“I wish we had brought some snowshoes,” Merry remarked.

The
Seven Sleuths’ Club

By CAROL NORTON

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Author of
“The Phantom Yacht,” “Bobs, A Girl Detective,” etc.

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The Saalfield Publishing Company
Akron, Ohio New York

Copyright MCMXXVIII
The Saalfield Publishing Co.
Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Enter the S. S. C. 3

II. Snow Maidens 9

III. A Merry Adventure 15

IV. Interesting News 29

V. A Mischievous Plan 36

VI. Milk Maids and Butter Churners 44

VII. An Unwilling Hostess 51

VIII. Three Letters 59

IX. A Returned Call 72

X. Wanted—A Housekeeper 80

XI. A Rebellious Boy 93

XII. A Sleigh-ride Party 98

XIII. A Bag of Gold 106

XIV. Two Conspirators 118

XV. A Boy’s Repentance 125

XVI. The Heart of a Snob 137

XVII. First Day in a New School 144

XVIII. A Mystery to Solve 153

XIX. Searching for Clues 163

XX. The Sleuths Sleuthing 171

XXI. A Valentine Party 183

XXII. A New Resolve 194

XXIII. A Proud Cook 201

XXIV. Kindness Rewarded 211

XXV. A Much Loved Girl 219

XXVI. A Happy Reunion 225

XXVII. Home, Sweet Home 231

THE SEVEN SLEUTHS’ CLUB

CHAPTER I.
ENTER THE S. S. C.

A musical gong, resounding through the corridors of the Sunnyside seminary, was the signal for the opening of doors and the trooping out of girls of all ages, in twos and threes and groups; some with ribboned braids, a few with long curls but most of them with saucy bobs. It was a ten-minute recreation between changing classes. Had it been summer, one and all would have flocked out on the wide green lawns to play a game of toss ball for a few merry moments, or to rest on benches under the great old elms, or to saunter up and down the flower-bordered paths, but, since it was a wild, blustery day in January, the pupils of Miss Demorest’s school for select young ladies contented themselves, some of them with opening the heavy front door and uttering little screams of pretended fear or of sincere delight when a snow-laden gust brushed past them, leaving those nearest with wind-tossed hair.

Six of them, having no curiosity, it would seem, concerning the weather, gathered about the wide fireplace in the library for a few moments of hurried gossip.

“Where’s Merry?” Peggy Pierce asked as she glanced toward the open door that led into the music-room. “She said we were to come in here and wait for her. She’s made a wild and wonderful discovery, she told me in class. If Miss Preens didn’t have eyes in the back of her head, Merry would have told me what it was, but, just as she was starting, around whirled that living skeleton and pointed an accusing bony finger at us as she moaned in that deep, uncanny voice of hers: ‘Miss Marion Lee, one demerit