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Billette, the widow being ministered to by some of her neighbors who had hurriedly come in, on hearing from a servant what had happened. "Tell me all about it, Mother!" cried Mollie, partly lapsing into French in her excitement. Mrs. Billette spoke entirely in that language now.
"Really, my head aches trying to figure things out," Amy complained, as they neared the Billette home. "Well, it seems to me it is just about time some of those detectives found things out for us," Mollie rejoined. "Will ought to be able to help, Grace," she added, "since he is in the secret service." "You may be sure he is doing his best," Grace retorted with spirit.
Amy was of a quiet disposition, and more timid than any of the others. The quartette was completed by Mollie Billette, often called "Billy." Mollie was the daughter of a well-to-do widow of French ancestry, and the girl was a bit French herself in her general make-up.
The twins had been spoiled by their widowed mother, Mrs. Billette, even before the time when they had been kidnapped and spirited off by a hideous Spaniard. But since their recovery, their joyful mother had indulged them in every way until they had become well nigh unmanageable. Yet in spite of everything, the twins were very lovable, and every one loved them, even those whom they annoyed most.
There was a bit of French blood in Mollie Billette, or "Billy," as the girls sometimes called her. Bright black eyes which could, upon occasion, snap fire and a rather unruly temper attested to this French ancestry. The last one of the quartette was Amy Blackford, quiet and retiring, but given to occasional outbursts which never failed to surprise and delight the girls.
"That is just what has happened to us," said Mrs. Billette, as the girls stared incredulously. "We've been robbed of some things that money never can replace. Oh-oh-oh, if I had only put it in a safer place! How could I have been such a fool! Oh! oh!" and Mrs. Billette, poor woman, was fast verging on another attack of hysteria. Mollie put her arms about her mother soothingly.
"Why, Mollie Billette!" reproached Grace Ford. "I think it's perfectly splendid." "But not appetizing," declared Amy Blackford. "I don't see how you can think of eating any, when it's so near dinner time, Grace." "We don't have dinner until seven, and it's only five. Besides, I'm not going to eat many now."
"Afterwards if everybody's willing we will hunt this strange beast that jumps out from porches and leaps into rivers just for the fun of the thing. But just now, Billy Billette, you are going home." But Mollie had been more severely shocked than she was willing to admit by her experience, and it was some time before the girls visited the falls or the river again.
"Of course. I detest waiting for trains or anything else. I'm just dying to go, and I've got the cutest little traveling case. It " "Has a special compartment for chocolates; hasn't it, Grace?" asked Mollie Billette, whose dark and flashing eyes, and black hair, with just a shade of steely-blue in it, betrayed the French blood in her veins.
It can't be more than a few hundred feet away, even though we can't see it for the bushes. Lead on, Mollie Billette, I wouldst hie me hence." But when Mollie laughingly obeyed and started into the woods, Amy held back. "What's the matter?" Grace asked, turning to her curiously. "I I was just thinking," stammered Amy, ashamed of her own weakness, "about last night."
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