“Excuse me, coz,” spoke up Ned, “perhaps I should not have made you think of it.”

“Indeed, I scarcely ever get it out of my mind.  It just haunts me.”

“That’s why she left school,” Tavia reminded them, “And I left to keep her company,” she finished with a merry laugh at the idea, and its evident consequences.

“A blessing all around,” said Nat.  “What would we have done if neither of you left and we got left—­for this good time.  I hope mom will kidnap Dorothy.”

“Indeed you cannot have her,” declared Tavia.  “I should pine away and die at Dalton without her.”

“Then stay at Birchland,” suggested Ned.  “Plenty of room.”

“But what does the fellow want with the Burlock money?” asked Nat, getting back to the interesting affair that still remained so much of a mystery.

“It’s a long story,” began Dorothy, “and it has not all been told yet.  Burlock was, in some way, in Anderson’s power.  I was with father when poor Mr. Burlock told us about it.  He declared it was all the result of too much liberty in youth and bad company?”

“Be warned, Nat, my boy,” interrupted Ned, jokingly.  “I must have the mater cut you down.  ‘And he rambled till the mater cut him down,’” hummed the brother, paraphrasing the butcher song.

“Spare the allowance and cut anything else down you like,” answered Nat.  “But please do not interrupt again.”

“Then it seems,” went on Dorothy, “Mr. Burlock had a lot of money left him.  From that time on this Anderson followed Mr. Burlock and even succeeded in separating him from his family.”

“But how did Burlock hold on to the cash all that time?” asked Ned.

“Oh, that was kept for him.  He only had the interest of it.  But lately a Mrs. Douglass, of Dalton, died; she had charge of the money because Mr. Burlock was not considered capable of taking care of it himself.”

“And now,” said Ned, “the major has it, and Anderson is trying to get it away by means of information he hopes to get from the major’s daughter?  Easy as a, b, c.  But to whom is the money left?”

“To an unknown or unfound daughter,” said Dorothy.  “Her name is Nellie or Helen Burlock, and it was in hopes of locating her, upon a false clew which Anderson sent, that poor Mr. Burlock met his death.”

“But Dorothy had him all fixed for heaven,” said Tavia.  “Yes, if ever a man died, hoping to be forgiven, it was Miles Burlock.  Those who were with him said so, and it was all Dorothy’s doings.  I must admit I did joke her about it,” Tavia said earnestly, “but she had done so many things girls never do, and she was not strong enough to keep it up, so we all had to try to discourage it.  But you will have to come to Dalton to hear her praises sung.  She is a regular home missionary—­the kind they tell about in meetings, but who are too busy to come and talk about themselves.”

“I am sure Dorothy is an angel,” said Nat, putting his arm affectionately around his cousin.  “I only hope she will save some of her goodness for me—­I do need a mission.”