The moon rose clear and full above the distant horizon. It seemed to ask silently the same question. A dog from a farm-house up the road split the air with its hoarse bark of wonder. Stephen placed his hand to his forehead in an abstracted manner. Then he glanced at the box, and the papers lying therein arrested his attention. He reached down and took them in his hand. They were tied with an old piece of tarred twine, and were much blackened and soiled. Drawing forth the first and holding it close to the lantern, Stephen read the brief words recorded there. It took him but a minute to do this, and then followed an exclamation which gave Tony a distinct start.
"What is it, Steve?" he asked. "What hev ye found?"
"Read this, and judge for yourself," Stephen replied, thrusting the paper into his companion's hands.
As Tony spelled out the words his eyes bulged with astonishment.
"Oh, Steve!" he gasped, "I'm so glad it isn't the parson. But do ye think this is all right?"
"It. looks like it. See the date, November 10th of last year. And notice, too, these words 'for safe keeping' and 'until called for.' Why, it's as plain as day. Then, here's the amount, 'five thousand dollars, all in gold, to be left in the iron box marked with a cross in white paint.'"
"Say, Tony," Stephen asked, "did Billy have such a box, another one like this?"
"Why, yes, I do remember one very well. It was smaller than this; 'twas stouter an' had a lock an' key. He kept some papers an' loose change in it. It allus sot on the old mantel-piece over the fire-place."
"Tony!" said Stephen, looking hard at the paper, "if that box of gold is there yet, and that man has been silent and let another take the blame, it's the smallest, vilest piece of work of which I ever heard."
"Sure 'tis, an' I say let's go an' ax 'im 'bout it."