Newark evening star and Newark advertiser., 1910-08-04
tcontinuea from Yesterday,


The sight OF 1t might well have
caused establishment or alarm In the
girls mind. But 1t was neither alarm
nor astonishment that her next act
expressed. She dropped down on her
knees beside the rude wooden bunk.
drew the chest UP close In the tight
embrace OF her young arms. laid her
cheek against the cold, polished sur
face OF its blackened wood, and cried.
Every question that might have asked
ftself-how the thing could have come
there, and what its coming might por-
tend to herself or to the others Of tho
Aurora's people-was swept away In a
sudden rush OF flial affection and re-
gret which the sight Of 1t instantly
awoke. It had reached her with that
sudden poignant stab of memory which
inanimate objects, familiar by long as
sociation. seem to be more potent to
call up than the very persons of the
friends with whom they are associated.
The sight Of her father himself could
hardly have had so instantaneous and
overwhelming an effect upon her as the
sight OF this old chest, which was one
of the earliest Of her associations with
him.
It had always stood. until he had
taken 1t with him on that last voyage
of his, upon a certain farther corner of
his desk in the old library. It was one
Of those objects OF a class that children
always love-smooth, polished, beauti-
ful; beautiful, and, at the same time,
defying curiosity.
1t was quite a masterpiece OF cabinet
work. No hinges were visible. and the
cover fitted so closely upon the box It.
self that the line which separaed them
was hard to discover And there vas
no trace Of keyhole or lock- To II
urinitiated into its secret, 1t de-
every attempt TO open 1t.
Somewhere In her mind now, in
comparatively quiet eddy, sheltered
from the torrent OF memory that was
sweeping through it, was a half-amused
recollection of what had been. for a
long time, her chief ground OF superior
ity over Tom Fanshaw. Her father
had taught her the secret of the box.
IL Tom would turn his back and shut
his eyes, she could open it for, him in
moment But the boy, with all his In
eenuity, never was able to solve the
secret for himself. He had spent whole
days over it-long, precious holidays
but always In vain.
She remembered, too, the day when
her father had shown her the mystery,
had done It by way OF consolation for
some terrible childish disappointment
she had sustained. He had opened II
for her. and then had sat watching her
efforts to repeat the operation; correct
ing her mistakes, pointing with long,
bronze letter-opener, but never touch
ing the box itself, nor her own clumsy
fingers.
He never had exacted a promise from
her that she should guard this mystery;
had never even instructed her that she
was not to tell. But she remembered.
and at the memory she kissed the un-
responsive surface of the cover with her
cold lips-remembered just the half
grave. half-amused tone in which he
had said, There is a secret. Jeanne,
that we have from all the world-you
and l."
Presently she seated herself on the
bunk. took the little chest on her knees
and set about opening 1t. Between the
cold and her excitement she found this
rather a difficult thing to do, though her
mind never, never hesitated over the
slightest detail of the necessary
formula of procedure. She knew
in Just what order you pressed
in those innocent-looking little orna-
mental tacks in the brass binding; re-
membered the right moment to turn
the box up on it's end to let the just
released steel ball roll down its chan
mel to the pocket. where 1t must lie
before the last pressure upon the last
spring would prove effective. She no
more faltered over it than she would
have faitered over her alphabet.
And at last. when her nunbed
fingers had completed their task, the
counter weighted lid rose slowly by it.
self, Just as it had used to, and re-
vealed to her swimming eyes the con-
tents OF the interior.