contain the last will and testament of Simon
Tupper, father of Frederick Tupper."

"Gee!" exclaimed Tommy. "Can't he get the property until he gets
the will? Then we'll have to find it, I guess!"

"No, he can't get the property unless the will is found."

"Who stole the Little Brass God, and also the will?" asked George.

"Did he know he was stealing the will when he stole the Little
Brass God?" asked Sandy without giving Will an opportunity to reply
to the previous question. "How'd he know the will was there?"

"We don't know whether he knew about the will or not," answered the
boy. "In fact, we don't know whether the document is still in the
tummy of the Little Brass God. That's what we've got to find out."

"You didn't tell me who stole the Little Brass God and the will,"
insisted George.

"I said it was a burglar!"

"But was it a burglar--a real, genuine burglar?"

"Yes, loosen up!" shouted Tommy. "Did he go there just to burgle,
or did he go there to get that will?"

"That's another thing we've got to find out!" Will answered. "It's
just this way," the boy continued. "We've been sent up here to
find this Little Brass God. When we find it, we'll know whether
the man who stole it was a common thief, or whether he was sent by
interested parties to do the job. No living person can open the
Little Brass God without first learning the way to do it. In fact,
the only way the toy can be opened by one unfamiliar with the
secret is to break it open with an axe! And that would hardly be
done, as the little fellow is rather a cute plaything."

"And so, if the will is there, a burglar stole it. And if the will
is not there, some one interested in the disposition of the
property walked away with it! Is that it?"

"That's the way we figure it out!" Will answered. "And in the
meantime," he continued, "an older will is being offered for
probate. If the Little Brass God fails to disclose the last will,
the property will go to a young man who was intensely hated and
despised by the man who built up the fortune. Simon Tupper will
turn over in his grave if Howard Sigsbee, his nephew, has the
handling of that money."

"I can't see how that's going to get Simon anything!" grinned Tommy.

"Now," George asked, "why do they think the Little Brass God was
brought into the Hudson Bay country?"

"We have traced it to an antique shop on lower State street," Will
answered. "From there to the shabby parlor of