ied,
they did it so naively, that every one saw through the lie.

Gaspar Gregorics received the following particulars as to Gyuri's mode
of life:

"He breakfasts at a cheap coffee-house, attends lectures all the
morning, dines at the 'First of April,' the afternoon he passes at a
lawyer's office, copying deeds, etc., and in the evening he buys a
little bacon or fried fish for supper, then goes home and studies till
midnight. Every one likes him, and he will make his way in the world."

That avaricious Gaspar Gregorics began to wish the boy had the quarter
of a million after all, for he might in a few years' time marry his
daughter Minka, who was just eleven.

Anna had let the house, and Sztolarik sent Gyuri thirty florins every
month out of the rent.

The Gregorics divided the 18,000 florins refused by the nine ladies,
among the three of them, and also the few hundreds obtained by the sale
of the dead man's furniture and personal property, but the rest of the
money was still missing.

The whole town was discussing the question of its whereabouts, and all
sorts of silly tales were set afloat. Some said the old gentleman had
sent it to Klapka, and that one day Klapka would return with it in the
form of guns and cannon. Others said he had a castle, somewhere away in
the woods, where he kept a very beautiful lady, and even if he had not
been able to eat up his fortune in the form of melted gold, a pretty
woman would soon know how to dispose of it.

But what made the most impression on every one was, that an ironmonger
appeared at Gaspar's house with a bill for a large caldron Gregorics had
bought the day before his death, but had not paid for.

Gaspar gave a long whistle.

"That caldron was not among the things we sold," he said. And he went
through the inventory again; but no, the caldron was not there.

"I am on the right road," thought Gaspar. "He did not buy the caldron
for nothing. Consequently, what did he buy it for? Why, to put something
in it of course, and that something is what we are looking for!"

Boldizsar was of the same opinion, and positively beamed with delight.

"It is God's finger," he said. "Now I believe we shall find the
treasure. Pal must have buried the caldron somewhere, thinking to do us
out of our rights; and he would have succeeded if he had not been so
stupid as not to pay for the caldron. But luckily in cases of this kind
the wrongdoer generally makes some stupid mistake."

The