Carolyn May did not suspect this possibility as being at all immediate. She felt deeply for "the Lairds" nevertheless, and did all that her sunny heart dictated in the matter of cheerful prattle and friendly acts for the pale lady and her baby. She was a very thoughtful little girl these days, too. The ten thousand dollars she had heard the secretary and René talking about made a lasting impression on her mind; and because the pale lady was in such trouble because of the lack of money, it was only natural that thought of the money loss of the man at the Orowoc House should be continually stirring in her busy brain. "It is wonderful--" Carolyn said to him the next time she saw him. He was driving alone with his negro coachman on this occasion. She climbed into the back of the hotel carriage with him to ride to the life-saving station, Mamma Cameron having given her permission. "It's wonderful what folks can do with money," she went on. "Indeed?" questioned the man with sudden harshness. "Are you money-mad, too, my little lady?" "Oh, no! _I'm_ not mad at all. I'm just as _pleasant_," explained Carolyn, rather puzzled. "But sometimes, you know, I spend money in my 'magination. I call it playing 'If I Were Rich.' And my pale lady used to play it with me. Only, she did used to be rich her own self, and she can tell all about it." "You are speaking of the baby's mother?" he asked with sudden attention. "Isn't that what you called the woman whose carriage our car crushed that time in New York? 'The pale lady'?" "Oh, yes, sir." "And was it she who sent back that twenty dollar bill to me?" he demanded, eying the child curiously. "I guess her husband sent it back." "Mr. Laird?" "Yes, sir." "Proud, are they?" snapped the man. "Can they afford pride, I wonder?" But Carolyn May could not answer that. She only said slowly: "Well, the pale lady doesn't care to play my game any more. I spect it's 'cause they want real money so bad that she don't feel like talking 'bout make-believe money." "What do they want money for?" asked her friend. "I don't just know. But it's something Barzilla wants him to do, I guess, and he can't do it without money--quite a lot of money," said Carolyn innocently. "Of course, _I've_ got some money myself. But the pale lady and her husband aren't folks you could _give_ money to. They are not like Johnny O'Harrity's folks who live in our basement." "No?" "No, indeed! They--they respect themselves too much, my mamma says. But my! they could do lots if they had--well--maybe ten thousand dollars." "Quite a sum, for a fact. What would you do, Carolyn May, if you had that amount of money?" "Oh!" the little girl cried suddenly. "There's that ten thousand dollars that you lost. You 'member that?" The change of expression in her friend's face would have startled the little girl had she seen it. It was full half a minute before he spoke again. "What do you know about that, Carolyn?" he asked harshly.