was set before them, and their host handed round the altar for
inspection. 'Pity there's no record on it to show to what God it was
dedicated,' said one, 'and by whom.'

'It probably belonged to some pioneers along the Wall who built
themselves a temporary camp whilst prospecting,' said Turnbull.

Telfer, on the other hand, was of opinion that the altar was not of the
local freestone, had probably been brought from a neighbouring camp, and
eventually thrown away when the Picts and Scots overran the Wall.

'If you'll show me the place where you found it,' he added, 'I can prove
to you, I think, that the surrounding stone is different.'

'My pioneers probably imported it,' said the other boldly, 'but the kind
of stone is neither here nor there. However, I'll gladly show you the
identical spot where I howked it out.'

While the rest of the party made their way down the valley towards the
railway station, 'Plain Tom' went off with his sceptic to the place of
excavation.

'There,' said he, pointing to the spot, 'that's where it came from,' and
as he spoke he turned over with his spade some debris that had fallen
into the hole. His companion took up a fragment of stone, examined it,
shook his head, then proceeded to 'howk' out with his stick a stone of
some size lying half-bedded in the earth at the bottom of the hole. He
levered it away, and it rolled over on its side; something glittered
beneath. 'Ha! an aureus!' cried the attorney, and dashed upon it.

'I told you so, I told you so,' shouted his host in triumphant joy.
'This proves it!'

His joy was perhaps excessive; it seemed to eclipse at least his
surprise, but his companion paid no attention to him in his own
excitement.

'Ha! an aureus of Hadrian--and in excellent preservation,' rejoined the
other, after a careful examination. 'What an uncommonly lucky find!' and
without more ado he slid it into the palm of his left hand.

'A find!' echoed 'Plain Tom,' choking upon astonishment and rage. 'Here,
hand it over--I'm owner here,' for his own particular pet coin was
disappearing from his ken.

'Even if you were the Lord of the Manor you could not make your claim
good,' replied the attorney coolly. 'He who finds, keeps. Treasure trove
to be claimed must be hidden--_lucri aut metus causa_. This aureus was
evidently lost or cast away in flight. The finder retains it.'

'Cast away in flight' sounded ludicrously enough in the other's ears,
but he was incapable of