He had nearly reached it, when a tall figure, moving from the roadside, put a hand on his shoulder.

“You are Luke Larkin?” said the stranger, in questioning tone.

“Yes, sir.”

“Is the tin box safe?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That is all—­for the present,” and the stranger walked quickly away.

“Who can he be,” thought Luke, in wonder, “and why should he have trusted a complete stranger—­and a boy?”

Evidently there was some mystery about the matter.  Had the stranger come honestly by the box, or was Luke aiding and abetting a thief?  He could not tell.

CHAPTER VIII

MISS SPRAGUE DISCOVERS A SECRET

About this time it became known to one person in the village that the Larkins had in their possession a tin box, contents unknown.

This is the way it happened: 

Among the best-known village residents was Miss Melinda Sprague, a maiden lady, who took a profound interest in the affairs of her neighbors.  She seldom went beyond the limits of Groveton, which was her world.  She had learned the business of dressmaking, and often did work at home for her customers.  She was of a curious and prying disposition, and nothing delighted her more than to acquire the knowledge of a secret.

One day—­a few days after Florence Grant’s party—­Mrs. Larkin was in her own chamber.  She had the trunk open, having occasion to take something from it, when, with a light step, Miss Sprague entered the room.  The widow, who was on her knees before the trunk, turning, recognized the intruder, not without displeasure.

“I hope you’ll excuse my coming in so unceremoniously, Mrs. Larkin,” said Melinda, effusively.  “I knocked, but you didn’t hear it, being upstairs, and I took the liberty, being as we were so well acquainted, to come upstairs in search of you.”

“Yes, certainly,” answered Mrs. Larkin, but her tone was constrained.

She quickly shut the lid of the trunk.  There was only one thing among its contents which she was anxious to hide, but that Miss Melinda’s sharp eyes had already discovered.  Unfortunately, the tin box was at one side, in plain sight.

“What on earth does Mrs. Larkin do with a tin box?” she asked herself, with eager curiosity.  “Can she have property that people don’t know of?  I always thought she was left poor.”

Melinda asked no questions.  The sudden closing of the trunk showed her that the widow would not be inclined to answer any questions.

“I won’t let her think I saw anything,” she said to herself.  “Perhaps she’ll get anxious and refer to it.”

“We will go downstairs, Melinda,” said Mrs. Larkin.  “It will be more comfortable.”

“If you have anything to do up here, I beg you won’t mind me,” said the spinster.

“No, I have nothing that won’t wait.”

So the two went down into the sitting-room.