"No, I won't," replied the boy calmly. "She always let me play with this; there's such a funny little place in the lid she used to show me, I can't find it now--ah, here it is, I've got it." Hilda bent over him curiously. His little fingers had touched a spring, which, when pressed, caused the lining of the lid--a plain sheet of ivory--to fall inwards. As it opened an oblong sheet of bluish paper, folded--a typical legal document--fell out. "Now, Dicky, see what you've been doing; you've----" She stopped short, for she had read the writing on the paper: "The Will of George Barton. Dated December the 20th, 189-." CHAPTER V. JUST IN TIME. At the sight of those words even Hilda's self-possession forsook her for the moment The will of George Barton, dated December, here, in Miriam's keeping! There was only one conclusion to be arrived at from that. She had stolen it--that she might secure Gerald. As the thought flashed through her mind a great bitterness--a greater hatred for her rival came over Hilda. Dicky, absorbed as he was, saw that something was wrong. His keen little eyes had not failed to read the fateful heading. The word "will" was by no means without meaning for him. How often his mother had spoken of Uncle Barton's will! He had heard her not once, but a score of times. Child as he was, he knew quite well what had happened to deprive Gerald of his inheritance. Hilda glanced hurriedly, stealthily, through the contents of the deed. "I devise all my real and personal estate to my nephew, Gerald Arkel, absolutely"--those were the words her eye now caught, and they were more than enough. And she was the wife of John Dundas! Why had Fate played her such a sorry trick?--she who had given up so much--had schemed so zealously for the possession of this affluence. It had been her goal through life. She had sacrificed everything to it, only to have it snatched from her now that she had tasted the sweet of it. It was too cruel. What should she do? Dicky looked up, all innocent inquiry. That look brought her to herself again. At any cost the truth must be kept from him. She smiled and put her hand upon his shoulder. "Dicky dear," she said in a whisper, "do you know what this is?" "It's a will, Hilda, isn't it? Mother was always talking about Uncle Barton's will. Is this the one?" "Yes, dear, this is the one. It's been lost for ever so long, and now that you have found it your dear Miriam will be _so_ rich." "Oh, how jolly!--I am so pleased, aren't you, Hilda?" "Yes, dear; and I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll prepare _such_ a surprise for Miriam." "Oh yes; how, Hilda, how shall we do it?" The little fellow's eyes positively danced with delight. "Well, first I must talk to Major Dundas about it, because of course he will have to give the money to Miriam's husband. Now, Dicky, whatever you do you must not say a word about it. It must be a _great_ secret. You must promise me that first of all. Very well----"