CHAPTER XVIII
BAB'S EXCITING DISCOVERY
A CHORUS of "Merry Christmas" was heard as the clock in the hall struckthe hour of midnight. Olive was seated at the piano. As the strokes ofthe old clock ceased, she touched the keys softly, then began to sing.The girls knew the song. They joined with her, raising their sweet,young voices in the Christmas anthem:
"Hark the herald angels sing Glory to the new-born King! Peace on earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled!"
Ere the song ended, Ruth's father had slipped away. He had beenprofoundly stirred. Ruth saw him go. She stole away after him. It washalf an hour later that Barbara, on her way to her own room, whereMollie already had gone, saw Ruth's door slightly ajar. Bab tappedlightly. Ruth's voice bade her enter. But Bab shrank back when she sawMr. Stuart sitting there. His face was drawn and sad. There were tearsin Ruth's eyes. Barbara could scarcely keep back her own tears, sokeenly did she feel for these two whom she loved so well. The girlstammered an apology and drew back.
"Bab, dear, come in," called Mr. Stuart.
"Yes, do. We need you. Perhaps you may be able to make daddy smile. Ican't, because I have no smiles left in me."
"I--I am afraid I haven't, either," answered Barbara, with tremblinglips. "Hadn't I better go to my own room? Perhaps you wish to talkundisturbed."
"We want you here," answered Mr. Stuart. "Please close the door and sitdown." Bab walked to the centre of the room, where she stood leaningagainst a table gazing down on them questioningly. Ruth nestled on herfather's knee with an arm thrown affectionately about his neck.
"My dear," he said, addressing Barbara, "I have just been telling Ruththat this may be the last Christmas that she will be able to have allher heart craves. I mean in the way of luxuries. My business affairs arein a very bad way. You already know that Mr. Presby has no hopes ofbeing able to pull through. When he goes, I go. We shall go downtogether. We have been speculating in wheat. We have loaded up soheavily that I see no possibility of getting out." He pausedreflectively while the lines of his face grew haggard.
"You mean you are going to lose all you have?" almost whispered Barbara.
"Yes. Instead of the price of wheat going up, as it should have done atthis season of the year, wheat has been forced down and down by a strongbear market. Behind it all there is a powerful but mysterious force, amaster brain that is forcing the price down and seeking to ruin us."
"Have you no idea who is doing this--who your enemy is?" asked Barbara.
"Nothing more than a vague suspicion. You see, the trading is donelargely through others. There is no one man, so far as we have been ableto discover, who is crowding us, forcing us to load up and to hold at afrightful cost to ourselves. We know, however, that there is anindividual force back of this movement. Richard has mortgaged hisproperty to the last cent. After the first of the year, unless there bea turn for better in his affairs, Treasureholme will be taken away fromhim. After the first of the year I shall be a ruined man financially."
"Mr. Stuart," said Barbara in a steady voice, "I felt that you shouldnot have spent all that money on those beautiful gifts for us. I feeleven more strongly about it now. Won't--won't you please take them back?Oh, you understand what I mean," cried Barbara, flushing hotly as shesaw his gaze fixed inquiringly upon her.
"Yes, my dear, I do. And I thank you. You are a noble girl. But evensuch a sacrifice on your part would do no good. A few hundred dollarswould make no difference. I wanted Ruth and her friends to have a happyChristmas; I wanted you all to be remembered as you deserve. As it is, Ihave not done all that I had wished to do."
"Oh, you have done too much!" exclaimed Barbara.
"I wanted you as well as Ruth to understand just how matters stand. Ifeel better for having unburdened my mind."
"Would it help you in the least if you were to know who this man is whois driving you and Mr. Presby to failure?" asked Bab.
"It might help somewhat, thought it may be too late. Had I known a monthago I might have succeeded in turning the tide against him."
"Oh, daddy, give it up! It's a dreadful business," begged Ruth.
"I am afraid I shall have to, whether or not I wish to do so. I agreewith you that it is a dreadful business, and if I get out of the woodsthis time, I am through with speculation. Now, children run along. Iwish to talk with Mr. Presby. He awaits me downstairs."
Mr. Stuart kissed both girls, but clung to their hands a moment as hegazed into their eyes. Then he released the hands and moved toward thedoor. Ruth and Barbara stood watching him until Mr. Stuart had passedfrom their sight and they heard him descending the stairs.
"Good night, dear. I can't talk any more to-night," said Ruth,controlling her voice with an effort.
"I--I am afraid I can't either," answered Bab, with averted eyes.
She left the room rather hurriedly, closing the door behind her. For along time after Barbara had left Ruth Stuart's room, she lay in her ownbedroom on a lounge staring straight up at the ceiling. Mollie wasasleep, her golden head barely visible above the tops of the covers. "IfI could only do something for these good friends," murmured Bab. "Butwhat can a girl do? I wonder how much money it would take to save them?It would take a lot, I know."
After a time Barbara got up to get her handkerchief. She had droppedhers in Ruth's room. On the dresser lay Barbara's hand bag, the one shehad carried with her on her way from Kingsbridge. She had not used itsince, Ruth having bought her a very handsome bag in Chicago during oneof their shopping expeditions. Bab remembered that there was ahandkerchief in the bag.
Opening the bag, she drew out the handkerchief which lay under someother articles. As she did so something white fluttered to the floor afew feet from where she was standing. Barbara wiped her eyes, then stoodregarding herself in the mirror. She saw that her own face was troubledand that her eyes were red, as though she had been weeping. Then shestepped over, picking up the handsome coat that Mr. Stuart and Ruth hadgiven her for Christmas. With a sigh Bab laid the coat down, smoothed itout and began preparing for bed. She had given no further thought to thelittle piece of white cardboard that had slipped from her handkerchief afew moments before. Bab was in bed, snuggling down by Mollie, veryshortly afterwards, with the lights turned off. The girl lay staringinto the darkness until her weary eyelids closed and she dropped off tosleep.
When Barbara awoke the following morning Mollie was still sleepingsoundly. Bab, however, rose at once, still rubbing her eyes and tryingto recall something that had been troubling her when she went to sleep.Suddenly it all came back to Bab in a flood of disagreeablerecollection.
Barbara took her time at making her toilet, thinking deeply as shebrushed her thick, fine hair before the mirror. The girl had half turnedto call Mollie when all at once she caught sight of the bit ofpasteboard lying on the floor.
"I wonder what that is? I remember seeing something fall from the baglast night."
She picked up the card, glanced at it carelessly and was about to tossit on the dresser top when suddenly Bab uttered a little gasp. Her handtrembled. She gazed with staring eyes at the name on the card. "Mr.Nathan Bonner," she read.
For the moment Bab continued to stare.
"The man in section thirteen," she murmured. Bab tried to recall whathad been said about Nathan Bonner, but she could not remember. She knewonly that what she had heard had left an unpleasant impression on hermind. It was Nathan Bonner whom she had seen in the Pit at the Board ofTrade. She shuddered as she recalled the almost demoniac expression onthat hard, cruel face. Then all at once the conversation that she hadoverheard while lying in her berth in the sleeping car on that eventfulnight came before her.
"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Barbara under her breath.
"What ever is the matter with you, Bab?" demanded a voice from the bed.
"Oh, Molliekins, I've made such an exciting discovery. But I can't say aword about it. I must find Mr. Stuart this very minute. I must hurry. Ihaven't a
moment to lose. Oh, I do hope I am not too late!"
The Automobile Girls at Chicago; Or, Winning Out Against Heavy Odds Page 18
