THE BLACK BOX
Past the ghostly figures the three girls made their way, nervous shivers
running up and down their spines in spite of the fact that they knew
these figures would not harm them.
As they threw the rays from their lights on the rear wall of the room, Jo
Ann suddenly halted. “This wall’s different from the others,” she
announced. “It looks as if it’s made of stone panels.”
“It certainly does,” agreed Florence.
Eagerly Jo Ann began examining one of the panels, testing it to see if it
would move. Following her example, Peggy and Florence began trying to
move the ones nearest them. Each panel, they discovered, had a slight
depression carved in the top, which served as a fingerhold.
After they had worked for several minutes without success, Peggy said
disgustedly, “Let’s stop this foolishness and get out of this awful room.
These panels look like vaults or tombs—like the ones we saw in that old
St. Roch’s Cemetery in New Orleans. I’ve seen enough spooks and family
skeletons to do me for ages.” She tugged at Jo Ann’s arm impatiently.
Almost simultaneously Jo Ann exclaimed, “Oh, I’ve found a panel that
moves! Shine your light this way, Peg, while Florence helps me to shove
it up.”
Together Jo Ann and Florence pushed vigorously on the panel.
“Fine! It’s moving!” ejaculated Jo Ann finally. “Once more,
Florence—hard, now!”
Peggy threw the rays from her flashlight directly into the narrow crack
now appearing below the stone. “Oh, I see something—something white! Push
the stone up a little higher, can’t you?” Turning suddenly to Florence,
she ordered, “You hold the light and let me push. I’m stronger than you.”
In a few more moments there was a loud grating sound as the stone moved,
and the crack below widened several inches.
“There’s something in there, all right,” agreed Florence. “If you promise
not to let that stone drop on my hand, I’ll reach in and get it. Can you
hold it?”
“Let’s get a better hold first!” cried Jo Ann. “My hand’s slipping. Now,
are you ready, Peg?”
“Okay.”
Quickly Florence reached through the crack. “Feels like a box!” she
exclaimed excitedly. “But I can’t get it out. There’s a roll of paper or
something, too.”
“We’ll push a little harder,” said Jo Ann. “Push, Peg—with all your
might. Now—can you—get hold—of them?”
“I’ve got them!” Florence’s voice was triumphant. “Hold it just another
second so I can see if there’s anything else.” She flashed the light into
the opening again.
“Hurry!” cut in Peggy. “We can’t—hold this thing—much longer. It weighs a
ton.”
“I can’t see anything else,” Florence said a moment later. “Let it go.”
With sighs of relief Jo Ann and Peggy let the slab drop into place.
“Whew—that stone was heavy!” gasped Peggy. She glanced disappointedly at
the small black box and roll of paper which Florence held in her hand.
“And all that hard work for nothing but a little insignificant-looking
box and a piece of paper! I told you these were nothing but grave vaults.
Let’s get out of this cemetery.”
After one last glance around the room Jo Ann followed Peggy and Florence
to the door.
“I’m glad the door’s not stuck this time,” she remarked as she pulled it
shut.
As she turned to join the girls Florence called, “Look right down this
passage, Jo. There’s another cave-in.”
Flashing her light in that direction, Jo Ann exclaimed, “You’re
right—that is a cave-in. There’ve been steps there, too. This must’ve
been the passage leading up into the church. It looks as if the whole
side of the building has fallen down.”
“I know where we are, then,” Florence put in. “We’re right under that
section of the church that’s partly in ruins. That’s the reason no one’s
been down here in years and years.”
Now that her curiosity was satisfied about the passage to the church, Jo
Ann turned to Florence. “You still have the box and the paper you took
out of that vault, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but they don’t look at all interesting or valuable.”
With one glance at the dull black box Jo Ann reached out and took the
roll of papers from Florence.
“Oh dear,” she sighed a moment later, “they’re all in Spanish, of course.
