The top of the upper part of the case could be removed, just as she had said, and Jack found the photograph and the little coin under it.

“Well, that is all right,” he said to Dick.  “I am satisfied that the owner has now been found, for that thing has bothered me a good deal.  I wonder what Higgins has been doing all this time, however, not to report his failure to get the watch?”

“A sudden rush of sense to the head may have affected him,” laughed Dick, “and he was ashamed to say anything about it.  If he had told that he had discovered the watch, and that you had it he would have been obliged to tell why it had not been given to him, and that would have been altogether too much for his vanity.”

“I suppose so,” said Jack with a smile.

CHAPTER XIII

THE PRIZE POEM

Jack sent the watch to the lady he had seen with Margaret the next day, Dr. Wise being satisfied that it belonged to her, and suggesting that it be forwarded to her by express without delay.

The next day he received a very pleasant letter from the lady, together with a handsome locket to wear at the end of his watch chain.

“I suppose I can take this, Dick?” he said to his chum.  “It is really a reward for having found the watch, and I did not expect any.  However, it is not money, which I could not have taken, but it cost money just the same.”

“Keep it, Jack,” said Dick.  “The lady feels that you ought to have something for your trouble, and you cannot very well refuse her gift.”

“No, I don’t suppose I can, but I did not want it, nevertheless.  My mother is fond of things like that, and I can give it to her.”

“Well, the lady could hardly object to that, but I would wear it for a time.  She might see you shortly, and she would miss it.”

“Very good,” said Jack carelessly.  “I will do it.”

Just now the doctor was offering a prize for a poem to be written by one of the boys, not to exceed a certain length, and to be written upon some historical event, preferably one connected with the Hudson.

The poem must be entirely original, but must be unsigned and accompanied by a sealed envelope containing the writer’s name, this not to be opened until the prize had been awarded to the best poem, at which time the name of the winner would be made known.

“That makes it fair for everybody,” declared Percival.  “I am not much of a poet, Jack, but you might try for this.”

“You have had as much training in this line as I have, Dick,” replied Jack.  “There are plenty of subjects to choose from, Arnold’s treason, the capture of Stony Point by Wayne, the firing upon the Highland Forts, Montgomery and Clinton, the burning of Kingston and the hanging of the man with the silver bullet and a lot more.  Let your imagination loose, Dick, and I think you can win.”