Hey,
Donald?"
"Don't ask me, Ad. Ask Billie."
"I am sure we could do no better," was Billie's gallant reply.
Lucia's suggestion was carried out and for a couple of hours
there was a merry little party under Santiago's hospitable roof.
Even the mysterious box was forgotten and the young people were
giving themselves up to a jolly good time, when suddenly there
came a scream which caused every one to turn their eyes toward
the room in which the sick man was supposed to be lying.
But there in the doorway he stood, his long night robe reaching
nearly to the floor and his thin black hair standing almost on
end.
"Father!" cried Lucia, rushing toward him "What is it?"
He waved her off, but made no reply, while with his long bony
finger he pointed at the brass-bound box.
"Where did it come from?" he asked in a shrill, querulous tone.
"Who brought back my secret casket?"
"Yours?" came from every one in the room.
"Yes! Mine! Mine!!" he almost screamed.
"He's raving!" cried Josie. "Can't some one do something for
him?"
"No," he replied, and his voice became more calm, "I am not
raving. I know whereof I speak. Quick! Let me look within it to
see that all is safe."
"It is locked, Father," said Lucia, coming to his side, "and we
have no key.
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