Miss Merriam nodded.

Below the ring lay a miniature, the portrait of a fair woman with deep blue eyes.  It was set round with brilliants and on the gold back was engraved, “Gertrude Merriam.”

Miss Merriam stared at it and then handed it to Mr. Emerson.

“What a marvellous likeness!” he exclaimed.  “You must be able to see it yourself.”

Gertrude nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

“There’s no question that she’s your ancestor.  Now, I’d like to see if the correct number of coins is here if you’ll let Roger and me count your guineas for you.”

“Count my guineas?” cried Miss Merriam.

“Certainly they’re your guineas.  You’re a direct descendant of Algernon and Patience.  The bag and its contents belong to you.”

Gertrude stared at Mr. Emerson as if she could not understand him.

“Mine?” she repeated, “mine?” but when Mr. Emerson insisted and the other elders congratulated her and the girls kissed her and Roger shook hands formally, she began, to realize that this little fortune really was hers by right and not through the kindness of her friends.

The count of the coins proved exact.  There were 569 of them.

“Here are the two that fell on the floor when we were hammering,” said Roger, laying them on the table.  “They make 571.”

“And here is the one that Ayleesabet found,” added Mr. Emerson, drawing it from his pocket.  “That is the five hundred and seventy-second.  Young Vladimir’s trophy has gone for good, I’m afraid.  He must have sold it to some passer-by who knew enough to realize that it was a valuable coin and wasn’t honest enough to hunt for the owner or to pay the child its full value.”

“Every one of the 573 is accounted for, anyway,” declared Roger.  “You won’t think it impertinent if I figure out how much you’re worth, will you Miss Gertrude?”

“I shall be glad if you will,” she answered.

“A guinea is 21 shillings and a shilling is about 24 cents in American money.  That makes a guinea worth about $5.04.  Five hundred-and-seventy-two times that makes $2882.88.”

“Almost three thousand dollars!” exclaimed Gertrude, her face radiant; “why—­why now—­” she broke off suddenly and hid her face on Mrs. Smith’s shoulder, sobbing.

“Now I can pay all my indebtedness and be free to do what I please,” she said to her friend in an undertone.

Mrs. Smith patted her gently, for she knew what it was she wanted to be free to do.

“This fortune is going to mount up to more than three thousand dollars,” declared Mr. Emerson.  “There isn’t a coin here that was minted later than 1774.  There can’t be, because Algernon came to this country in the early part of 1775.  Pile them up according to the dates on them, children, and let’s see what there is that will appeal to the dealer in antiquities.”

“At that rate every coin here, even the youngest, is worth more than $5.04,” exclaimed Roger.