“And he never sold the stamps.”
“He couldn’t. It was too dangerous. He made up his mind to return them to Elroy Jefferson. So he took the rosewood box and came back to Bayport.”
“Why didn’t he return them?” asked Frank, in surprise.
“Mr. Jefferson was away. He had gone to Europe on one of his periodical collecting trips. Then my uncle was afraid he might be recognized around Bayport and he knew that if he were arrested and the stamps found on him, no one would believe that he had meant to give them back. So he determined to hide them until he would have a chance to see Mr. Jefferson. At this time, Cabin Island had been purchased, and the cabin was being built. One day, my uncle was prowling about the Jefferson place, wondering if he could steal into the house and return the box without being seen, when Mrs. Jefferson saw him. He did not know if he had been recognized, but he went away. A little while later, he saw her leave the house with the gardener, and he saw them looking for him. He became frightened, and he hired a boat and went out into the bay. But evidently they traced him, for in a little while Mrs. Jefferson and the gardener set out in their own boat.”
Hanleigh looked gloomily at the floor.
“My uncle was afraid that they would turn him over to the police if they caught him with the rosewood box. He wanted to talk to Elroy Jefferson and have the charge against him withdrawn. So he decided to flee, but the only place he could think of just then was Cabin Island. So he went there in the boat. The cabin was just being built at this time, as I said, and the fireplace and chimney had not been finished. The masons had the chimney just about half completed. As it was a Sunday, the island was deserted that day. Fearing that he might be trapped on the island, with the box in his possession, he hid it in a hollow of one of the stones and covered it over with mortar, intending to come back for it later. Then he got away from the island before Mrs. Jefferson overtook him.”
“Didn’t he go back later?” asked Chet.
Hanleigh nodded. “He went back next day. But the masons were back at work, completing the chimney. He did not have a chance to get near the place. He remained hidden on the island all day until they went home that night. Then he went up to the cabin to recover the box. He found that more stones had been placed over the stone where he had hidden the box. They had been securely mortared. The box was sealed up. In spite of all he could do, he could not get the box again. He came back to the island several times that week but he had no success. Every day, the masons did more work on the chimney, and every day his chances grew less. So he left Bayport and went to a little village in Maine, where he lived for a number of years. He did not try to get in touch with Elroy Jefferson again. Then, about five years ago, he determined to make another effort to recover the box and he came back, making several trips to the island, but although he tried to get at the box from inside the chimney, he failed. When he died, the box had not been recovered, although my uncle had repented bitterly of his foolish crime. In his will, he left his property to me and he also left a sealed letter containing the confession I have just told you.”
“And he asked you to recover the box.”
“Yes. But I wanted it for myself. I had become acquainted with a man who said he could dispose of it for me. He offered me fifty thousand dollars for the collection.”
“Fifty thousand dollars!” exclaimed the boys.
“It is worth even more than that, for many of the stamps have increased in value since the year they disappeared. I don’t suppose Elroy Jefferson would sell it at any price. My uncle was dead, I was the only person who knew where the stamps were hidden, so I made up my mind to get them for myself. I came to the island, but I soon saw that the only way I could get at the box would be to wreck the chimney. I went to Elroy Jefferson and made him an offer for the cabin. I did not have the eight thousand dollars I offered him, but I thought that if he accepted, I could give him a small cash payment, occupy the island long enough to get possession of the stamps, and then I would clear out. But he wouldn’t sell. So then I determined to get the stamps by hook or by crook—”
“Mostly crook!” interrupted Chet.
Hanleigh flashed him a glance of hatred.
“You boys spoiled my game!”
“We were almost ready to give up,” Frank told him. “If you hadn’t been so persistent we might have left the island and you might have got the stamps after all.”
“I was afraid you would find them first,” said Hanleigh. “When I lost that notebook, I was afraid you would solve the cipher and get the box before I had a chance. Well, I took a long chance, and I lost. That’s the whole story. Now what are you going to do?”
He glared at them defiantly.
“First of all,” Frank decided. “We are going to wait until this storm dies down. Then we are going to take you back to Bayport.”
“Not to the police!” shouted Hanleigh, in terror.
“No—not to the police. I imagine Mr. Jefferson will be content with getting the stamps back. We promised not to turn you over to the police if you confessed, and we’ll keep our
