Rupert's hand fell upon his shoulder. "Val, be careful of that. Charity,
he's got something here!" He pulled her up beside him, not noting in his
excitement that he had broken out of the formal shell which seemed to
wall him in whenever she was around.
"A Bible box! And an authentic one, too!" She drew her fingers down the
slope of the lid.
"And just what is it?" Val asked for the second time.
"These boxes were used in the seventeenth century for writing-desks and
later to keep the large family Bibles in. But this is the first one I've
ever seen outside of a museum. What's this on the lid?" She traced a
worn outline. Val studied the design.
"Why, it's Joe! You know, that grinning skull we have stuck up all over
the place to bolster up our superiority complex. That proves that this
is ours, all right."
"Perhaps--" Ricky's eyes were round with excitement, "perhaps it
belonged to Pirate Dick himself!"
"Perhaps it did," her younger brother agreed.
"Lift the lid." She was almost hopping on one foot in her impatience.
"Let's see what's inside."
"No gold or jewels, I'll wager. How do you get the thing undone?"
"Here, let me try." Rupert took it from Val's hands and put it down on
one of the chests, squatting on the floor before it. With the smallest
blade of his penknife he delicately probed the fastening sunken in the
wood.
"I could do a faster job," he remarked, "if you didn't all breathe down
the back of my neck.
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