"And so he must already know its history?"

"Yes."

"What do you know about it yourself, Frank?"

"Not much," was the serious reply. "You know I once told you that my father was much away from home, traveling in the West, where he claimed to have business interests, and it was not till after his death that we knew what his business actually was--that of a note broker--with a pa.s.sion for gambling?"

"Yes, I remember all this."

"In his wanderings, father somehow got hold of that ring, and it is pretty certain that he considered it very valuable, for he sent it to mother, and wrote her to guard it faithfully, and not to let it part from her on any consideration. He said that he would come for it some day; but he never did. When mother died, she gave me the ring, telling me to keep it always. That is as much of the ring's history as is known to me."

"And that is just enough to make the thing a decided mystery. I have heard of magic rings used by East Indian fakirs and magicians. Perhaps this is one of those rings."

Frank smiled a bit, and shook his head.

"Hardly that, I think," he said. "From its appearance, I should say this ring was made by some crude workman in the West."

"In, that case, what can there be about it that is mysterious or valuable?"

"You have asked me something I cannot answer."

"Let's look at the thing."

Bart held out his hand, and Frank removed the ring from his finger, handing it over.

"It slips off altogether too easily," said Hodge. "I should think you would fear losing it."

"It does come off easy, and, for that reason, I have not worn it much till of late."

"Yes; I never noticed it on your hand till a short time ago."

"I have kept it among my valuables."

Hodge looked the ring all over, examining it slowly and carefully.

"There doesn't seem to be anything about it to make a fellow think it so very mysterious," he said, with a shade of disappointment in his voice.

"No."

"It is just a homely, twisted ring, with an old scratched black stone set in it."

"That's right."

"Perhaps the man in black is crazy."

"It is possible."

"In which case the mystery amounts to nothing."

For a few seconds the two lads sat staring at each other. Then Frank removed a pin from some hidden place, and held it toward Bart.

"Here," he said, "take this and see how easily you can scratch that stone."

Hodge took it, and attempted to scratch the black stone that was set in the ring.

"Why, the thing is hard as flint--yes, harder!" he exclaimed. "The pin will not leave a mark upon it, and it has already turned the point of the pin over."

"Still, as you said, the stone is scratched."

"What do you make of that?"

"It strikes me it was not scratched by accident."

Hodge started and whistled.

"Do you imagine these marks were made here intentionally and deliberately?"

"Doesn't it seem that way?"

"Well, it is not impossible."

"If they were made there deliberately and intentionally, cut by some instrument that could mark that hard stone, doesn't it stand to reason that the one who made them did not do all that work for nothing?"

"Of course."

"Then those marks may mean something."

"By jingoes! you are right!"

"This may be known to the man in black, which makes him so fierce to obtain the ring."

"Sure!"

Again the boys stared silently at each other, but there were traces of eager excitement on the faces of both.

"How are you going to find out what those marks mean, Frank?"

"That is a question easier asked than answered."

"Did you ever examine this stone under a microscope?"

"No."

"Then I advise you to do so without delay. These scratches are not very plain to the naked eye, but a microscope may reveal a great secret to you."

As Bart pa.s.sed the ring back, Frank said:

"You are right. My curiosity is thoroughly aroused, and I will examine it under a magnifying gla.s.s at the earliest opportunity."