every cent we have to live in even the simplest way. Oh, Bab, what shall we do?"

Barbara looked grave. "Did Uncle Ralph write you about this?"

"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Thurston, "two or three weeks ago. I have had it on my mind ever since. Your uncle used to own some of this same stock, but he wrote me he had sold out some time ago."

"It is strange he didn't tell us to sell at the same time," Barbara reflected. "What does Uncle Ralph propose that we do? He is so rich I think he might show some interest in you, poor dear. You are his only sister, especially since he has made all his money out of the business father founded."

"Your Uncle Ralph suggests," Mrs. Thurston faltered, "that we find some work to do. But you and Mollie must be educated, and I am so ignorant of business."

Barbara's cheeks were crimson and her brown eyes flashed. "I think, mother," she said quietly, "it will be just as well for us to learn a little more about Uncle Ralph's management of our business. I am going to consult Mr. Stuart; I am sure he will give us good advice; he is such a clear-headed business man. Don't you worry, mother, dear, for I am sure things will turn out all right."

Mrs. Thurston rose to go out to market.

"Before you go, mother," Barbara begged, "will you please let me see the roll of father's business papers you have stored away in the trunk in the attic. Oh, I know they are of no value, but just the same I am curious to see them."

"Well, if you are so determined, all right," sighed Mrs. Thurston.

Before she left the house she handed Barbara a roll of old papers tied with a crimson cord.

Bab sat pondering with the papers in her lap. She was more frightened at her mother's news than she would show. They were mere girls, she and Mollie, and their little mother had no knowledge of business. She shook herself impatiently. Barbara was an optimist--things would turn out all right.

Soon Bab wrinkled her forehead and tried to settle down to her work; the papers were altogether incomprehensible to her. Most of them were old business contracts. Yet, here was one that seemed a bit different. It was in Uncle Ralph Le Baron's handwriting, but so faded that it was difficult to read. Slowly Bab deciphered it: "On demand, I promise to pay to John Thurston the sum of five thousand dollars for value received." To this was appended her uncle's well-known signature, Ralph Le Baron.

"Well," sighed Barbara, as she started to tie the papers together again, "I suppose Uncle Ralph settled this debt a long time ago."

Suddenly a big, cheerful presence darkened the doorway.

"Hello, Bab!" called Mr. Stuart. "Why are you alone?"

"The girls have gone up to the Squire's for Grace," Bab explained, "and mother is at market. But do please come in and wait for them. Ruth told me to keep you; she wants to ask you about something very important."

"May I inquire what you are doing, Barbara?" Mr. Stuart queried, taking a seat. "Are you preparing to be a lawyer's clerk that you spend your spare hours poring over musty business papers?"

Barbara blushed. "I am almost ashamed to tell you, Mr. Stuart, but you and Ruth have been so awfully good to us, I think I shall just ask you one more favor. These are some business papers my father left when he died. No one has ever looked them over. I have always wondered if they could be of any value. Of course I know it is foolish of me to even dream of such a thing. But would you mind glancing at them, please?"

Barbara handed the roll of documents to her friend with such a pretty look of pleading in her brown eyes that a much harder hearted man than Mr. Stuart could not have refused her.

"Certainly; I shall be glad to have a look at them," Mr. Stuart answered.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. The only sound in the room was the soft refrain of the old clock on the mantel. Barbara held her breath, but she knew she was foolish to feel so excited.

Mr. Stuart examined the papers closely. One after another he read them through. This big western man who had made a fortune by his own brains and ability, was devoting the same care to Barbara's apparently worthless papers that he would give to his own important business affairs. Suddenly he looked up. He held in his hand the promissory note signed by Ralph Le Baron acknowledging his debt for five thousand dollars to his brother-in-law, John Thurston.

"I presume," Mr. Stuart said quietly to Bab, "that your uncle settled this debt years ago; but if he did, why was the note never canceled?"

At this moment Mr. Stuart and Barbara heard a rustle of skirts, and looking up they saw Mrs. Thurston, her arms full of bundles, and her face white. "What do you mean?" she said in a strange, hard voice. "What money should have been paid by my brother years ago? Please explain."

"Why," said Mr. Stuart, so quietly you could have heard a pin drop in the stillness of the little room, "I mean, of course, this five thousand dollars, which, as I see by the date, your brother borrowed from your husband eleven years ago. Let me see, that was one year before your husband's death!"

Mrs. Thurston sank into a chair. Mr. Stuart reached her just in time to save her from falling. He took the bundles from her hand and waited. For a minute Mrs. Thurston could not speak.

Barbara felt her heart pounding away and her pulses throbbing; but she made no sound.

"Was this money paid you by your brother when he settled your estate?" Mr. Stuart repeated his question.

"No!" faltered Mrs. Thurston.

"Have you any memorandum among your husband's papers which would prove that the money was returned to him before his death?"

Mrs. Thurston shook her head. Barbara was staring at her mother with wide open brown eyes, her cheeks paling, then flushing. Here was a mystery!

"What can't be true, mother?" inquired Bab at last. Her mother did not answer.

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