Chapter IV

           OnDuncan’sreturnfromhisnexttriptotowntherewasabigstore-boxloadedonthebackofhiswagon.Hedrovetothewestentranceoftheswamp,settheboxonastumpthatFreckleshadselectedinabeautiful,shelteredplace,andmadeitsecureonitsfoundationswithatreeatitsback.

           “Itseemsmostapitytonailintothattree,”saidDuncan.“Ihaenathetimetoexamineintothegrainofit,butitlooksasifitmightbearareane.Anyhow,thenailin’winnahurtitdeep,andhavin’thecasebyitwillmakeitsaferifitisaguidane.”

           “Isn’titanoak?”askedFreckles.

           “Ay,”saidDuncan.“Itlookslikeitmightbeaneofthaefine-grainedwhiteanesthatmak’suchgrandfurniture.”

           Whenthebodyofthecasewassecure,Duncanmadeadoorfromthelidandfasteneditwithhinges.Hedroveastaple,screwedonalatch,andgaveFrecklesasmallpadlock—sothathemightfasteninhistreasuressafely.Hemadeashelfatthetopforhisbooks,andlastofallcoveredthecasewithoil-cloth.

           ItwasthefirsttimeinFreckles’lifethatanyoneeverhaddonethatmuchforhispleasure,anditwarmedhisheartwithpurejoy.IftheinterioroftheboxalreadyhadbeencoveredwiththeraresttreasuresoftheLimberlosthecouldhavebeennohappier.

           Whenthebigteamsterstoodbacktolookathisworkhelaughinglyquoted,“’Neat,butno’gaudy,’asMcLeansays.Allwe’re,needingnowisacoatofpainttomakeacupboardthatwouldturnSarahgreenwithenvy.Ye’llfindthatsafean’dry,lad,an’that’sallthat’sneeded.”

           “Mr.