storm.”

Kitty and Doris did not hear, for their attention had been attracted to a little brown dog which stood in the roadway regarding them with wistful, friendly eyes.

“Oh, isn’t he cute!” Doris exclaimed. “Here, doggie! Come here!”

The little animal first backed timidly away and then, as the girls continued to coax, hesitated, and finally came a few steps toward them, wagging his tail in a friendly way. As Doris stooped to pat him on the head he gave a pleased bark, and raising up on his hind legs, eagerly offered her his right paw.

“He knows tricks,” Doris declared. “Oh, I wonder who owns him?”

“Looks to me like a stray dog,” Dave told her. “He hasn’t any collar or license. The dog catcher will likely get him before long.”

“Not if I can help it!” Doris declared. “If he doesn’t belong to anyone, we can take him with us.”

“What will the Misses Gates say when you come dragging him in?” Dave asked with a smile.

“Oh, they won’t care. He’s such a darling!”

“What shall we name him?” Kitty questioned.

“Let’s call him Wags,” Doris exclaimed impulsively. “The name seems appropriate.”

Wags had no objection to entering the car and snuggled down comfortably between the two girls. With an anxious glance at the sky, Dave started the engine.

“Looks like a big storm is rolling up,” he said.

The girls had been so interested in Wags that they had paid scant attention to the clouds, but now as Doris looked about, she was alarmed. The air was oppressive and not a breath of wind was stirring. Heavy black clouds had loomed up in the west and rapidly were spreading over the entire sky.

“I think I can get you to Locked Gates before it strikes us,” Dave said grimly, as he shifted gears and stepped heavily on the gas pedal. “Hold tight!”

The roadster fairly shot down the road. As the figures crept upwards on the tape of the speedometer, Doris and Kitty clung to each other. Not until the car began to rock and weave on the road, did Dave reduce his speed and then only slightly. However, he held the roadster steady and handled the wheel with such a sure hand, that the girls had confidence in his driving.

It was the appearance of the sky which frightened them. The sun had been entirely blotted from sight, and though it was mid-afternoon, it seemed nearly as dark as night. Dave snapped on the headlights.

“I’ll get you to Locked Gates before the storm breaks,” he announced in relief as they rounded a sharp curve and came within sight of Rumson. “Fortunately, the place is right at the edge of town.”

A few minutes later, he brought the car to a groaning halt in front of the old Gates estate. In the gathering darkness the girls caught but a glimpse of the large, rambling house which was set back some distance from the road, but that was sufficient to assure them that it was gloomy and forbidding.

“Here you are,” Dave said briskly. “Nice place for a murder!”

“Ugh!” Doris murmured. “You make my hair stand on end!”

“I almost wish we hadn’t come,” Kitty said nervously.

“Oh, everything’s all right. I was only joking.” Dave sprang from the car and went over to try the double gates which barred the entrance. “Just as I thought! Locked!”

“Then how are we to get in?” Doris questioned.

“There’s an entrance at the rear. Guess these gates are always kept locked. We’ll try the other gate.”

Driving the roadster down a side street, he found the back entrance and helped the girls to alight. As he picked up their suitcases to take them to the door, Doris glanced again at the storm clouds. A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, and she knew that unless Dave started back at once, he would be caught in the rain.

“Don’t bother to take us to the door,” she commanded. “Start for Chilton this minute!”

“I don’t like to leave you here until I know everything is O. K.,” he protested.

“It’s only a step to the door, Dave. Be a good boy and don’t wait.”