CHAPTER XVIII--LACES AND GOLD
At four o'clock in the afternoon Patsy rubbed her eyes, yawned andraised her head from her pillow.
"Dear me!" she sighed, "I'm tired yet, but this sleeping in the daytimeis unnatural. I wonder if Beth is awake."
She went to the door of the adjoining room, opened it and found hercousin dressing.
"Do you suppose anyone else is up?" she inquired.
"See there," replied Beth, pointing through the window.
Patsy saw. Mr. Runyon was seated on a garden bench in earnestconversation with Mildred Travers.
"Didn't he go home this morning, after the excitement was over?" sheasked.
"No," replied Beth. "Mr. and Mrs. Hahn drove their car home, but ourinteresting neighbor at the north, Mr. Bul Run, declared there wasnothing at his own ranch half so enticing as a bed here. He's abachelor, it seems, and leads rather a lonely life. So Arthur gave him aroom and he went to bed; but it seems he has had his sleep out and isindulging in other recreations."
Patsy was eyeing the couple in the garden.
"Mr. Runyon seems to have struck up a friendship with your protegeMildred," she observed.
"Yes," answered Beth. "You know he was shut up in the wall with her andInez for awhile and the adventure must have made them feel wellacquainted. Wasn't that imprisonment a most peculiar thing, Patsy?"
"Very peculiar. I haven't had much time to think about it, for as soonas Toodlums was safe in Louise's arms I went to bed. But it occurs to meto wonder how Mildred Travers knew so much of the secrets of this absurdold house and why she ventured to explore the hidden rooms in ourabsence. Put that with the fact that she lived in these parts as a girl,and with her eagerness to come out here--don't you remember her fervent'thank heaven'?--and it seems the whole mystery isn't unraveled yet;it's only getting more tangled."
Beth was thoughtful for a time.
"I am sure Mildred will have some explanation to make," she saidpresently. "Don't let us judge her just yet, Patsy. And I advise you toget dressed, for there's Louise wheeling the baby, and perhaps everyoneelse is downstairs but us."
"Louise and baby both slept all through that awful night," remarkedPatsy, again yawning. "No wonder they're up and around and lookingbright and happy." But she took her cousin's hint and dressed so rapidlythat she descended the stairs only a few moments after Beth did.
Uncle John, the major and Arthur were in the court, smoking and sippingcoffee. The events of the past night were still being earnestlydiscussed by them and much speculation was indulged in concerning therooms in the hollow wall and the uses to which they had been put duringthe pioneer days when Cristoval constructed them, and even afterwardwhen his son, the last owner, had occupied the premises.
"The entire ranch," said Arthur, "as well as this house, was sold by theexecutors appointed by the court, for it seems that Cristoval had noheirs in this country. The money was sent over to Spain and dividedamong a host of relations, the executors were discharged, and that endedthe matter as far as the law is concerned. But I am sure the secret ofthe wall was at that time unknown to any, for otherwise the furniture inthose narrow rooms, some of which is expensive and valuable on accountof its unique carving, and the bins of wine and other truck, would havebeen sold with the other 'personal possessions.' I bought this place ofa man who had purchased it at the executors' sale but never has lived init. All the rooms were stripped bare, which goes to prove that thehidden recesses in the walls were unknown. Now, the question is, do Ilegally own the contents of that wall, or don't I?"
"I stepped into the rooms, this morning, with the others, but merelyglanced around a bit," said Mr. Merrick. "I've an idea you mayrightfully claim whatever is there. The value of such old, odd pieces isarbitrary and they wouldn't total enough at an auction sale to botherabout. My idea, Arthur, is that you remove whatever you care to retain,stop up the rat holes, and then seal up the place forever."
"I suppose," remarked the major, "those hollow places in the wall wereof real value in the days of wild Indians and murdering highwaymen. But,as John Merrick says, they're of no use to anyone now, but rather asource of danger."
"Was that door left open?" asked Patsy.
"Yes; and I put a brace against it, so it couldn't close and shut usout," replied Arthur.
"That doesn't matter; Mildred knows the way in," said Beth. "The wholetrouble was that Inez closed the door behind them and they couldn'tmanage to get out again."
Mr. Merrick sipped his coffee reflectively.
"That girl," said he, "ought to explain how she knows so much--and solittle."
"And what she was doing in the secret rooms," added the major.
"She'll do that," piped a high voice, and in sauntered Mr. Runyon andsat down to pour himself some coffee. "I've just leftMiss--er--er--Travers, and she has decided to tell you all her wholestory, frankly and without reservation, and then she wants to ask youradvice."
"Whose advice?" demanded Arthur.
"Everybody's advice. She asked mine, a little while ago, and I told herto put it up to the crowd. The poor thing has had a sad history andthere's a bit of romance and tragedy connected with it; but she has beenquite blameless. I haven't known you people long, but I'll bank on yourgenerosity and fairness, and that's what I told the poor girl."
"Where is she now?" asked Patsy.
"In the garden with Mrs. Weldon and Toodlums. They'll all be herepresently."
