"I'll say a bag of money!" cried Brian.
"I'll say old clothes!" shouted Guy. "What d'you say, Elsie?"
"A pony—no, I mean bank-notes," was the prompt reply, received with a fresh outburst of merriment.
"Well, come along," said Mr. Ormond, rising from the table. "Come along, and we'll see which of you has guessed nearest the truth."
The children all sprang from their chairs.
"A procession! a procession!" cried Ida. And one was immediately formed. Mr. Ormond went first, carrying the lamp; Guy followed, beating a tray to represent a drum; Ida, Elsie, and Brian improvised musical instruments out of the fire-irons, and Mrs. Ormond brought up the rear.
"Now," said Mr. Ormond, when the library was reached and the band ceased its triumphal march, "suppose you strong young men lift the box out into the middle of the room, and then we'll commence operations."
Guy and Brian soon had the chest in the position indicated; the lamp was put close by on an adjoining table, and boys and girls gathered round, one and all on the tip-toe of eager expectation.
"The first thing will be to get these seals off the padlocks," said Mr. Ormond. "Now, how are we going to do that? Old Uncle Roger certainly wasn't sparing of his wax."
"I've got an old chisel that'll do it!" cried Brian. "I'll fetch it, if you'll wait half a minute."