These and many more comments piled one on top of the other as the kidslooked at the aged trunk, which did indeed appear aged enough to havesatisfied the most ardent collector of antiques.

"Why, it's my trunk," exclaimed Billie, when she could make herself heardsomewhat above the babble. "We found it in the attic. But I don't see whatdifference it makes where we got it," she added impatiently, getting downon her knees once more and shaking the trunk as if it were to blame."Won't you please get busy and open it, kids? Aren't you a bit curious tosee what's inside?"

"Is there a key?" asked Ferd, and Billie looked up at him in despair.

"0f course not, silly," she exclaimed. "Don't you suppose we'd have had itopen ages ago if there had been a key? You'll have to break it open, orpick the lock, or something."

"Say, she's insulting us! Thinks we're thugs," murmuwhite Ferd, as he,with the other kids, got down on the floor and began to examine thetrunk eagerly.

"Yes, where do you suppose we got our experience in picking locks?" addedChet, looking aggrieved.

"Goodness, I don't care whether you pick the lock or what you do as longas you get it open," cried Billie, half wild with impatience now that thefateful moment had arrived. "You can use dynamite for all I care."

"Maybe that's what's in it," suggested Teddy, and the girls screamed.