the fir trees and the oak’!” exclaimed Bob. “Great, isn’t it! And here for thirty-five years we Cromarty dubs have thought that meant real trees! To think it took a Yankee to tell us! Oh, Patty, Patty, we’ll take down that historic painting and put up a tablet to the honour of Saint Patricia. For you surely deserve canonisation!”
“‘Between the bedhead and the wall,’” ruminated Sinclair. “Well, here goes for finding an opening.”
Clambering up on stools, both boys examined the place where the mantel shelf touched the wall. The ornate carvings of the mantel left many interstices where coins or notes might be dropped through, yet they were by no means conspicuous enough to attract the attention of any one not looking for them.
“Crickets!” cried Bob. “There’s a jolly place for the precious poke to be located. I’m going down cellar to see if I can find traces of that mason’s work. Come on, Clair.”
The two boys flew off, and the ladies remained discussing the wonderful discovery, and examining the old chimney-piece.
“I can see it was a bedhead now,” said Mabel; “but I never suspected it before. What a splendid mantel it makes. Didn’t you ever hear its history, Grandy?”
“No, dear. It must have been put there when the house was built, I think. Though, of course, it may have been added later. But it was all before my time. I married your grandfather Cromarty and came here to live in 1855. The building and decorations then were all just as they are now, except for such additions as Marmaduke made. He may have had that mantel set up in earlier years—I don’t know. He was very fond of antique carvings.”
Back came the boys from the cellar.
“The whole chimney is bricked up,” Sinclair explained. “We couldn’t get into it without tearing it all down. And do you know what I think, Grandy? I think it would be wiser to take away the chimney-piece up here, and do our investigating from this end. Then, if we find anything, it will all be in this room, and not in the cellar, where the servants can pry about.”
“I quite agree with you,” said Mrs. Cromarty, “and I put the whole matter in your hands. You and Robert are the sons of the house, and it is your right to manage its affairs.”
“Then I say, tear it down at once,” cried Bob. “We needn’t damage the carving itself, and all that we break away of plaster or inner woodwork can easily be repaired, whatever our success may be.”
“Shall we begin now?” asked Sinclair, doubtfully. He was not so impetuous as Bob, and would have been quite willing to study over the matter first.
“Yes, indeed!” cried his impatient brother. “I’m not going to waste a minute. I’m glad I’m a bit of a carpenter. Though not an expert, I can tear down if I can’t build up.”
“But we must take it down carefully,” said Sinclair. “These screws must come out first.” But Bob had already gone for tools, and soon returned with screw-drivers, chisels, gimlets, and all the paraphernalia of a carpenter’s well-appointed tool-chest.
“Here goes!” he cried, as he put the big screw-driver in the first screw. “Good luck to the Cromartys and three cheers for Uncle Marmaduke and Patty Fairfield!”
Chapter XIX.
The Discovery
The removal of the old chimney-piece was not an easy task. If the Hartley boys hadn’t been big and strongly-built, they could scarcely have succeeded in tearing away the woodwork from the wall. But they did do it, and their labours were rewarded by the discovery of the long-lost fortune!
Sure enough the historic “poke” was a pocket or recess between the old bedhead and the main wall. It was really built in the chimney itself, though not in the flue. But this chimney-place, with its wonderfully carved mantel, was never used for fires, and the fortune had remained undisturbed in its hiding-place.
As the boys lifted away the portion of the heavy oak that covered the secret pocket, a rough wall of plaster was seen, and by tapping on it, Sinclair learned that it was hollow.
“Shall we break through?” he said. “I feel sure the money is there.”
“Break through, of course,” cried Bob; “but wait a moment till I lock the doors. This is no time for intruders.”
Bob fastened the doors, and then with a hatchet they broke through the plaster.
And even as the old mortar crumbled beneath their blows, out fell a shower of glittering gold coins and tightly folded banknotes!
The sight was too much for the strained nerves of the watchers. Mabel burst into tears, and Mrs. Cromarty trembled like a leaf.
The boys broke into shouts of joy, and Patty scarcely knew whether to laugh or cry. But in a moment they were all congratulating each other and showering praises on Patty for her cleverness in the matter.
“It’s ours! It’s ours!” cried Bob. “It’s Grandy’s, to be sure, but it belongs to old Cromarty Manor, and we’re all Cromartys. Patty, you’re hereby adopted and made one of us.”
“What shall we do with it?” asked the more practical Sinclair. “I mean, just at present. We must take care of it, at once, you know. We can’t leave it long like this.”
“There’s the old Spanish chest,” said Mrs. Hartley, indicating a good-sized affair that stood nearby. “Put it in that.”
“Just the thing,” said Bob. “Lend a hand, Clair.”
It was a strange proceeding. The old coins, many of them still bright, though of far back dates; represented a great deal of money. How much, they could not guess as yet, but it was surely a large sum. Also there were Bank of England notes, folded small that they might be pushed through the openings in the carved oak, and well-preserved, as the pocket had been carefully made damp-proof.
The boys took the money out in double handfuls and deposited it in the old Spanish chest.
“It will be quite safe there until to-morrow,” said Mrs. Hartley, “and then we must get it to the bank. But as no one yet knows of our discovery, there can be no danger of its being stolen to-night.”
“What ever made Uncle Marmaduke choose this way of concealing his fortune?” asked Bob, as he kept on transferring the money from its hiding-place to the chest.
“He had a fear of banks or investments,” said Mrs. Cromarty. “I’ve often heard him say he wouldn’t trust any of them. He said he’d rather be sure of his principal, and go without his interest.”
“Crickets!” said Bob, “if all this had been out at interest for forty years, think how it would have increased!”
“Yes,” said his mother, “but in that case it would not have been hidden, and before now, it might have all been spent.”
“Then I’m glad the old gentleman chose this way of banking. And I suppose he meant to leave full instructions where to find it.”
“Well,” said Sinclair, “we found it without his instructions, thanks to our Patty.”
And then they all began again to bless and praise Patty, until she was really embarrassed at their overwhelming gratitude.
“We’d offer you a share,” said Bob, gaily, “but you already have more than you know what to do with.”
“Perhaps not quite that,” said Patty, smiling, “but I have enough. And, oh! I am so glad that you have your own at last.”
“How much do you suppose there is?” asked Mabel, awestruck, as she watched the boys still carrying their precious handfuls across the room.
“Enough