ll.

Rupert pushed back his chair. But Val was already half-way to the door
when his brother joined him. And Ricky, suddenly sober, was at their
heels.

_Zzzzzrupp!_ The slitting sound was clear as they burst into the hall.
On the fur rug by the couch lay the writing-desk. Its lid was thrown
back and by it crouched Satan industriously ripping the remnants of
lining from its interior. As Rupert came up, the cat drew back, his ears
flattened and his lips a-snarl.

[Illustration: Zzzzzrupp! _Satan was industriously ripping the remnants
of lining from its interior._]

"Cinders! What has he done?" demanded Charity, swooping down upon her
pet. At her coming, he fled under the couch out of reach.

Rupert picked up the desk. "Nothing much," he laughed. "Just torn all
that lining loose, as I had planned to do."

"What is this?" Ricky disentangled a small slip of white from the torn
and musty velvet. "Why, it's a piece of paper," she answered her own
question. "It must have been under the lining and Satan pulled it out
with the cloth."

"Here," Rupert took it from her, "let me see it."

He scanned the faded lines of writing. "Val! Ricky!" He looked up, his
face flushed with excitement. "Listen!"

"Gatty has returned from the city. The raiders calling themselves
the 'Buck Boys' are headed this way. Gatty tells me that Alexander
is with them, having deserted the plantation a week ago. Since his
malice towards us is well known, it is easy to believe that he
means us open harm. I am making my preparations accordingly. The
valuables now under this roof, together with the proceeds from the
last voyage of the blockade runner, _Red Bird_, I am putting in
that safe place discovered by me in childhood, of which I have
sometimes spoken. Remember the hint I once gave you--By Our Luck.
Having written this in haste, I shall intrust it to Gatty--"

"That's the end; the rest is gone." Rupert stared down at the scrap of
paper in his hand as if he simply could not believe in its reality.

"Richard wrote that." Ricky touched the note in awe. "But why didn't
Gatty give it to Miles when he came?"

"Gatty was probably a slave who ran when the raiders appeared,"
suggested Rupert. "He or she must have hidden this in here before
leaving. We'll never know."

"But we've got our clue!" cried Ricky. "We knew that the hiding-place
was in this hall, and now we have the clue."

"'By our Luck.'"