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"And where is Mr. Sarby?" asked the inspector, as they turned to leave the room.,

"The devil-stick!" gasped Jen, pointing a shaking finger at the wall. "The devil-stick!",

Jen started. Evidently David had returned before him in order to see Etwald, and to gain private speech with the doctor, had conducted him to Jaggard's sick-room. For the moment Jen--still suspicious of Sarby's behavior--had it in his mind to follow; but a few minutes of reflection convinced him that this was unnecessary. David did not know all the conversation which had taken place between himself and Isabella, therefore he could inform Etwald of nothing new. But, indeed, the major wondered why David wished to speak privately with the doctor. It looked, to his mind, as though the two men were in league.,

This evidence closed the case for the prosecution, and--as may be guessed--it caused a profound sensation in court. Everyone without exception looked upon the prisoner as guilty, and they considered it futile when David Sarby rose to deliver his speech for the defense. The young man was even paler than usual, and when he rose laid down the devil-stick, at which he had been looking. When on his feet he glanced round the court and caught the gaze of Isabella, who was staring eagerly at him. Then he turned to his client. Dr. Etwald, still composed--even after the frightful evidence which had been given--smiled coldly on his counsel. David shuddered, and picking up the devil-stick spoke sharply and to the point.

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"You've planned the refurnishing of that east wing to suit the style of nearly every girl in Hillsboro since Tom put on long trousers, Bettie Pollard, and they are just as they have been for fifteen years since you did up the whole house," said Mrs. Johnson as she poured a wine-glass half full from one bottle and added a tablespoonful from another.,

"No. I shall marry no one; not even Mr. Sarby, much as my mother wishes me to do so. I live only to avenge the death of Maurice, to recover his body from those who have stolen it. Come, major, tell me what you know.",

"I wonder just what my work will turn out to be?" she said thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to be afraid I haven't any real work of my own. I've tried so hard to get on with the modeling—for I do love it—but it just seems as though I couldn't. That first head that they liked so much, and the study of Ju is about all the sculpture I've got in my system, I reckon. I'm downright ashamed to let them know——",

"Looking for anyone?" she asked briskly, and hardly waiting for the answer, she raised her voice and called through the door of the next room: