With his heart beating very fast Fred tip-toed toward the front until he could look through the open door into the small room where the large oaken chest stood.
By this time the moon was so high that he could see the interior with more distinctness than before.
All was still and deserted; both the men were gone.
"That's queer," muttered the puzzled lad; "if the tramp slipped away, the other man that I met on the road ought to have found it out; but what's become of him?"
Running his hand deep down among the treasures in his trousers pocket, Fred fished out a lucifer match, which he drew on the wall, and, as the tiny twist of flame expanded, he touched it to the wick of the candle that he held above his head.
The sight which met his gaze was a curious one indeed, and held him almost breathless for the time.
The lid of the huge chest was thrown back against the wall, and all that was within it were rumpled sheets of old brown paper, which had no doubt been used as wrappings for the pieces of the silver tea-service.
On the floor beside the chest was a large pocket-book, wrong side out. This, doubtless, had once held the money belonging to the old ladies, but it held it no longer.
Money and silverware were gone!