things
seem to have been burned here, mostly old letters. Who knows but what
the key may have been thrown in too!" She began to rake the dead ashes,
and suddenly a half-burned log fell apart, dropping something through to
the bottom with a "chinking" sound.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered. "Something clinked! Ashes or wood
won't make that sound. Oh, suppose it is the key!" She raked away again
frantically, and hauled out a quantity of charred debris, but nothing
even faintly resembling a key. When nothing more remained, she poked the
fragments disgustedly, while Cynthia looked on.

"See there!" Cynthia suddenly exclaimed. "It isn't a key, but what's
that round thing?" Joyce had seen it at the same moment and picked it
up--a small, elliptical disk so blackened with soot that nothing could
be made of it till it was wiped off. When freed from its coating of
black, one side proved to be of shining metal, probably gold, and the
other of some white or yellowish substance, the girls could not tell
just what. In the center of this was a curious smear of various dim
colors.

[Illustration: "Well, what do you suppose that can be?" queried Cynthia]

"Well, what do you suppose that can be?" queried Cynthia.

"I can't imagine. Whatever it was, the fire has pretty well finished it.
You can see that it must have been rather valuable once,--there's gold
on it. Here's another question to add to our catechism: what is it, and
why was it thrown in the fire? Whatever it was, it doesn't help much
now. If it had only been the key!-- Good gracious! is that a rat?" Both
girls jumped to their feet and stood listening to the strange sounds
that came from under the valance hanging about the bottom of the great
four-poster bed. It was a curious, intermittent, irregular sound, as of
something being pushed about the floor. After they had listened a
moment, it suddenly struck them both that the noise was somehow very
familiar.

"Why, it's Goliath, of course!" laughed Cynthia. "This is the second
time he has scared us. He has something under there that he's playing
with, knocking it about, you know. Let's see what it is!" They tiptoed
over and raised the valance.

Cynthia was right. Goliath was under the bed, dabbing gracefully with
one paw at something attached to a string or narrow ribbon. Despite the
rolls of dust that lay about, Joyce crawled under and rescued it. She
emerged with a flushed face and a triumphant chuckle. "Goliath beats