Page:The Popular Magazine v72 n1 (1924-04-20).djvu/32

 Harnways never fought for the box itself, but to hold what they were justly entitled to, something that was their own. If it had been a wooden cat it would have been fought for as zealously, as intrepidly. Of course it was a pity that the feud ever arose, because I'll admit that the Powells were a fine family, one of the best in Kentucky, and worthy foemen. Most worthy.”

“Then, Uncle Lem, you have no very great dislike for them, now, have you?”

“Lord bless your soul, my boy, no dislike whatever. In fact I have met and feel rather friendly toward the last male Powell left alive, young William. But of course we never refer to the Crusader's Casket.”

“And you have met—that is—by the way, are there any other Powells whom you have met?”

The old man laughed softly, took the box from his nephew's hands and as he restored it to the cabinet and locked it, while his face was averted, said, “Yes, there's one other, a sister of William's. And she's a little devil! Got all the Powell courage, and daring, and damn'd obstinate determination to carry on the feud until she gets that box. But, by God! no Powell can ever have it!”

For a moment Jimmy was at loss for words, and then, remembering the legends, turned the conversation.

“I believe there was a mystery about its contents, wasn't there, or something like that—some unsolved secret as to how it could be opened?”

His uncle quietly reopened the cabinet, brought the box forth again, and spoke as if the feud were forgotten in the interest of the relic.

“Here, let me show you something exceptionally ingenious. I forgot to mention it. Yes, it can be opened. I learned how to do it myself, but whatever relic it originally contained was missing. Somebody in the past had nabbed it. It is opened this way.”

He held the box up, readjusted his glasses, and pressed a corner of an arabesque that slid a tiny fraction of an inch to one side. He turned the box over and moved a similar arabesque on an end, then one at the back, and at the other end, after which he pressed the central portion of another figure, and the lid flew open, exposing the empty interior with its ebony lining.

“Isn't that ingenious?” he asked gloatingly. “It took me five years to learn that trick, and then it was by accident. Lay you five dollars you can't do it now.”

“Done,” said Jimmy, and promptly lost the five. His uncle was elated as a boy over a puzzle. “Have another five on it? Well, it would be a shame to take your money. Here, hold it in your hands and let me show you. Here's one of the secrets—you must press hard on the sides when moving the end slides, otherwise, as it's already cost you five to learn, they don't move. I regard this as one of the cleverest mechanical things I've ever seen.”

“Clever enough to cost me five dollars,” Jimmy agreed with a grin as he opened and reshut the box several times, before handing it to its owner.

“I observe that you like and appreciate that box, Jimmy,” said the older man. “As I've remarked, I begin to feel old and the cares of possession, and defending Harnway property, become onerous. Also I feel generous toward my only surviving kith and kin and so—Jimmy, I'll give you that box, here and now, with just one single proviso: And that is that you'll pledge yourself never—never—to let it fall into the hands of a Powell.”

He extended his old hands with the box resting in their palms, as if presenting some priceless offering. His fine clear eyes stared at Jimmy while the latter stood regarding the little golden casket as if fascinated by its dull glow. It seemed to gleam mockingly up at him as if daring him to grasp it. He was in a mental quandry [sic]. He was tempted to accept it and then opportunely let Tommie know that it was in his possession and—couldn't she steal it from him easier than from this inflexible old gentleman of the feudal school who had it guarded in the heart of a great palace? Why carry on the absurd feud? Why not end it now in the easiest way? His hand moved slowly forward and then abruptly stopped, wavered, and fell.

“No, sir,” he said in a somewhat strained but quiet voice, “there are—certain reasons why I can't accept the casket with such a pledge.”

Still fascinated by the box, as if hypnotized by all it meant, he didn't look up at his kinsman's face. He did not observe the strange expression that came over it. It was one of relief, of smiling self-satisfaction, much like the expression that a miser might have displayed when dealing with a fool who