The heat of the hay was intense. The stuffy, dry smell of it filled their nostrils. Where the bright, wide ray of sunlight fell from the little window in the apex, the air was seen to be dancing and palpitating with millions of tiny particles that kept up a continuous churning motion. The perspiration dripped from the Vicar’s round cheeks; she panted with the heat. Walking on his tiptoes, the Head Captain sought the darkest depths of the corner, stumbling over an old covered chest. He stopped, he put his hand on the lid. The two attendant officers gasped. The Head Captain, with infinite caution, lifted that lid. Suddenly a dull, echoing crash shook the floor. The Vicar squeaked in nervous terror. I say squeaked, because with grand presence of mind the Lieutenant smothered her certain scream in the folds of his ever-ready sash, and only a faint chirp disturbed the deathly silence that followed the crash. The Head Captain’s hand trembled, but he held the cover of the chest and waited. Again that hollow boom, followed by a rustling, as of hay being dragged down, and a champing, swallowing, gurgling sound. [Illustration: “_Smothered her certain scream in the folds of his ever-ready sash._”] “Nothin’ but the horses,” whispered the Lieutenant, removing his sash. “Shut up, now!” The Vicar breathed again. The Head Captain bent over the chest. “Oh! Oh! Oh, fellows! Look a-here!” His voice shook. His eyes stared wide. They crept nearer and caught big breaths. There in the old chest, carelessly thrown together, uncovered, unprotected, lay a glittering wealth of strange gold and silver treasures. Knobs, cups, odd pierced, shallow saucers, countless rings as big as small cookies, plain bars of metal, heavy rods. The Head Captain’s eyes shone feverishly, he breathed quick. “Here, here, here!” he whispered, and thrust his hands into the box. He ladled out a handful to the Vicar. For a moment she shrank away; and then, as a shallow, carved gold-colored thing touched her hand, her cheeks heated red, she seized it and hid it in her pocket. “Gimme another,” she begged softly, “gimme that shiny, little cup!” If there had been any doubt as to the heavenly reality of the thing, it was all over now. No more need the Head Captain’s swelling words fill out the bare gaps of the actual state of the case. Here were the things—this was no pretend-game. Here was danger, here was crime, here was glittering wealth all unguarded, and no one knew but them! They gloated over the chest; their hot fingers handled eagerly every ring and big chain. Only the Lieutenant, sucking in his breath, excitedly broke the ecstatic silence. The Head Captain first mastered himself. “Hm, that’s enough—_from here_!” he commanded with dreadful implication. “Come on. They’ll kill us if they catch us! Soft, now. Don’t breathe so loud, Vicar!”