“Can’t be a doubt of it. I’ve seen it pictured many times, even in colors. The radicals got it, when the Revolution came. And now, here it is!”
“Why?” It was Johnny who asked. He asked for all. He may as well have asked for the whole world. The question will perhaps never be answered. The two men who might have answered it were dead. Their funeral pyre had but a few hours before loomed toward the sky. A thousand questions might be asked about this strange pair, but none answered. The priceless crown alone remained. And that, since it had been smuggled into the country, must be turned over to the Canadian Government.
“Do you know, Sandy,” Johnny said as they sat by the fire an hour later, “I slept in the strangest place last night. It was a cave; perhaps you might only call it a rocky cavern.”
“What’s strange about that?” Sandy rumbled sleepily.
“It was all alight and yet there was no lamp. And it was night.”
“Light?” Sandy sprang to his feet.
“The walls appeared to be phosphorescent.”
“And was it warm, too?” The old man’s tone was eager.
“Yes. I believe it was.”
“Man!” cried Sandy, seizing his hand and gripping it till it hurt. “You’ve made the find of a lifetime!”