ad of his brother's help in lifting and pulling.

"Better not try to take this bedstead and stuff out," Rupert advised
when they had the three boxes out in the hall. "We have no need for it
now, anyway."

"I believe--yes, it is! A real Sergnoret piece!" Charity was
industriously rubbing away at the head of the bed. Rupert knelt down
beside her.

"And just what is a Sergnoret piece?"

"A collector's item nowadays. Francois Sergnoret was one of the greatest
cabinet-makers of New Orleans. See that 'S'--that's the way he always
signed his work."

"Treasure trove!" cried Ricky. "I wonder how much it's worth?"

"Exactly nothing to us." Rupert was running his hands across the
mahogany. "We couldn't sell anything from this house until the title is
cleared."

As Val moved around to the opposite side to see better, his foot struck
against something on the floor. He stooped and picked up a box with a
slanting cover, the whole black and smooth with age and the rubbing of
countless hands.

"What's this?" He had crossed to the door and was examining his find in
the light.

Rupert's hand fell upon his shoulder. "Val, be careful of that. Charity,
he's got something here!" He pulled her up beside him, not noting in his
excitement that he had broken out of the formal shell which seemed to
wall him in whenever she was around.

"A Bible box! And an authentic one, too!" She drew her fingers down the
slope of the lid.

"And just what is it?" Val asked for the second time.

"These boxes were used in the seventeenth century for writing-desks and
later to keep the large family Bibles in. But this is the first one I've
ever seen outside of a museum. What's this on the lid?" She traced a
worn outline. Val studied the design.

"Why, it's Joe! You know, that grinning skull we have stuck up all over
the place to bolster up our superiority complex. That proves that this
is ours, all right."

"Perhaps--" Ricky's eyes were round with excitement, "perhaps it
belonged to Pirate Dick himself!"

"Perhaps it did," her younger brother agreed.

"Lift the lid." She was almost hopping on one foot in her impatience.
"Let's see what's inside."

"No gold or jewels, I'll wager. How do you get the thing undone?"

"Here, let me try." Rupert took it from Val's hands and put it down on
one of the chests, squatting on the floor before it. With the smallest
blade of his penknife he delicately probed the fastening sunken in the
wood.

"I could d