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"Yes; but I did not know that until later on. When my mother disappeared Dido re-entered the house. At once--terrified by my mother's action--I ran down the little path which leads to the gate and followed her out onto the road. She went into your grounds by the postern in the wall. I saw her cross the lawn, and enter the smoking-room, wherein a lamp was burning. When she came out it was with the devil-stick in her hand. I recognized it by the golden handle. I reached home before she did, and again hid on the veranda. Dido reappeared as my mother came up the walk, and took the devil-stick from her. Then she led her indoors." Patricia grinned. "You two geniuses understand each other, I see. Might a humdrum mortal remind you that David is just about sliding into the train shed at this moment?" "Well, yes," returned Jen, with a thought upon the rapping of Isabella upon the window. "It does not take much to waken me.".

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Doris smiled wanly. She laid an impulsive hand on Patricia's arm and opened her pretty lips, but before the words came she evidently obeyed another differing impulse, for she underwent a subtle change, an imperceptible hardening that was so delicately veiled by her still gracious manner that Patricia had only a baffling sense of being gently shut out from her real confidence. "I got this at Kumassie," explained Jen, when he had fully exhibited the gruesome mechanism of the devil-stick. "It belonged to the high priest. Whenever he or the king disliked any man who was too powerful to be openly slain, they used this wand. What excuse they made I don't know, but I suppose it had something to do with fetish worship. However, the slightest touch of this needle produces death." "Do you see the hour, infants?" she demanded. "Tomorrow is a full day, and we must get to our beds. Toddle, Judy dear. If you aren't asleep in ten minutes you'll have to take a nap in the afternoon." "They killed Maurice!".