"Look, Steve!" he cried, trembling with excitement, "I knowed thar was
somethin' here!"
Stephen was now as much aroused as Tony. "What's in it, do you think?" he
asked.
"Gold! that's what's in it! Ye'll soon see," and Tony pulled back a little
iron pin and threw up the cover. As he did so he gave a cry of surprise,
for the light falling upon the interior showed nothing there but a few
pieces of paper. Tony rubbed his eyes in amazement, and then looked at
Stephen.
"Whar's that gold?" he fiercely demanded. "What has become of it?"
Stephen scarcely heard him, for a terrible idea had flashed into his mind.
Someone had taken it, and was it--? He hardly dare let the name beat for
an instant through his brain. It was cruel. No, no, it could not be! That
white-haired man of God would not stoop to such a thing! But where was the
gold?
The moon rose clear and full above the distant horizon. It seemed to ask
silently the same question. A dog from a farm-house up the road split the
air with its hoarse bark of wonder. Stephen placed his hand to his
forehead in an abstracted manner. Then he glanced at the box, and the
papers lying therein arrested his attention.
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