share the fun of unearthing it; then concluded that, after all, it would be pleasanter to surprise her with it at the breakfast table. How we worked! We removed drawers, measured partitions, examined corners and peered into crevices. Our teeth chattered with the cold; our heads ached with the excitement. At dawn we crept back to bed with our spirits at zero.
At dinner the next evening we again discovered the sign in the carved legs of the old black walnut table at which we sat. Later, the sign appeared on chairs, bookcases, bureaus, and wardrobes. In fact, nearly every article of furniture in the house seemed to have been carved after the same pattern. We carefully examined each in turn, until we became convinced that no iron box could possibly be hidden within it.
Then we attacked the walls. Two rooms were newly papered, the design being trailing vines festooned in circles, one within the other. We examined every inch of those walls, first with a mallet to detect hollow places, then with a magnifying glass to bring to light otherwise invisible cracks.
After that up came the carpets, some of which were replete with that pattern which now recurred with sickening frequency. Under the carpets and on the board floors were circles painted in dual hues; black within white and red within yellow. We invested in a tool chest and took turns in sawing. We removed sections of the floors and poked long sticks between the joists, listening meanwhile for the sound of clanking iron. This we kept up for a week, then stopped to rest. Old Amanda, who had stayed with us for a song, cleared up the muss, smiling grimly.
The conviction was growing within us that there was method in Aunt Ellen's madness. She had gained one point,—she had made us work at last. Instead of devoting six hours a day to her music, Caroline now practised by fits and starts, and Ellen Ann read Greek only as a diversion. As for me, though my body sometimes lagged, my spirits never did.
The necessity for secrecy about the occupation in which we spent our days sometimes made it awkward for us when the young people of the neighborhood became over-curious. For that reason Mr. Otis, the young attorney who had found favor in Aunt Ellen's eyes, made an especially agreeable companion. For he was in the
