antime, I'm going to look at the ruins
of the light-house. I discovered in an almanac I found in the hotel
last night, that the original light-house was erected on Greenberry
Point in 1818. This fact may help us a lot."

They went out to the extreme edge, and stood gazing across the shoals
toward the ruins.

"What do you make the distance from the land?" Croyden asked.

"About one hundred yards--but it's very difficult to estimate over
water. It may be two hundred for all I can tell."

"It is exactly three hundred and twenty-two feet from the Point to the
near side of the ruins," said Croyden.

"Why not three hundred and twenty-two and a half feet!" scoffed
Macloud.

"I measured it this morning while you were dawdling over your
breakfast," answered Croyden.

"Hitched a line to the land and waded out, I suppose."

"Not exactly; I measured it on the Government map of the Harbor. It
gives the distance as three hundred and twenty-two feet, in plain
figures."

"I said you had a great head!" Macloud exclaimed. "Now, what's the rest
of the figures--or haven't you worked it out?"

Croyden drew out a paper. "The calculation is of value only on the
assumption--which, however, is altogether reasonable--that the
light-house, when erected, stood on the tip of the Point. It is now
three hundred and twenty-two feet in water. Therefore, dividing
ninety-two--the number of years since erection--into three hundred and
twenty-two, gives the average yearly encroachment of the Bay as three
and a half feet. Parmenter buried the casket in 1720, just a hundred
and ninety years ago; so, multiplying a hundred and ninety by three and
a half feet gives six hundred and sixty-five feet. In other words, the
Point, in 1720, projected six hundred and sixty-five feet further out
in the Bay than it does to-day."

"Then, with the point moved in six hundred and sixty-five feet
Parmenter's beeches should be only eighty-five feet from the shore
line, instead of seven hundred and fifty!" Macloud reflected.

"Just so!" said Croyden.

"But where are the beeches?" asked Axtell.

"Disappeared!" Croyden replied. "As the Point from year to year slipped
into the Bay, the fierce gales, which sweep up the Chesapeake,
gradually ate into the timber. It is seventy years, at least, since
Parmenter's beeches went down."

"Why shouldn't the Duvals have noticed the encroachment of the Bay, and
made a note of it on the letter?" Macloud asked.

"Probably,