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"Well, sir, when I brought a message from Dr. Etwald 'bout that devil-stick--",

"What!" cried his guardian, rising. "Do you dare to sit there and tell me that you are a traitor, a coward, and an ungrateful man?",

I had about decided to burn this book, because I shan't need it any longer, for he says he and Billy and I are going to play so much golf and tennis that I shall keep as thin as he wants me to without any more melting, or freezing, or starving, but perhaps he would like to read the little red book.,

"I didn't. I found it."

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Great was the astonishment throughout the neighborhood when it became known that Dr. Etwald, the clever physician of Deanminster, had been arrested on a double charge of murder and theft of a dead body. Those who did not like him--and they were the majority--rejoiced openly that the assassin of Maurice Alymer had been found in Etwald's person; but there were some that regretted that so brilliant a man should be consigned to a felon's cell, and--possibly in the hereafter--to a felon's doom. But whatever opinions, for or against the prisoner, were held by the good people of Deanminster and the surrounding neighborhood, there was no doubt of one thing: The trial of Max Etwald at the assizes would be the great sensation of the year.,

He was tall, he was thin, with a dark, lean face, and fiery watchful dark eyes. For three years he had been wasting his talents in the neighboring town of Deanminster; when, if intellect were in question, he should have been shouldering his way above the crowd of mediocrities in London. The man was dispassionate, brilliant and persevering; he had in him the makings not only of a great physician, but of a great man; and he was wasting his gifts in a dull provincial town. He was unpopular in Deanminster, owing to the absence of what is termed "a good bedside manner," and the invalids of the cathedral city and Hurstleigh, for he had patients in both places, resented his brusque ways and avoidance of their scandal-mongering tea parties. Also he was a mystery; than which there can be no greater sin in provincial eyes. No one knew who Etwald was, or whence he came, or why he wasted his talents in the desert of Deanminster; and such secret past which he declined to yield up to the most persistent questioner, accentuated the distrust caused by his sombre looks and curt speeches. Provincial society is intolerant of originality.,

"The thief and the murderer!",

"I don't know what to think," cried Jen, in desperation. "Dido or Mrs. Dallas, I don't know which, but one of them, must be guilty. I'll go over to The Wigwam at once."