n was a stranger to
me."

"I never saw him before, father?"

"Humph!" ejaculated the Colonel, turning to the Major, "I'm glad I
brought you out to have a look. Pretty good proof that someone believes
the old mine to be valuable, eh?"

"Yes, or a trick to make it seem so."

"Pooh! Impossible! It might be if someone wanted to sell the mine; but
it is not for sale, and not likely to be. So you found him measuring--
sounding, I suppose you mean?"

"Yes, sir," said Joe. "Here's the line, and it seems to have knots in
it to show the depth."

For the boy was busily reeling up the loose cord, and walking back
toward where the leaden weight had twined it round the piece of granite.

Joe set this free, and it proved to be a regular fishing sinker.

"But what did the fellow say to give you an excuse for attacking him as
you did?"

"Said he was fishing, father," replied Gwyn; "but that was only his
insolence."

"Might have been stupid enough to think he could fish there," said the
Major.

"No; he meant to find out something about the place. It is being talked
about the--"

"Yes, a good deal," said the Major, significantly. "Well, as you have
brought me here to see it, you may as well show me the hole."

By this time the line was all wound up, and the Colonel led the way back
to the mine, where, just as they reached the rough stone-wall, Gwyn ran
forward and picked up a common memorandum book, which had fallen, to lie
half-hidden amongst the heath.

A roughly pointed lead pencil was between the leaves, which opened to
show that the owner had been making notes; but that he was not
accustomed to the work was evident from the spelling, the first entry
reading as follows:--

"_Dounter warter 30 fathom_."

The second,--

"_Dounter botm 49 fathom an narf_."

The third entry was,--

"_Lot warter in thole as mus be pumpt out_."

Then came a series of hieroglyphics which puzzled Gwyn; and, after a
long trial, he handed the book to his father, who looked at it for some
time, and then shook his head, as he passed it to the Major.

"I'm not scholar enough for this, Jollivet," he said. "Will you have a
try?"

"No; I haven't brought my glasses. Here, Joe, what does this say?"

Joe, who had been all eagerness to begin, caught at the book, and tried
to decipher the roughly-written words, but got on no better than the
rest.

"Let me try again," cried Gwyn.

"No, no; I haven't done yet," said Joe; "but it