"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.'" Rupert looked about him thoughtfully. "That's not the most helpful—"
"Rupert!" Ricky seized him by the arm. "There's only one thing in this room that will answer that. Can't you see? The niche of the Luck!"
Their gaze followed her pointing finger to the mantel above their heads.
"I believe she's right! Wait until I get the step-ladder from the kitchen." Rupert was gone almost before he had finished speaking.
"Oh, if it's only true!" Ricky stared up like one hypnotized. "Then we'll be rich and—"
"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched," Val reminded her, but he didn't think that she heard him.
Then Rupert was back with the ladder. He climbed up, leaving the three of them clustered about its foot.