The little group remained silent and thoughtful until Louise enteredwheeling the baby in her cab and followed by Mildred Travers. Thenurse's face was white and troubled but she had acquired a newattractiveness for the reason that her eyes had softened and were nowpleading instead of defiant.
Inez came running from the nursery to take baby, but Louise would notlet little Jane go. Although she had escaped much of the past night'smisery, thanks to Dr. Knox's quieting powders, the young mother wasstill unnerved and liked to have the child where she could see it. SoInez sat on a bench and held Jane, who was the least concerned of anyoneover her recent peril and fortunate escape.
The court was shady, cool and quiet. Those assembled eyed Mildredcuriously and expectantly, so that she was really embarrassed at first.Beth, who felt in a measure responsible for this waif of a great city,because she had been instrumental in bringing her here, gently ledMildred to a beginning of her story by asking a few questions thatafforded the girl an opening.
The entire party listened gravely to the recital, for only Inez, amongthose present, had ever heard any part of the strange tale before.
Mildred told practically the same story she had related to the Mexicangirl the night before, but went more into details and explained morefully her girlhood acquaintance with Senor Cristoval.
"He was an unusual man," said she; "aged and white-haired, as I rememberhim, and always dressed in white flannels, which threw his dark skininto sharp relief. He lived alone in the house, having but oneman-servant to do all the work, cook his meals and cater to hisslightest whim."
"Miguel Zaloa," said Inez in a low voice.
"Cristoval was not popular," said Mildred, "for he loved money so wellthat he was reputed to be a miser. It was this love of money, I think,that induced him to go into partnership with my father in his illegalsmuggling enterprises. Cristoval furnished the money and when my fatherhad slipped across the border with his bales of rare laces, they werehidden in the hollow wall until they could be forwarded to San Franciscoand sold.
"And this brings me to a relation of my present interest in this house,"she continued. "When we escaped from California a large lot of veryvaluable Mexican laces which belonged exclusively to my father washidden in the wall. The sale of a former lot of smuggled goods hadresulted in a large profit and Cristoval had received a bank draft forthe amount, one half of which was due my father. When we last sawCristoval at San Bernardino, before we left for New York, he promised myfather to cash the draft and send him the proceeds. This he never did,although he advanced my father,
at that time, a sum of money from othersources to pay our expenses until we could establish ourselves in theeast.
"To avoid suspicion, my father always allowed Cristoval to bank thepartnership money, drawing on the rich Spaniard from time to time forwhat he required. Father told me that altogether Cristoval owed him ninethousand dollars, besides the bale of laces, valued at ten thousandmore. He wrote many times to demand this money, using a cipher they hadarranged between them, but his letters were never answered. I know nowthat Cristoval died soon after we went to New York, so whoever got theletters, being unable to read the secret cipher, of course ignored them.
"Just as Leighton was being taken to prison, the last time I ever sawhim, he told me to find some way to come here and get the money. He saidthat if Cristoval was dead, as he then suspected, the secret of the wallwas still safe, for the old man had vowed never to disclose it. Hethought I would find the laces still hidden in the wall, and perhaps themoney."
"Did you look to see, while you were there?" asked Arthur Weldon.
"Yes. There is no evidence of any property that I could rightfullyclaim."
It was a strange recital, and a fascinating one to those who heard it.
"Who would think," said Patsy, "that in this prosaic age we would get soclose to a real story of smuggling, hidden treasure and secret recessesin walls? It smacks more of the romantic days of past centuries."
"We must not forget," replied Louise, "that of all our numerous statesCalifornia has the most romantic history. It wasn't so long ago that theSpanish don flourished in this section and even yet it is more Spanishthan American except in the big cities."
"As for smuggling," added Runyon, "that is going on to-day--as merrilyas in the days of the famous Leighton, if on a smaller scale. I've somechoice cigars over at my ranch that have never paid duty, and I've anorder with the smuggler for more. So, after all, there's nothing veryastonishing in Mildred Leighton's story."
"The wall we have practical evidence of," said Uncle John. "I suppose itwill hold its secret rooms for many years to come, for these adobedwellings are practically fire-proof and are built to defy time."
"But about Mildred's fortune," cried Patsy. "Don't you suppose it ishidden, after all, some place in the wall?"
"From what I have heard of Cristoval," said Arthur in a reflective tone,"he was not considered a dishonest man, but rather miserly andgrasping."
"My father," explained Mildred, "trusted him fully until we went awayand could get no answer to his letters. The old Spaniard was very fondof me, also, and he would hold me in his arms and say that one day Iwould be a rich lady, for my father and he were both making my fortune.I was very young, as you know, but I never forgot that statement."
"Suppose," suggested the major, "we make another and more thoroughsearch of those secret rooms."
"We will do that," replied Arthur promptly. "It is too late to undertakethe task to-night, but we will begin it right after breakfast to-morrowmorning. Inez, I wish you would slip down to the quarters and ask Miguelto come and help us. Tell him to be here at nine o'clock."
The girl nodded, gave the baby to Mildred and stole quietly out of thecourt.