This is the queerest writing—all fancy flourishes and curly-cues. I can’t
make anything out of it, can you, Florence?”
Florence looked down at the papers a moment, then shook her head. “All
that I can make out of it is that it’s some kind of old record.”
“Let me have a look at the box, then. Maybe it’ll explain something.”
As Florence handed it to Jo Ann she remarked, “If you can find out
anything from this old black box, you’re a good one.”
“I thoroughly agree with you. It doesn’t look at all interesting.” Jo Ann
turned the box from side to side. “It’s unusually heavy, though, for such
a small box.” She shook it vigorously. “Listen! There’s something inside
that makes a little rattling noise.”
“It can’t be anything much—not in that small box,” commented Peggy.
“I wish we could open it,” said Jo Ann, studying the box while Florence
held the light. “It must have a secret spring—there’s no sign of a
keyhole.”
“A secret spring!” Peggy’s interest was instantly aroused. “Let me see
it, will you?”
When Peggy reached out to take the box, its weight took her by surprise,
and she let it slip out of her hands and fall crashing to the floor.
Dropping down on their knees, Jo Ann and Peggy reached for the box at the
same time.
“O—oh!” gasped Jo Ann, her voice quivering with excitement.
“O—oh!” echoed Peggy.
“What is it?” Florence asked quickly as she leaned over their shoulders.
Spellbound the three girls gazed before them. The insignificant black box
lay on its side, wide open, part of its contents spilled out on the
floor. There was the gleam of old gold and the brilliant sparkle and
flash of fire. All the colors of the rainbow seemed reflected in that
circle of light.
“How perfectly magnificent!” ejaculated Peggy in an awed voice.
“Wonderful! An old jewel case!” exclaimed Jo Ann, entranced by the beauty
before her.
“Gorgeous!” added Florence.
One by one, as though afraid of touching them, the girls picked up the
jewels from the floor. Rings set with precious stones—diamonds, rubies,
sapphires, opals gorgeous as the sunset—necklaces, earrings, and chains
of gold. Queer, antique-looking, all of them.
“Isn’t this the loveliest thing you ever laid your eyes on!” cried Peggy,
holding up a filigree necklace of such delicate workmanship that it
resembled a piece of fine old lace.
“It’s exquisite,” agreed Florence.
“And look at this ring—isn’t it the most beautiful one you ever saw?” Jo
Ann held up a ring that had one large exquisite opal circled by tiny
diamonds. “I love opals. The opal’s my birthstone. When my ship comes
in—if it ever does—I’ll try to buy me a ring just like this.”
“It is lovely. They all are—the diamonds, rubies, all of them,” added
Florence. “They must be very valuable. I wonder why they were hidden
here. Oh!” she cried suddenly, an expression of horror passing over her
face. “These belong to the church. We can’t take them—that’d be stealing.
We must put them right back where we found them this minute.”
“Not I,” said Peggy emphatically.
“What would be the sense of leaving these things hidden for another
century or more?” put in Jo Ann quickly.
“I don’t know, but I still feel that we’ll be stealing if we take them,”
insisted Florence.
“I know what we’d better do!” exclaimed Jo Ann as a sudden solution of
the problem occurred to her. “We can take them to Señor Rodriguez and let
him dispose of them in the proper legal manner. Don’t you think that
would be best?”
“Yes—perhaps so,” slowly agreed Florence. “He ought to know what would be
right.”
While Florence and Jo Ann had been arguing about what to do with the
pieces of jewelry, Peggy was putting them back in the black box.
“I can’t get all these things back in this box,” she sighed finally. “How
in the world did they ever get so much in such a small box?”
“Wait! Don’t close it. We might not be able to get it open again.” Jo Ann
reached over and took the box. “Let me tie this string around it so
nothing’ll spill out.”
In a few minutes the box was securely tied. Holding it tightly, Jo Ann
hastened back to the entrance to the tunnel, the other girls following
closely.