“What is in it?” asked the officer.
“We don’t know. We can’t open it!” was the discouraged reply.
“But there must be a key somewhere,” the sheriff said.
“There isn’t even a keyhole,” Don grinned. “It’s shut tight!”
“Well,” the officer went on, “Flint and Ike have confessed, and they will be hanged. That is what I came here to tell you. The body of the dead man will be buried near the old mine, if that is satisfactory to you all,” he continued. “He was a crook, too, wasn’t he?” he added.
“For years he was,” the banker replied, “but at last he came to his senses and offered to help me in restoring the dead man’s fortune to his nephews. He employed King—the man you made a deputy at my request—to assist in finding the boys, after Don took the handbag and got away. He came out here to help solve the mystery of the mine. He had the third paper at one time, but returned it to me.”
“David Durand found strange hiding-places for his money!” the sheriff mused. “Think of the bonds in the old house, and this box in the cave. I have been thinking of the queer old chap ever since Mr. King told me about him. It is a wonder the bonds were ever found—and the old wallet! What a place for property!”
“There’s a letter somewhere which explains everything!” Don insisted.
“It wasn’t in the wallet, was it?” asked King. Don shook his head, and Clay brought out the wallet to prove it.
“Here’s some banknotes,” he said. “They will have to be sent in for redemption, they’re so rotten, and this thin piece of steel. That’s all there is in here. Look and see for yourselves.”