here!"

Bobby was so excited his hands shook. He spread three or four
stained sheets of paper on the ground.

"It looks like a letter," said Meg, puzzled.

"It is," announced Bobby triumphantly. "I can't read it very well,
'cause the writing goes together, but see here's the beginning:
'My dearest Lou,'--that must be Mrs. Harley."

"Show us where you found 'em," demanded the twins. "Right down in
those little rocks?"

"It's a kind of cave," said Bobby. "See, in between there's a
hollow place and I was just going to see how far it went. It's
lined with bricks in there."

"My d-e-a-r-e-s-t L-o-u," spelled Meg, who could not read as well
as Bobby. "Oh, Bobby, hurry and let Mother read it. Maybe it will
say where Mrs. Harley went."

No going through the woods this time. The four little Blossoms ran
as hard as they could, making every possible short cut and paying
no attention to inquisitive bushes that reached out brier fingers
and tore their clothes. Meg carried the cups and Bobby the letter,
and when they reached the bungalow they were all so breathless
that at first they could not speak.

"Oh, Mother!" gasped Bobby, when he could speak, "we found a