CHAPTER IV

THE LUCKY RING

After the two girls and Mrs. Winters had discussed and rediscussed Bab’s legacy until they had viewed it from every possible angle, Bab began to think in more practical terms.

“The lawyer says that he will ‘wait upon’ me in a day or two,” said the girl, dimpling at the idea of Barbara Winters being “waited upon.” “After that I suppose I’ll be perfectly free to visit the ancestral mansion, sha’n’t I, Granny?”

The old lady nodded, smiling.

“Naturally you will want to look over your property, dear. Though I wouldn’t expect too much,” she warned. “From all I have heard, your uncle’s house was in a deplorable condition. He would never spend a cent for repairs.”

“She doesn’t really care about the house,” explained Gerry, sparkling. “All she wants is to be supplied with a pick and shovel. Then, on with the treasure hunt!”

“Of course, I sha’n’t want to go all alone,” said Bab pensively, not looking at Gerry. “I’ll positively have to have company on such a perilous adventure.”

“Some people have said that I’m the very best company in the world,” returned Gerry.

Bab giggled.

“Would you really like to come, Gerry?” she asked.

Gerry snorted.

“Just try to keep me out of this party!” she said.

Of course Mrs. Winters decided that the girls must have adult companionship upon their very interesting adventure. After considerable thought on the subject Bab and Gerry decided to ask Rosa Lee, Barbara’s old colored nurse, to go along.

Mrs. Winters demurred.

“I don’t think Rosa Lee is exactly the proper chaperon,” she said.

“Oh, but, Granny, she’s such a wonderful cook!”

“Take her, by all means,” laughed Mrs. Winters. “But ask some one else to go along, too.”

This was a hard problem and one that required much consultation and earnest thought. The girls finally gave it up for that day, and abandoned themselves to a glorious period of anticipation.

The next day the lawyer came.

Gerry Thompson happened to be on hand for one of the most interesting conferences in which either she or Barbara Winters had ever

## participated.

It was shortly after breakfast. In fact, Mr. Winters had not yet finished his breakfast. But as Gerry was in the habit of turning up at odd moments almost any time of the day or night, Bab’s family saw nothing odd in that young lady’s joining them at such an hour. Mr. Winters even urged her to take some bacon and eggs with him.

As a matter of fact, there was a great bond of sympathy between the old gentleman and the jolly young girl, and Gerry Thompson petted and cajoled him as much as she did her own father, to the great delight of Mrs. Winters and Bab.

This morning Mr. Winters seemed in better spirits than usual. He was enormously excited about Bab’s legacy. Though Jeremiah Dare was no relation of his, he had heard him referred to occasionally by his wife. In his secret thoughts he had surrounded the eccentric old fellow with a sort of glamour as a miser, who, in the course of his bartering in various old world ports, had perhaps found the opportunity of hoarding a considerable fortune.

Of this considerable fortune then, reasoning as Mr. Winters reasoned, his pretty, golden-haired Barbara was sole heir. The five hundred dollars left to his granddaughter seemed to the old gentleman a godsend; an open sesame as it were, to the treasure he had firmly settled in his own mind must be hidden somewhere in the old house in the country.

Although the years had piled themselves relentlessly upon the broad shoulders of Caleb Winters, he remained youthfully enthusiastic at heart; a man whose spirit, despite care and nagging worries, would never age.

Now, as he helped Bab and Gerry from the platter of eggs for the second time, he spoke of Bab’s legacy in glowing terms.

“You really think we ought to go up to the old house right away!” cried Bab eagerly. Mrs. Winters smiled indulgently upon the three children, grown-up one included. “Oh, Gran, do you really think there is a fortune hidden about that old house?”

“Why not?” cried the old gentleman. “If I were in your shoes, youngster, I’d not let another blade of grass grow under my feet before I made an attempt, at least, to find out the truth. It’s the kind of mystery and adventure not many youngsters get a chance at, nor oldsters, either,” he added, with a wistful gleam in his eye. “Egad, what would I give, I wonder, to be able to shrug forty-odd years from my shoulders.”

“Dear Gran!” Bab was beside him, her arms about his neck and her soft cheek pressed against his bristling one. “Listen to me, please! Whatever I find up in that old house--if I find anything--is yours, yours and grandmother’s. Do you hear me?”

“Gracious, there’s the bell!” cried Mrs. Winters as a peremptory summons tinkled through the house. “Who can our caller be, I wonder, so early in the day?”

She hurried from the room and the others heard her in a low-toned conversation with some one at the door. When she returned her face was as red as though she had just finished the day’s baking.

“It’s a lawyer,” she said in a whisper, “and he wants to see Bab.”

Bab jumped to her feet.

“A lawyer!” she repeated, feeling flustered. “Are you sure he wants to see me?”

“Quite sure. Run along, dear.”

“If you need any help, Bab, lean on me!” Gerry offered her arm and Bab giggled nervously.

“You come with me, Granddaddy,” she begged. “I feel the need of moral support.”

Her grandfather chuckled.

“Come on, then,” he said. “I dare say the fellow won’t bite.”

However, upon seeing the stranger, Bab was not so sure of that. He looked as though he might be tempted to bite upon the slightest provocation.

He was short and thin and wiry, was this lawyer, Mr. James. He had a head that was too large for his body and he was exceedingly bald. His eyes were small and beady, his nose large and his mouth the most thin-lipped Bab had ever seen.

He was seated on the extreme edge of one of the worn but comfortable chairs and he looked up with so sharp an expression on Bab’s entrance that the girl feared he was prepared to bite at once!

Mr. Winters spoke in his usual cordial tones.

“Ah, Mr. James?” he said. “Glad to know you, sir. I presume you have come to talk business with my young granddaughter here, who, I understand, is heir to her great-uncle’s property.”

“And little enough it is,” said Samuel James uncompromisingly.

His tone was dry and musty as, indeed, was his whole appearance. Bab Winters had the impression that he had spent his life poking into law books and other people’s business. She disliked him at once with an intensity that was not characteristic of her.

“But, such as it is,” Mr. Winters continued, with disarming geniality, “I suppose your purpose in coming here is to turn it over to its rightful owner.”

“Just so,” retorted Mr. James dryly. “I have here”--he reached for a portfolio which he had dropped at the side of his chair--“papers left by my client, now deceased, including the deed to his house. Here also are the keys to the house and a check for five hundred dollars on my late client’s bank. I had strict orders before the death of Mr. Dare to deliver these things in person and, by so doing, discharge my last duty to him.”

Bab willingly surrendered the papers to her grandfather, who fell to examining them carefully, while she herself reached for the keys--keys to the first property she had ever owned.

Bab thrilled. What might not these little bits of rusty iron disclose to her? What mysteries had they locked the door upon, perhaps mysteries to be revealed only by her own exploring hand? What was the fortune that awaited her behind locked doors?

Besides the keys there was a finger ring--a ring of dull gold, broad and flat, like a Signet ring. But, instead of a monogram, there was engraved on the back the image of a tiny, smiling Buddha with jeweled eyes, green, emerald eyes that gleamed in the sunlight.

“What is this?” she asked.

“It is a ring of considerable value and antiquity,” said the dry voice of the lawyer. “It is supposed, by those superstitious enough to believe it, to bring luck to its wearer. It was your uncle’s wish, Miss Barbara, that you wear the lucky ring day and night.”

“How queer!” exclaimed Bab, vaguely excited. “I’m not a bit superstitious, but of course I’ll wear it. It is really very beautiful.”

##