“You know who the Lenape are, Frank?” said his father. “That’s what they call the Indians that used to live around Manhattan. You hardly see any now. What was left of them scattered, joined larger tribes, went west. There’s quite a few in Ohio, I believe. But one group stayed together and settled at the far end of Lake Erie. The Turtle clan, they’re called. There’s not a lot of them, and they don’t give trouble. Keep to themselves, mostly.”

“So her people were around when our family first came to Manhattan?”

“Probably.” He gazed down at her. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

Frank didn’t answer, but then the girl turned and stared into his eyes, and he felt awkward, and looked away.

“She’s all right, I guess,” he said.

“You want my wampum belt, don’t you?” his father said to the girl. He used a calm, friendly voice, the same as when he was talking to the dog at home. “Well, you can’t have it.”

“Can she understand you, Pa?” asked Frank.

“No idea,” said his father. Then something caught his eye. “Hmm,” he said. “What’s that?” And he signed to the girl that he wanted to look at an object hanging round her neck. Frank could see that the girl didn’t want him to, but since his father had let her look at his belt, she couldn’t very well refuse.

Without making any sudden movement, his father reached forward.

It was so neatly made. Two tiny rings of wood glued together formed a little double-sided frame, with a cross of twine binding them together for extra security. A thin leather thong passing through the frame made a loop, so that the girl could hang it round her neck. The precious object in the little frame gleamed softly in the light as his father held it up and examined it.

“Well, I’m damned,” he said. “Do you know what this is, Frank?”

“Looks like a new dollar.”

“It is and it isn’t. We’ve been minting US dollars one way or another for forty years now, but this is older. It’s a Dutch dollar. A lion dollar, they used to call them.”

“I never heard of that.”

“People still used them when I was a boy, but they were so old and worn by then, we called them dog dollars. This one’s never been in circulation, I’d swear. It must be a hundred and fifty years old—maybe more—but you can see it’s still like new.” He shook his head in wonderment, and handed it to Frank.

Frank looked at the coin. He could see there was a splendid lion depicted on the front and a knight of some sort on the back. He gave it back to his father.