am. What's the next direction?"

India giggled. She was Irish enough to get the humorous side of things
and could not help being frivolous even when she was greatly interested.
"Now you look over your left shoulder at the moon and wish."

Her brother's high voice cut in. "I say. My foot's kicking something.
Wait a jiff."

He braced his feet, dived suddenly down with one arm till his face
touched the water, and grappled with his fingers for a hold on something
lying between two rocks at the bottom. When he straightened again it was
with an effort. He did not attempt to raise his burden from the stream,
but waded ashore with it. Using both hands, he dragged his find to land.

"It's a sack," India cried excitedly.

The captain's eyes met those of Moya. His face was grave, but she was
white to the lips. Both of them felt sure of what they would find in the
sack.

"Open it," she told him tensely.

With his pocketknife Kilmeny cut the string that tied the sack. He drew
out a heavy valise so full that it gaped. Silver and gold coins, as well
as bills, filled it to the mouth. They had found the money stolen from
the treasurer of the Gunnison County Fair association.

All three of them were sick at heart. Jack Kilmeny then was guilty,
after all. The message in the hat had not been intended for them, but
had been merely a note of identification of the spot. He had taken the
captain's hat merely because he did not want the officers to find the
directions under the sweat pad. He had in essence lied to Moya and to
the cousins who had offered to stand shoulder to shoulder with him in
his trouble.

To Moya the next hour was a nightmare. They returned to the Lodge and
slipped into the house by way of a French window opening upon the
deserted north porch. Kilmeny hid the sack of treasure in his trunk and
divested himself of his fishing clothes. Presently he joined Moya and
his sister on the front porch, where shortly they were discovered by
Verinder in search of a fourth at bridge.

India, knowing how greatly her friend was shaken, volunteered to fill
the table and maneuvered Verinder back into the living-room with her.
The millionaire had vaguely the sense of a conspiracy against him and
resented it, even though of late he had been veering from Moya to Joyce
in his attentions.

Captain Kilmeny, left alone with the girl of his dreams, wisely said
nothing. He was himself indignant, his family pride stung to the quick.
His c