“I guess those green checks are rather conspicuous,” murmured Hastings. “But how did you connect the purchaser with me?”
“Through the clerk at the hotel where you stopped for dinner, and the man you bought a new tire from,” Ben answered, and he told how he had found his way to the Gables.
“Pretty clever,” laughed Hastings. “But instead of finding out why I’d put those things in the chest you went hooked-rug hunting with me.”
“Well,” said Ben, “when we came back to your house I thought you must be Joseph Hastings, but I didn’t get any good opening to follow up the clue. And then there was all that excitement over the robbers. But when I saw you doing those moving-pictures I sized you up as a person who’d like to play a game of some sort on us.”
“I don’t know whether that’s a knock at me or not,” said Hastings. “But I do like to play games. And that’s why, when I learned that you’d found the chest, I thought it would be good fun to come over here as Sir Peter Cotterell, dress my guests in Revolutionary costumes, and take some moving-pictures on the island. Martin and I came over to see about it; that was the afternoon when you invited us to stay to supper and Martin sang his song.”
“It was a splendid idea,” said Tuckerman, “and you did it up brown.”
“Thank you.” Hastings bowed. “Such words from a descendant of Sir Peter are a compliment indeed. We learned that you were going over to the water sports at Camp Amoussock this morning, so we thought we’d have a clear field. We brought a flotilla of boats—they’re moored in the creek now—and a good supply of costumes, and cooks and food and the moving-picture camera. I had one of my men make up like a servant from the Barbadoes, stain his face and hands with mahogany juice; he’s the one who brought us the negus; though it isn’t really negus—it’s loganberry juice and soda-water—and I got Martin Locke to play the part of Sampson.” Hastings looked at Locke and laughed. “Though I don’t think Martin could possibly have carried that treasure chest all the way from here to the north shore.”
“You certainly do things up thoroughly,” said Mr. Hallett.
“But what made the party a real success,” said Hastings, “was what our friend Ben Sully did. First, the capture of the thieves, and second, the finding of the real Cotterell treasure. That’s a pretty fine showing for one day, Ben.”
“It was just luck I found that chest in the attic,” Ben answered. “I thought all along that the pines and the rocks mentioned in that notebook were actual outdoor pines and rocks, just as I suppose everybody’s thought who’s hunted for the treasure. I’ve been up in the attic a lot of times, and never particularly noticed the wallpaper—it’s pretty much faded and blurred, as you saw; but when I was taking this coat off one of the pegs this afternoon, I did happen to notice that there was a yellowish sun and some pines and rocks in the design on the wall. Then the idea struck me all at once. Mightn’t that be the place the words in the notebook meant? And the more I looked at that wallpaper the more I felt certain of it. I suppose Sir Peter told someone jokingly one day that the treasure was hidden beyond the three pines that stand between two rocks where the sun goes down, and that fooled the people who’ve looked for it ever since. He surely did like his joke.”