“No take this crate,” demanded Nat. “He’s only got one back paralyzed, I’ve got two arms broken!”
“Set them down, set them down,” answered the man. “What in the world—the birds! Well, so you found them?”
“So—we—did!” panted Ned, as he dropped the bag.
“And what’s this?” asked John, taking a look into the black muslin bundle. “The silver! Well now! Did you raid a pawn shop?”
“No, sir, we raided a hole in the hill,” replied Nat.
“And we pulled the hole in after us,” added Ned.
The man thought the boys only joking, but he promptly took up the crate with many kind “coos” to the birds, and proceeded with them to their quarters, telling the boys, as he went, that the “creatures” were both starved and choked, and that their wants should be attended to at once.
“Then it’s up to me to bag it again,” said Ned, “although I do think, Nat, you might shuffle for a new deal.”
When the recovered silver had been examined it was found that one article was missing—a piece of untold value to the White family. This was an old Indian drinking cup, that Professor White in his travels through India had acquired. It happened to be the last present Mrs. White’s husband and the boys’ father had sent home before his sudden death, and on account of this intimate association with her husband’s last days Mrs. White prized the old dark cup beyond estimate.
Nat and Ned hesitated to make the loss known to their mother and as a matter of fact she did not know of it until some time later. In the meantime they hurried to make all possible search and inquiries but without any satisfactory result. The old cup could not be found.