"It's empty, you see, Joe," he said, turning it upside-down. "Look at it again, so as to make sure it's really the box."
"Oh! I'd know it anywhere, Paul," declared Joe, warmly; "and see, here's where father scratched his initials on it. I remember seeing him do that one day, while he was talking to me. Yes, this is the box. But where can the papers be?"
"In the pocket of that fellow, beyond a doubt. Who is he, Joe?"
When Paul put the question straight to him, Joe could hold out no longer. Besides, a wild hope had probably sprung up in his heart to the effect that this comrade, whom nothing seemed
to daunt, might perhaps be able in some wonderful way to help him get the papers back again.
"I just guess I'll have to speak up, fellows," he said; "but please don't say anything to the others 'less my dad tells you to. You see, we've always held our heads up in Stanhope, and some people might look down on us if they knew one of the Clausin family was a convict!"
"Oh! that is the man who was at the other side of the world. What relation is he to you, Joe, and where was he in prison?" asked Jack.
"He's my Uncle Henry," answered Joe, reluctantly, "a younger brother of my dad's. Last we heard from him he was nabbed away out in Australia, for doing some bank sneaking, I think. Anyhow, he was sent to prison. Father told us not to mention his name again; and we never have all the time we've lived in Stanhope."
"Oh! well," advised Paul, "I wouldn't feel so bad about it, Joe. I suppose he's changed his name now. So that if he gets into a scrape in this country nobody need know he belongs to the Clausin family. But Joe, how did he know about the value of the papers your father kept in that tin box?"
"Well, I can tell you that, Paul. I've often thought it over; and the only thing that strikes me is this. Uncle Henry, being in this country after escaping from prison, was coming to see his