back in half an hour; and
his aunt and cousins sat down to tea.

"I hope father won't be later than seven," said Guy, glancing at the
clock on the mantelpiece. "I want to know what's in that chest."

"Brian's been longer than he said," he remarked when, at the end of the
meal, he pushed back his chair and rose from the table. "I expect he
hasn't been able to find the old woman's house, or perhaps his tyre's
punctured. Hullo! There's father!"

The boy's quick ears had caught the rattle of a latch-key, and immediately
there was a rush into the hall. Mr. Ormond entered with the collar of his
greatcoat turned up.

"Phew! it's cold," he said. "Hullo! What's the matter now?" Guy and Ida
were both speaking at once.

"Father, did you put anything in Uncle Roger's box? It isn't empty now;
there's something inside!"

"What d'you mean? I don't understand."

Hurriedly Ida gave the necessary explanation.

"I never put anything into the chest," said Mr. Ormond, with a puzzled
look. "I locked it up, and told Henry to carry it into the tool-house."

"Well, there's something in it now!" cried Guy. "Father, lend us your
keys, and let us go out and open it at once."

"Oh, nonsense!" was the answer. "Wait until Monday."

"We've been waiting all the afternoon," pleaded Ida. "Do let us have the
keys!"

"Very well," laughed her father, producing a bunch from his pocket.
"These are the ones. If you take a light out, don't set the place on
fire."

"Won't you leave it till Brian comes back?" suggested Elsie; but her
brother and sister had already started off in the direction of the yard
door.

Elsie had shuddered at the very thought of going near that tool-house in
the dark; but, ghost or no ghost, she meant to see that box opened. As
the saying goes, she took her courage in both hands, and ran quickly
after Guy and Ida.

CHAPTER XI.

UNCLE ROGER'S LEGACY.

Her brother and sister were already in the tool-house when Elsie arrived
at the door. She so far conquered her fears as to enter, but could not
help one timid glance round, as though she might once more be confronted
with the ghost of William Cole. Dead or alive, however, there was no
sign of the gardener, and nothing more terrible to be seen than her old
friend the grindstone.

[Illustration]

Guy carried a candle which he had procured from the kitchen, and which
guttered and smoked in the draught.

"Do be careful with that light," said Ida. "You'll burn