“Doesn’t that feel like stocks and bonds?” I asked.
“It certainly feels like something,” he admitted. “Well, we’ll soon find out,” and he turned his whole attention to encouraging the astonished Susan.
I dare say that that old horse, in all her eighteen years, had never covered that road so swiftly; but the two miles seemed like ten to me, and I think the most welcome sight I ever saw in my life was the scattered group of houses which marks the centre of the little village. We dashed down the street with a clatter that brought the people to their windows, and stopped at last at the little frame building which served the notary for an office.
I jumped out, and without waiting for Tom, ran up the little flight of steps to the door, with the quilt flapping wildly about me. And just as I laid my hand upon the knob, the door opened from within, and Silas Tunstall stood looking down at me, his face lighted by a smile of triumph.
“Well, what’s the matter, young one?” he asked.
“I want to see Mr. Chester,” I gasped; “right away.”
“Mr. Chester? Well, he’s in there; go on in.”
He went on down the steps, but looked at the quilt in my arms with a little start as I passed him, hesitated a moment, and then came back and stood in the doorway.
But I had burst into the room as though hurled from a catapult. I saw a group about the table.
“Oh, Mr. Chester!” I cried. “I’ve found it—the treasure!”