was a curious medley of articles such as might have
been gathered at various times by a sailor who was familiar with all
the ports of the world. Mingled in with old trousers and boots and
caps, were curiously tinted shells, clasp knives with broken blades,
grotesque images of heathen gods, a tarantula and a centipede preserved
in a small jar of alcohol, miraculously saved from breakage.

But what especially attracted their attention in the midst of this
miscellaneous riffraff was a small cedar box, about eight inches long
by six inches wide and deep. It was heavily carved, and was secured by
a lock of unusual size and strength.

"Wonder if this is the thing that was worth more'n diamonds," grunted
Tyke, with a carelessness that was too elaborate not to be assumed.

"It must be that, if anything," replied Captain Hamilton, who had let
his cigar go out and was now vigorously chewing the stub.

Drew said nothing, but his cheeks were flushed and his eyes brighter
than usual.

Grimshaw fumbled with the lock for a moment, but found it immovable.

"Jest step out, Allen, and get all the keys we have an' we'll see if
any of 'em fit," he directed.

Drew did so, and returned in a moment with the entire collection that
the shop boasted. Tyke tried them all in turn, but none fitted.

"I guess there's no help for it," he said at last. "I hate to spoil
the box, but we'll have to force the lock. Get a chisel, and we'll pry
the thing open."

The chisel was brought and did its work promptly. There was a rasping,
groaning sound, as if the box were complaining at this rude assault
upon its privacy, then, with a hand that trembled a little, Tyke lifted
the cover.

All three heads were close together as the men bent over and peered in.
Their first glimpse brought a sense of disappointment. They had half
expected to catch the sheen of gold or the glitter of jewels. Instead
they saw only a piece of oilskin that was carefully wrapped about what
proved to be some sheets of paper almost as stiff as parchment.

"Huh," grunted Tyke. "Pesky lot of trouble with mighty little result.
I told you I thought Manuel was a bit touched in the brain, an' I guess
I was right."

"Wait a minute," said Captain Hamilton. "Don't go off at half-cock.
Let's see what's in that oil-skin."

Tyke opened the packet. The others drew up their chairs, one on either
side, as he unfolded the oilskin carefully on his desk.

There were two sheets of p