ragging on his boots. "You're a good plucked
un, I know."

"D'you really think so?" answered Elsie, much relieved. "Bri, you're a
brick. I hope you'll kick ten goals this afternoon."

"I shall be content if I kick two," answered the boy, stamping his feet
on the flagstones to settle them into his stiff boots. As he went out he
paused for a moment to look at the grindstone. On the wooden framework
were some dark spots; he examined them more closely, and scratched one
with his nail.

"Humph!--candle-grease!" he muttered.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER III.

UNCLE ROGER'S BOX.

"Hullo! What d'you want?"

"Come here a minute."

[Illustration]

In three days the incident of the grindstone had been almost forgotten,
and Elsie was no longer troubled by any more of Guy's chaff on the
subject of her night alarm. At the present moment she was standing in
her father's library, and had called to her cousin, who happened to be
passing outside in the passage.

"Well, what d'you want?" he repeated as he entered the room.

"Look!" said Elsie, pointing with her finger; "only two more days, and
it'll be time to open _that_. Aren't you longing to know what's inside?"

The object in question stood stowed away in a dark corner of the room,
and the children all knew its history. It was an oak box or small chest,
dark with age and strongly bound with bands of iron; the panels were
ornamented with rough carvings of dragons and other curious beasts, and
where the iron clamps met they were secured with good-sized padlocks.

[Illustration: UNCLE ROGER'S BOX]

This box had stood in its present position ever since the children could
remember, and, indeed, it had been there before even Ida, the eldest of
the three, was born. It had been left to Mr. Ormond by an eccentric old
relative, who had given special instructions in his will that the chest
should not be opened for twenty years after the date of his death. The
children were never tired of speculating as to what would be found in
"Uncle Roger's Box," as it was called; and of late their interest in
the legacy had steadily increased as the time drew near when the riddle
would at last be answered.

"Father says he is going to open it on Thursday morning," continued
Elsie. "November the third; that's the exact date. I say, Brian, what
d'you think's inside?"

"I'm sure I don't know," answered the boy, laughing. "Old clothes,
perhaps."

"Oh, no; it's sure to be something