“Oh, yes!” said Connie. “A Brownie’s word is as good as gold,” added Vevi. “Tell us your secret, Hanny.” “It belongs to Uncle Peter as much as to me. You’re sure you can keep the secret if I tell you?” “Brownie’s honor,” said Connie soberly. “Then wait here,” directed Hanny. “I will be back in a minute.” She ran off to the house. Vevi and Connie could not imagine what she was after. Soon she came flying back, something clutched in her hand. She opened her fingers to show Connie and Vevi that the object was a tiny padlock key. “Come with me,” she bade her friends. “But you must never, never tell what I am going to show you. Not until after next week at least. Then it will not matter.” Connie and Vevi became rather excited at the thought of seeing inside the locked house. They could not guess what Hanny’s uncle kept hidden there. It made them feel very important to think that Hanny trusted them enough to let them share her secret. “We must hurry,” Connie said, glancing anxiously toward the house. “I think Miss Gordon and Miss Mohr are about ready to start home.” Hanny inserted the key into the padlock and pulled it open. “You mustn’t tell anyone--not even the other Brownies,” Hanny warned. “We promise,” Vevi said impatiently. Hanny pushed open the door and stepped into the dark room. The other two girls followed quickly behind her. “I can’t see a thing!” Vevi complained. “Neither can I,” declared Connie, clinging to her friend’s arm. “Wait! I will let in a little light,” Hanny said. “But only a little.” The room in which the children stood was nearly square, with walls scarcely more than ten feet in length. There were no windows, only a small skylight overhead. The latter had been covered with a blanket to keep out the sunshine. Hanny moved the covering so that a crack of light filtered down. “There!” she exclaimed. “Now can you see?” Vevi and Connie looked about them. The walls of the room were lined with homemade shelves on which were stored large, plump objects which were difficult to identify in the shadowy light. “Onions!” Vevi exclaimed, finally making out their shape. She was bitterly disappointed. For that matter, so was Connie. “Not onions,” corrected Hanny. “Look again.” “Tulip bulbs?” Connie asked. “Yes,” Hanny acknowledged. “Our very best ones are kept here. The temperature is carefully controlled. Uncle Peter and I call this place our treasure house.” Connie and Vevi were so disappointed they could not say a word. For days they had been speculating about the mystery of the little locked house. They had convinced themselves that this room contained something very startling and wonderful. And now to learn that it was only a storeroom for bulbs! Hanny seemed to sense how her friends felt. At any rate, she chuckled as if enjoying their astonishment. “Now, I’ll show you the real treasure,” she promised. “Then you will understand why the secret must be kept.” _Chapter 9_ HIGH WIND