“I do not think anyone will ever come for her, but could I solve one mystery I know where to look.”

“For what?”

“Her friends.”

CHAPTER VI.

Garcia was evidently, as the listening detective discerned, a very shrewd, quick-witted man.

He fixed his keen dark eyes on the old smuggler, and said: 

“There is something you are keeping back from me; come now, I will pay you one hundred dollars to tell me Renie’s history.”

“You will give a hundred dollars?” Pearce exclaimed, in an eager tone.

“Yes, I will.”

“You will pay the money right down?”

“Yes.”

“I will show the letter.”

The old man went down in his pocket, and drew forth the time-stained letter he had been reading when the detective first looked in upon him, and drawing closer to the light, said: 

“I won’t show you the whole letter, but I will read just one portion to you,” and he read as follows: 

“Dear Tom,—­There has been one thing on my mind for a long time.  I am getting old, and at any time might die, and I have a secret which I feet I should share with you in order to guard against accidents.  Upon that terrible night when Renie was placed in my care, there was also consigned to my keeping a box—­a sealed box—­which I was never to open until Renie should reach the age of twenty-one, or be called for by parties claiming her as their child.  I was given to understand that the box contained proofs of the dear child’s birth and parentage, and it was hinted that some day she would inherit an immense fortune.  I never told you about the box, but when I return I will confide to you the place where it is concealed, so that you will be prepared to carry out the trust in case anything should happen to me before Renie becomes of age, or is claimed by those who placed her in my charge.”

The remainder of the letter had no bearing upon the case of Renie, but was devoted to general matters.

After Tom Pearce had concluded the reading there followed a momentary silence.  The man Garcia appeared to be lost in deep thought.  The old smuggler also appeared to be lost in deep meditation.

After an interval Garcia said: 

“From that letter it would appear that the proofs of the girl’s identity were in your wife’s possession?”

“Yes.”

“Did she keep her promise to you?”

“You mean did she inform me’ where the box was hidden?”

“Yes.”

“She did not.”

“And she died without making the revelation?”

“Yes, she died very suddenly.”

“Did you ever search over her papers?”

“I did.”

“And never came across the slightest clew?”

“Never!”

“Why was it she did not make a confidant of you?”

“Well, I was a pretty wild sort of man in those days, and it’s my idea that many precious jewels are hidden in that box.”