“Possible: and yet I do not believe it,” said Colonel Mapleson thoughtfully. “He was a strange character, as the hiding of these documents proves, and I am convinced there are more concealed somewhere else.” “I do not see what the man could have been thinking of, if he was in his right mind, to hide his property in such a way, without leaving some clew to it! How could he expect his heir would ever be benefited by his money, when what represented it was concealed in that secret compartment?” said Everet, impatiently. “That is a question, and the act was only one of the many queer things that made the man what he was,” replied his father. “What will you do with these papers?” the young man inquired. “I do not know what to do with them,” returned the colonel, a perplexed frown on his brow. “Who would inherit the property in case the direct legatee cannot be found?” “I suppose I am the nearest of kin,” said Colonel Mapleson. “It was so decided when the question as to who should inherit the Hermitage and land belonging to him, came up after his death.” “Then all this money will be yours also, if neither Annie Dale nor any of her heirs can be found?” said Everet, with suppressed eagerness. “I suppose it will; but——” “But what?” “I do not want it, Everet; I have enough without it. I would much prefer that the rightful heir should have it.” “I suppose you will advertise for Annie Dale, or for her nearest of kin?” Everet said, bending a keen look upon his father. “I don’t know. I shall have to think the matter over first—perhaps consult my lawyer about it,” Colonel Mapleson replied, meditatively. He fell into deep thought, and neither spoke for several minutes. At length the colonel glanced up at the clock. “Well,” he remarked, with a sigh, “I have business to attend to, and I must be off.” He arose, gathered up the papers, carefully wrapping them all together, then, locking them into a drawer of his desk, he abruptly left the room. Everet sat there for more than an hour afterward, his head bowed upon his hand, thinking deeply, his brow contracted, his whole face wearing a perplexed and troubled look. At length, he, too, left the house, ordered his horse, and rode away in the direction of the old mill. Reaching the Dale cottage, which was evidently his destination, he dismounted, fastened his horse, and then bent his steps around to the back door, intending to force an entrance, as before; and yet, if any one had asked the question, he could not have told why he had come there again. But, as he was passing the window of the little bedroom, he was sure that he saw one of the curtains move. “Aha!” he said to himself; “either a mouse or some human being was the cause of that. I do not believe there is anything inside that empty house to attract a hungry mouse, so I will be cautious in my movements, and maybe I shall make a discovery of some kind.”