Laughingly, he received it and struck:
“The fatal blow! Be kind, oh! fate! to a frightened meddler in this mystery!”
The wooden box did fall apart, almost at that first stroke of the tiny hammer. It was extremely old and much decayed by its long burial in the ground, and had been held together only by the metallic bands which Dorothy’s paperknife struck when she was digging among the ferns.
But there was a box within a box! The second one of brass and fastened by a hasp. A feeling of intense awe fell on all the company. This did look as if there had certainly been buried something of great value, and the impression was deepened when Corny lifted the inner receptacle with reverence, remarking:
“It’s very light—not very large—it might contain precious stones—diamonds, do you think? I declare, I’d rather somebody else would do it. You, Colonel, please.”
“No, no. Ah! hum. I’ve something far more precious ’an any diamond in my arms this minute. I don’t give that up for any old box!” and so declining he rubbed his face against Eunice’s soft cheek and laughed when she protested against its roughness.
Every head was bent to see and all were urging haste, so that no further time was wasted. Undoing the fastening and lifting the lid of this inner “shrine” there lay revealed—What?
Nobody comprehended just what until the man held up the half-bright, half-tarnished metal image of a “Fool’s Head,” as pictured in old prints.
Then the laughter burst forth at this ancient jest coming home so aptly to the modern jester who had unearthed it.
“Maybe there’s something inside! Maybe that’s only an odd-shaped box to deceive folks. Maybe—do, do, look inside!”