The lost Treasure

"There's a package for you, Janet." A smiling face was thrust within the partly open door.

"April fool," replied Janet, not looking up from her book for a moment. Then with a twinkle in her blue eyes, she raised her hand impressively and began to recite in sonorous tones the lines that she was learning.

"Exactly like Miss Sanders! Do it that way in class, Janet! I dare you!"

"I would, but it might hurt her feelings to do it in earnest as she does. No, I want to read poetry like Miss Hilliard,-but I can't say that I like to commit it. I want to pick out my own kind, Allie May."

Allie May came inside the door and leaned against it. "Well, Janet," she said, "I think that you might believe me when I tell you that there is a package for you down in the office. Honest. No April fool. Miss Hilliard said for me to tell you to come down. I don't know why she didn't give it to me to bring up. Perhaps she wants to see you anyhow. This is what she said: 'Janet has a box. Please tell her to come down to the office.'"

"H'm. Lina and I had our light on after hours last night. But it was not long, and we had a grand excuse. Lina lost a page of her short story that she had to hand in this morning. Honestly, Allie May, is there a package for me? I never had a box in my life except things sent from the store." Janet had put her book down now and was on her feet starting toward the door and her schoolmate.

"You haven't! Poor you! I hope that it's a grand cake with lots of good things. Maybe the box was so big that Miss Hilliard knew I couldn't bring it up!"

Allie May made big eyes as she linked her arm in Janet's and walked with her to the top of the stairs.

"If it is, you shall have the first and the best out of it. But it isn't. It's probably something brought here by mistake. Thanks, Allie May."

Janet was half way down the long, dark staircase that led to the lower hall when she finished her remarks. Allie May saw her friend's fluffy, golden locks fly out in the wind created by the rapid descent. Smiling, she went to her room, next to Janet's, somewhat struck with the fact that Janet had never received a "box," that delight of a school-girl's heart.

The lower hall was dark on this rainy first of April. None of the doors were open, and Janet Eldon, slight, active girl of fourteen years, stood poised on the lower step for a few moments, looking out through the mullioned panes of the tall, wide door at the entrance. Eaves were dripping and she heard the beat of the drops upon the tin roof of a porch outside.

Eyes the color of brighter skies considered thoughtfully the prospect till the sound of an opening door made them turn in another direction. Quickly Janet stepped to the floor, rounding the newel by catching hold of it and swinging herself around it. At the second door, down the hall to her right, she presented herself.

It was Miss Hilliard, principal of this small school for girls to whom Janet curtsied prettily. "Allie May said that you wanted to see me. Miss Hilliard," she said.

"Yes, Janet. There is a package here in the office that must be meant for you, yet the address is peculiar, to say the least. It is about the size of the usual box that comes for the girls,-come in to see it for yourself."

Miss Hilliard drew back from the door, admitting Janet, who went to the table by the big desk. There a box of medium size reposed, a square package, wrapped in heavy paper and well tied with cord.

"You will notice that the return address is with initials only, from some hotel in Albany, New York," Miss Hilliard continued.