e
present, there had been no diminution in the mill boy's resentment. Now
there was this later injury, or injustice, as he believed, about the
money found in the cellar of "Charity House."

The facts were these: the glittering coins had, when estimated, been of
about one thousand dollars' value. To Fayette this seemed an enormous
sum; to Mr. Wingate, a trifle. In the chest with the treasure had been
also a time-yellowed letter, or memorandum, signed by the wife of Jacob
Ingraham, and decreeing that the property thus hidden had been placed by
her own hands in the wall of the cellar of "Spite House" for the
"benefit of my nearest of kin."

The document, in itself, was as curious as its hiding-place, and proved
that the ancient dame had been a keen observer of men's failings, if not
their virtues.

"For I have seen, in this, my lifetime, that gold profits a man nothing.
It is ever a bone of contention, and he who has it is poorer than he who
has it not. I hope this chest will do him good who finds it; and if it
is never found, then the earth will be so much the richer by this small
portion of the wealth it has lost. In any case, to prevent evil, and, if
possible, to secure a blessing, I have said one prayer over each coin
herein disposed, and so, in duty to my conscience, I lock the box and
throw the key down the old well of this Bareacre knoll."

The letter had further added that nobody, not even Jacob Ingraham, had
known of this bestowal of the chest, because had anybody, "most of all,
he," so known, it would have been excavated and its contents scattered.

Now Archibald Wingate was, on his mother's side, the last direct
descendant of Mrs. Ingraham, and the property was clearly his. To him,
as soon as he returned from his prolonged stay out of town, the broken
chest and intact contents had been given by the superintendent, who, Mr.
Kaye promptly decided, would be the proper guardian of the treasure
until his employer returned.

There had been a terrible scene with Fayette when Cleena told him this
decision, and for several days thereafter the lad had not been visible.
Some thought he had gone off in one of his wanderings through the woods
and fields; but the truth was, he had been kept under lock and key by
the energetic and masterful Cleena Keegan. She had assured that patient
listener, herself, that:--

"Sure, it do be right. Will I lose all the good we have gained for the
sake o' bad temper? The end's in sight