more about them than either of you children;
but it's a most astonishing thing, and one I should like very much to
have explained."

"Well, come out and have another look at the box," suggested Guy.

"Wait till your father's finished his tea," interposed Mrs. Ormond. "I
wonder where Brian is all this time," she added. "I wish he were back.
He'll be interested to hear of this discovery."

The children were so excited that they found it difficult to keep still.
Guy especially wandered restlessly up and down the room as though he
were a wild beast in a cage.

"I'll tell you what I believe it is," he exclaimed suddenly; "that old
box has got either a false lid or a false bottom. That's where the
papers were hidden, and in moving it about, the spring was somehow
released, and they tumbled out."

After so many surprises, the young folks were ready to believe almost
anything.

"Well, let's go out and see!" cried Ida.--"Father, you come when you've
finished your tea."

Once more there was a rush to the tool-house, Guy, this time, borrowing
a lamp from the kitchen, which gave a better light than the candle.
Certainly this old box of Uncle Roger's seemed just the very sort of
chest which one might expect to possess some concealed spring which,
when touched, would disclose a secret hiding-place; but tapping and
measurements inside and out proved that there was nothing in its
construction which caused it to differ from any other oak chest
strengthened with bands of iron.

"Well, this licks me!" exclaimed Guy, rising from his knees. "The only
explanation I can give is that the thing must be enchanted."

"I _should_ like to know what it all means," said Ida. "Perhaps father
will be able to tell when he comes. I hope he won't be long."

"Fancy a pony!" cried Elsie. "D'you think he really will give us one?"

"He said he'd consider it," answered Guy; "but I expect that means
'yes.' Hurrah! I tell you what I shall do. I shall go hunting."

The speaker gave vent to his delight by hopping about on one leg; then,
coming in contact with the grindstone, he put his foot on the treadle,
and began to work it as fast as he could.

"The water's all dried up," he said at length, when the stone stopped.
Without thinking what he was doing, he put his hand into the trough, and
began poking his fingers into the sediment which had collected at the
bottom. In the soft mud was something hard, and he picked it out. The
boy glanced careless