When the box was opened and the paper spread out, it was found to hold only a map of the old shack by the mine. Under the location of the window in the sitting room where Trumbull had been shot to death, the paper showed a black mark—a great cross, evidently made to imitate the rocky formation above the cave where the paper had been discovered.
“So it wasn’t a treasure you found in the mine,” laughed Frost, looking at the map, “it was only a clue!”
Clay insisted that the boat be put back to the mine landing, and again they all made the long climb to the old house. There was no mark of any description under the window designated by the map, but Alex found a hatchet and went at the ceiling with which the room was lined.
In a moment he came to a metal surface off which the hatchet slipped.
“Work around it! Dig it out! It is a treasure chest!”
Don laughed as he spoke, for, to tell the truth, he had no idea that anything more of great value would be found. His idea was that the bonds already found had constituted the greater part of his uncle’s wealth.
Directly a steel box which weighed at least fifty pounds was brought out. The cover was on tight, and there was no key. In fact, it did not seem possible to get the box open without having it cut with tools secured for that special purpose.
Frost looked at the box closely and smiled as he noted how neatly the lock was concealed—even the keyhole, if one there was, being out of sight. The box was carried aboard the Rambler, with great difficulty, and then a start for the old landing was made.
The surprise of the day was when the mysterious box was opened!