The other end was not so often visited.  It had once formed the estate of a very wealthy man, who built a large mansion there.  But, on his death, the property was contested for in the courts by several heirs and for years had been tied up by litigation.  So the mansion became deserted.

Of sufficient importance to have a railroad, as well as a steamer line, Deepdale was well provided with transportation facilities.

True, the railway was only a branch one, but it connected with the main road running to New York, and this was enough for the people of Deepdale.  The town also boasted of a paper, the Weekly Banner, and there was a good high and grammar school in town, besides numerous stores, and other establishments, including a moving picture theatre—­this last rather an innovation.

Our girls—­I call them ours, for it is with their fortunes that we shall be chiefly concerned—­our girls lived near each other on the outskirts of the town.

Betty and her parents occupied an old-fashioned stone house, that had once been the manor of a farm.  But it was old-fashioned outwardly only, for within it was the embodiment of culture and comfort.  It set well back from the street, and a lane of elms led from the front porch to the thoroughfare.  Back of the house was an old-fashioned garden, likewise well-shaded, and there were the remains of an apple orchard, some of the trees still bearing fruit.

On the other side of the street, and not far off, was the home of Grace—­a modern brick house of tasteful design.  It had ample grounds about it, though being rather new could not boast of such noble trees as those that added dignity to the old stone house.

Amy Stonington lived in a large, rambling wooden structure, too large for the needs of the family, but artistic nevertheless.  It was just around the corner from the residence of Betty, and the yards of the two girls joined—–­if you can call the big orchard of Betty’s home a “yard.”

Mollie’s home was near the river, about ten minutes’ walk from that of the other three girls.  It was a wooden house of a dull red that mingled well in tone with the green grass and the spreading trees that surrounded it.

And now I believe I have mentioned my principal characters, and places, though others will be introduced to you from time to time as our story progresses.

So on this pleasant spring day, for one of the few times, Amy was not brooding on the subject that had given her such uneasiness of late.  Nor were the other girls concerned with anything save the finding of the five hundred dollar bill, which absorbed everything else for the time being.

“Who could have lost it?” wondered Mollie.

“There aren’t so many persons in Deepdale who can afford to throw away money like this,” added Amy.

“It wasn’t thrown away—­it was lost,” declared Betty, “and we must find the owner if we can.”