The picture was passed reverently around. A sweet-faced, sad little woman it showed, with appealing eyes and lips that seemed to quiver even in the photograph.
As Louise held it in her hand something induced her to turn it over.
"Here is some writing upon the back," she said.
Joe bent over and read it aloud. It was in his father's handwriting.
"'Press the spring in the left hand lower corner of the secret drawer.'"
"Hah!" cried Uncle John, while the others stared stupidly. "That's it!
That's the information we've been wanting so long, Joseph!"
He ran to the cupboard, even as he spoke, and while they all thronged about him thrust in his hand, felt for the spring, and pressed it.
The bottom of the drawer lifted, showing another cavity beneath. From this the searcher withdrew a long envelope, tied with red tape.
"At last, Joseph!" he shouted, triumphantly waving the envelope over his head. And then he read aloud the words docketed upon the outside: "'Warranty Deed and Conveyance from Charles Walton to Jonas Wegg and William Thompson.' Our troubles are over, my boy, for here is the key to your fortune."
"Also," whispered Louise to her cousins, rather disconsolately, "it explains the last shred of mystery about the Wegg case. Heigh-ho! what a chase we've had for nothing!"