stranger; and to my amazement he drew up a chair, and took down the
huge picture, and carried it, seemingly without effort, into the
church.

He stepped upon the altar, and lifted the portrait in front of the
window. How he got it to stay there I am not sure--I was too much
taken aback by the procedure to notice such details. There the
picture was; it seemed to fit the window exactly, and the effect was
simply colossal. You'd have to know old de Wiggs to appreciate
it--those round, puffy cheeks, with the afternoon sun behind them,
making them shine like two enormous Jonathan apples! Our leading
banker was clad in decorous black, as always on Sunday mornings, but
in one place the sun penetrated his form--at one side of his chest.
My curiosity got the better of me; I could not restrain the
question, "What is that golden light?"

Said the stranger: "I think that is his heart."

"But that can't be!" I argued. "The light is on his right side; and
it seems to have an oblong shape--exactly as if it were his
wallet."

Said the other: "Where the treasure is, there will the heart be
also."



VI