ften
told it to him. As he continued, Mr. Chillingsworth's interest changed
into an appearance of stronger and stronger excitement. Suddenly he
jumped up out of his chair and began to walk up and down the room.

[Illustration]

"Stop! stop!" he cried out at last, in the midst of something Tom was
saying. "Stop! stop! Tell me; do you know the name of the vessel that
was wrecked, and from which you were washed ashore?"

"I've heard it said," said Tom Chist, "'twas the _Bristol Merchant_."

"I knew it! I knew it!" exclaimed the great man, in a loud voice,
flinging his hands up into the air. "I felt it was so the moment you
began the story. But tell me this, was there nothing found with you
with a mark or a name upon it?"

"There was a kerchief," said Tom, "marked with a T and a C."

"Theodosia Chillingsworth!" cried out the merchant. "I knew it! I knew
it! Heavens! to think of anything so wonderful happening as this! Boy!
boy! dost thou know who thou art? Thou art my own brother's son. His
name was Oliver Chillingsworth, and he was my partner in business, and
thou art his son." Then he ran out into the entryway, shouting and
calling for his wife and daughter to come.

* * * * *

So Tom Chist--or Thomas Chillingsworth, as he now was to be
called--did stay to supper, after all.

* * * * *

This is the story, and I hope you may like it. For Tom Chist became
rich and great, as was to be supposed, and he married his pretty
cousin Theodosia (who had been named for his own mother, drowned in
the _Bristol Merchant_).

He did not forget his friends, but had Parson Jones brought to New
York to live.

As to Molly and Matt Abrahamson, they both enjoyed a pension of ten
pounds a year for as long as they lived; for now that all was well
with him, Tom bore no grudge against the old fisherman for all the
drubbings he had suffered.

The treasure box was brought on to New York, and if Tom Chist did not
get all the money there was in it (as Parson Jones had opined he
would) he got at least a good big lump of it.

And it is my belief that those log books did more to get Captain Kidd
arrested in Boston town and hanged in London than anything else that
was brought up against him.

[Illustration]

Chapter V

JACK BALLISTER'S FORTUNES

I

We, of these times, protected as we are by the laws and by the number
of people about us, can hardly comprehend su