“Yes, and the mystery is still agoing. Josiah Judd, in whose hands he was placed, happened to be the only person who knew the boy’s history, and he died without telling it. Who the child was or why he was sent here no one knows and no one seems likely to discover. Josiah died about twelve years ago, and ever since that time stray clusters of emeralds, pearls, and diamonds have been turning up in unexpected places about the house. Some are hidden away in secretary drawers, others folded in bits of paper behind books. They have tumbled from the pockets of Josiah’s old clothes, and a few years ago his widow discovered in one of his ancient slippers an envelope containing something that felt like seeds. On the outside was written ‘Amos’s things.’ She tore it open and found a dozen or more magnificent rubies, rubies such as one never sees in this country. They were sold for over two hundred thousand dollars.” “Gracious!” exclaimed Molly, “what possessed him to leave them in such places? Was he crazy?” “On the contrary, he was too wise. Not wishing to dispose of them in a lump, he did it gradually, and concealed them for greater safety in different places, so that no one thief could steal them all. Whenever he sold them he invested the proceeds in solid securities. No one knows to what extent the old farmhouse is still a jewel casket. It is more than likely that cracks and corners to-day are hiding their precious stones.” “How mysterious and exciting!” exclaimed Molly. “It seems too romantic for practical New England.” “That is just the trouble with it,” said her father. He leaned back in his chair and continued, with a smile, “I suspect our guest has been reading his ‘Monte Cristo’ lately, which may account for a pardonable exaggeration in a historian who means to be honest. Who told you all this, Sam? The Judds’ family cat?”