“Those ancient documents,” Phil told her quietly, “don’t look like much. But, according to Taggart’s confession, when we turn them in we’ll collect about $50,000--their cash value plus back dividends and interest.”
For a moment no one spoke. Then Jimmy yelled: “WHOOPEE! The hidden treasure is found at last. And boy oh boy, will I ever get the finest sailboat that was ever launched!”
“I can’t believe it,” Marjorie said in an awed voice. “Why, I--I’m an heiress!”
“_I_ can believe it,” Peter said, pretending to be mournful. “Penny will never marry poor penniless me now.”
“Of course not,” Penny said with a laugh. “And now Phil doesn’t have to marry Adra for her money either.”
Everyone laughed then, almost hysterically. They were all tired and over-stimulated. Dawn was pinking the sky in the east.
“If you ask me,” Jimmy said, stretching and yawning, “I’d say we all ought to catch a little shut-eye. I for one won’t believe any part of Phil’s yarn until I hear it all over again in broad daylight.”
But the next morning, after consulting the older men who were staying at the Lodge, the Allens learned that the old stock certificates were worth even more than Taggart had estimated.
“I know the company well,” Mr. Curtis told Phil. “Bought stock in it myself a few years ago when it got a government loan and staged a comeback.”
And then, to the delight of everyone, Adra’s father, Mr. Prentice, arrived by plane. They were all eager for the advice of such an experienced businessman.
“I wouldn’t sell,” he said, after hearing the whole story. “You couldn’t invest your money in a safer concern. When you collect your back dividends you’ll each have a tidy sum if you need cash now. If not, I would reinvest that money and thus provide yourselves with a comfortable yearly income from it and the original investment.” He smiled at them. “I’ll handle the whole matter for you, if you like.”
“Please do,” Penny cried. “Oh, it’s all so wonderful! Peter and I can get married right away and Marjorie and Jimmy are assured of college educations.”
“What about us?” Philip crossed over to stand beside Adra who was perched on the arm of her father’s chair. “Sir,” he said with old-fashioned formality, “your daughter has done me the honor of promising to become my wife. With your permission we would like to be married sometime this fall.”