tly. "Now, needn't all
get busy looking, because I reckon it's the only coin there is. That's
my reward for keeping everlastingly at it. You fellows are ready to give
up too easy. Say, did you ever see a brighter half dollar than that?
Looks like she just came from the mint, hey?"

"Perhaps it did!" said Phil, solemnly.

When he said that the others all focussed their eyes on Phil's face.
They knew he would not have spoken in such a strain unless he had some
good reason for saying what he did.

"Explain what you mean, please, Phil; that's a good fellow," urged Lub.

X-Ray was not so dense, for he instantly exclaimed.

"Why, don't you see, Phil reckons that this half-dollar may have been
coined right here in this birch bark cabin!"

"Whew! counterfeit, is it?" gasped Ethan, whose breath had almost been
taken away with the momentous discovery. "Then I guess I ain't going to
bother getting down on my knees, and doing any hunting for bogus money."

The finder apparently did not much fancy having his prize counted so
meanly. He immediately proceeded to bite the coin, and then started to
ringing it on the hard surface of the oak table that had all the
scorched spots on it, mentioned by Phil.

"It _tastes_ good; and listen to the sweet ring, would you, fellows?"
X-Ray hastened to say. "If it's a punk fifty-center, then it's the
greatest imitation ever was. I'd just like to have a cartload of the
same; I think I'd call myself rich."

"If there's any suspicion fixed on the coin," Lub observed, ponderously,
just as he had heard his father, the judge, deliver an opinion in court,
"I'd rather be excused from carrying it around on _my_ person. The law,
you know, does not look upon ignorance as innocence. Better toss that
thing as far away as you can in the morning, X-Ray. I'd hate to think of
you doing time for having it in your possession."

"Hanged if I do," muttered the other. "I'm all worked up now over it,
and mean to get the opinion of Mr. Budge, the cashier of our bank. He
can smell a counterfeit as soon as he sets eyes on one. He'll fix all
that up, believe me."

"But, Phil," Ethan remarked, just then, "what was that you were saying
about all the scorched places on the table? If these people were not
molding bullets they may have been using melted metal for another
purpose, and one not quite so lawful, eh?"

"It looks a little that way, I must say," Phil admitted.

"Give us something to do prying around while