I have been
neglecting my opportunities. Suppose you let me get at that box, Val.
And look here, if you are going to unpack these, why not move them down
to the end of the hall and turn them out on a sheet?"
Charity and Ricky suddenly disappeared back into the room and were very
busy whenever Rupert crossed their line of vision, but Val was heartily
glad of his brother's help in lifting and pulling.
"Better not try to take this bedstead and stuff out," Rupert advised
when they had the three boxes out in the hall. "We have no need for it
now, anyway."
"I believe--yes, it is! A real Sergnoret piece!" Charity was
industriously rubbing away at the head of the bed. Rupert knelt down
beside her.
"And just what is a Sergnoret piece?"
"A collector's item nowadays. Francois Sergnoret was one of the greatest
cabinet-makers of New Orleans. See that 'S'--that's the way he always
signed his work."
"Treasure trove!" cried Ricky. "I wonder how much it's worth?"
"Exactly nothing to us." Rupert was running his hands across the
mahogany. "We couldn't sell anything from this house until the title is
cleared."
As Val moved around to the opposite side to see better, his foot struck
against something on the floor. He stooped and picked up a box with a
slanting cover, the whole black and smooth with age and the rubbing of
countless hands.
"What's this?" He had crossed to the door and was examining his find in
the light.
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