Vevi made a grimace. “I’m not afraid of that old dog!” she insisted. “Next time I’ll take a switch and make him obey! I want to see the inside of the old mill.” “So do I, Vevi. Maybe we can go out there again next week, if our mothers will let us.” “Some of the flowers should be in bloom by then,” Vevi went on. “I’d like to load the boat with them and float down to the Mattox place.” “And be run off,” Connie added with a laugh. “That’s you, Vevi, always ready for trouble.” “Why do you suppose the Mattoxes aren’t friendly with Peter and Hanny?” “How should I know?” shrugged Connie. “Maybe it’s because they come from Holland. That shouldn’t make any difference, though.” Vevi’s mind, as active as a humming bird, had darted on. “Why do you suppose that boat is called the Golden Tulip?” she speculated. “And why wouldn’t Hanny tell us what was kept in that padlocked little house?” “She did act mysterious about it,” Connie admitted. The car sped on, striking an uneven place in the pavement. Vevi was thrown forward in her seat. She would have struck the coat rack had not Miss Gordon reached out to hold her back. “We’re going rather fast,” she said pointedly to Mr. Piff. “Have to get back to town,” he replied without slowing down. “I have an appointment at the hotel with a man from the Chamber of Commerce. We stayed too long at Windmill Farm.” The automobile whirled around a bend in the road so fast that the tires screamed. Then Mr. Piff had to put on the brakes. Directly ahead, was a stalled car. The hood was up and a middle-aged lady in a blue hat, stood looking helplessly at the dead engine. “Shouldn’t we stop and offer to help?” Miss Gordon suggested. “There isn’t a garage closer than two miles.” “No time,” Mr. Piff muttered. “I’ll be late for my appointment. Women shouldn’t drive cars if they don’t know how to repair them.” “I only hope Mrs. Langley doesn’t recognize us as we whirl pass,” remarked Miss Mohr. “Mrs. Langley?” Mr. Piff demanded. “Not the garden club president?” “Well, yes,” nodded the librarian. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Mr. Piff took his foot from the accelerator and applied the brakes. Even so, he could not immediately stop the car. It sped past the stalled automobile and pulled up some distance down the road. Mr. Piff started to back up. “Your appointment--” began Miss Gordon dryly. “That can wait,” Mr. Piff rejoined. “My motto is ‘Always help a lady in distress.’ Particularly if her name is Mrs. Langley!” _Chapter 4_ THE LITTLE LOCKED HOUSE Leaping out of the sedan, Mr. Piff rushed over to the stalled automobile to offer his services to Mrs. Langley. “Having trouble?” he inquired, tipping his hat. “I think a wire must be broken somewhere,” replied Mrs. Langley. “Either that or the fan belt. Oh, dear, I know so little about motors.” “Allow me,” said Mr. Piff.