“I have no idea what the envelope contains,” said Mr. Chester. “It was brought to me sealed as you see it.”
“Oh, don’t you see!” I cried, fairly jumping in my chair with excitement. “It’s not that kind of a key—not a for-sure key—it’s a key to the puzzle—a key to where the bonds and things are.”
“Well, we’ll soon see,” said mother, and tore open the envelope with trembling fingers. Mr. Chester, I think, had half a mind to stop her, but thought better of it and leaned back in his chair again.
I couldn’t wait—I was dying with impatience—and I skipped over to her side.
The only contents of the envelope was a little slip of paper.
“Why, it’s poetry!” I cried, as mother drew it out and unfolded it. And, indeed, there were four rhymed lines written upon it:
“The Rose of Sharon guards the place
Where the Treasure lies; so you must trace
Four to the right, diagonally three,
And you have solved the Mystery.”