For Flint, as the carpenter of the old homestead, had discovered the existence of a bricked closet in the wall of father's study, partitioned it off so that he could break into it without detection and rifle it at his leisure, and who had thus carried off that part of grandfather's hoard which father had concealed there.
He knew it could never be missed by the descendants.

But, through haste or ignorance, he DID NOT TOUCH THE PAPERS and documents also hidden there.

And THEY told of the existence of grandfather's second cache, or hiding-place, beneath this hearth, and were left for me to discover." He coolly relit his pipe, fixed his eyes on Marie without apparently paying attention to the breathless scrutiny of the others, and went on: "Flint, alias Pierre a Fusil, alias Gunn, died a maniac.

I resolved to test the truth of his story.

I came here.