_“Oh, it’s he!” cried Priscilla._
FINDING THE
LOST TREASURE
By HELEN M. PERSONS
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK
Copyright MCMXXXIII
By The Saalfield Publishing Company
Printed in U.S.A.
CONTENTS
I A Mysterious Paper 5
II Desiré’s Inspirations 11
III Two Callers 17
IV Out to Sea 28
V A Midnight Walk 39
VI The Pie Social 50
VII A Fright 60
VIII A Fight 66
IX In Camp 72
X A Night Prowler 82
XI The Blue-covered Book 87
XII A Search for René 102
XIII Indians and Strawberries 107
XIV Two Mishaps 119
XV The Old Godet House 129
XVI A New Friend 140
XVII An Old Enemy 147
XVIII A Collision 152
XIX Poor Dolly! 157
XX Good Samaritans 168
XXI A Surprise 181
XXII Caught by Storm 192
XXIII Shelter 195
XXIV Back to Yarmouth 205
XXV Lobster Pots 215
XXVI Hands Off! 222
XXVII Jack’s Jobs 225
XXVIII A Find 235
XXIX W-17^55—15x12—6754 245
FINDING THE LOST TREASURE
CHAPTER I
A MYSTERIOUS PAPER
“W-17^55-15x12-6754,” read Desiré slowly. “What _does_ it mean?”
“What does what mean, Dissy?” asked her younger sister, who was rolling a
ball across the floor to little René.
“Just some figures on an old paper I found, dear. I must tell Jack about
them. Do you know where he is?”
“Out there somewhere, I guess,” replied the child, with a vague gesture
indicating the front yard.
Desiré flung back her short dark curls and crossed the room to a window
where sturdy geraniums raised their scarlet clusters to the very top of
the panes. It was the custom in that part of Nova Scotia to make a
regular screen of blossoming plants in all front windows, sometimes even
in those of the cellar. Peering between two thick stems, she could see
her older brother sitting on the doorstep, gazing out across St. Mary’s
Bay which lay like a blue, blue flag along the shore.
Crossing the narrow hall and opening the outside door, Desiré dropped
down beside the boy and thrust a time-yellowed slip of paper into his
hands.
“Did you ever see this?”
“Yes,” he replied slowly. “A few days before he died, _nôtre père_ went
over the contents of his tin box with me to make sure that I understood
all about the bills, and the mortgage on the farm and—”
“Mortgage!” exclaimed Desiré in shocked tones. “I never knew we had one.”
“I, either, until that day. You see _nôtre mère_ was sick so long that
all our little savings were used up, and ready money was an absolute
necessity.”
“And what did he tell you about this?” continued the girl, after a
thoughtful pause, running her finger along the line of tantalizing
characters.
“Nothing very definite. He said it was a memorandum of some kind that had
been handed down in our family for generations. The name of its writer,
and its meaning, have been lost in the past; but each father passed it on
to his eldest son, with a warning to preserve it most carefully, for it
was valuable.”
“And now it belongs to you,” concluded Desiré, half sadly, half proudly.
Jack nodded, and for several moments neither spoke.
John Wistmore, aged 18, Desiré, 14, Priscilla, 9, and René, 5, were
direct descendants of John Alden and Priscilla Mullins, whose story the
poet Longfellow tells in _The Courtship of Miles Standish_.
The little town of Sissiboo, an Indian corruption of _Six
Hiboux_[footnote: SIX OWLS.] where they lived, is one of those settled by
the Acadians upon their return to the land of their birth some years
after the expulsion. So closely, so ramblingly are the villages strung
along the shores of St. Mary’s Bay on the northwest coast of Nova Scotia
that it is hard to tell where one ends and the next begins. Their
inhabitants live exactly as did their ancestors, speaking French and
preserving with care all the old habits and customs.
The lives of the children had been simple, happy ones, until the recent
death of their father and mother, hardly three months apart. John
Wistmore, in whose veins flowed the blood of men of culture and ambition,
had been anxious to give his children greater educational advantages than
Sissiboo afforded. Jack, therefore, had been sent to Wolfville to school,
and was now ready for college; while Desiré was looking forward to high
school in the autumn. Now all was changed. Without relatives, without
money, and without prospects, they faced the problem of supporting the
two younger children and themselves.
“Where did you find this?” asked Jack, rousing himself.
“On the floor in front of the cupboard.”
“It must have slipped from the box when I took out the mortgage. I went
over it with Nicolas Bouchard this morning.”
“Oh, does he hold it?”
“Yes—and—”
“He wants his money?”
Jack nodded.
“But what can we do? We can’t possibly pay him.”
“Nothing, I guess, dear, except let him foreclose.”
“Would we get any money at all, then?”
“Very little. Not enough to live on, certainly.”
“I wish I knew what these mean,” she sighed wistfully, touching the paper
still between her brother’s fingers. “If we could only find out, maybe
we’d get enough money to pay Nicolas.”
Jack laughed in spite of his anxiety. “I’m afraid we’d all starve before
they could be interpreted. Too bad, as things have gone, that I didn’t
farm as soon as I was old enough—”
“Don’t say that! We’ll hope and plan for your college course—”
“Desiré, dear,” protested her brother, gently but firmly, “it is
absolutely out of the question, even to think of such a thing.”
“But, Jack, every one should have some special goal in life, as an
incentive if nothing else; and I’m _not_ going to give up planning for
our education. One never knows when good fortune is waiting just around
the next corner to complete one’s own efforts.”
“I guess _our_ goal will be to provide food and clothing for the
children. I’m afraid it will be a hard pull for you and me to keep the
family together—”
“Oh, but we _must_ stay together, Jack,” she cried, grasping his arm.
“As far as I can see,” he continued slowly, “the only thing to be done is
to move to Halifax or Yarmouth, where I could get work of some kind.
Should you mind very much?”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll be willing to do,” replied the girl bravely.
“If it will make you any happier,” continued Jack, giving her one of his
grave, sweet smiles, “we’ll place higher education among our day dreams.”
“If you folks ain’t hungry, we are!” announced Priscilla, opening the
door behind them so suddenly that both jumped.
“You see?” laughed Jack, as he pulled Desiré up from the low step.
“I’ve just had a wonderful inspiration though,” she whispered as they
entered the hall.