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Rh tions would be asked, and it'd be all up with this archæologist business."

"Couldn't you hide it under your bed?" I suggested.

"Oh, she'd be sure to find it," he replied sadly. "She's into everything. And even if they didn't locate it till I am dead, they'd feel disgraced to think their father had been a pirate. You'll have to take it."

We agreed, therefore, to ease him of the responsibility of his strangely gotten gain. We then parted with the understanding that we were to meet him in the passage between the two houses promptly at midnight, and that in the meantime we were to preserve a calm and commonplace demeanour.

With the addition of four crullers and a slab of cold bread pudding filched from the pantry, our preparations were now complete.

We were well disciplined little animals; we always went to bed without a murmur, but on this night we literally flew there. The Seraph ended his prayers with—"and for this piwate tweasure make us twuly thankful. Amen."

The next moment we had dived under the bed clothes and snuggled there in wild expectancy.

From half past seven to twelve is a long stretch. The Seraph slept peacefully. Angel or I rose every little while and struck a match to