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Griffin made a face over a sip of over-heated cocoa. "Just as you please," she murmured benevolently. "Make the best of it, like a good child. Charity is the chief Christian virtue and an ornament to all. Are you going in for the prize design, Howes? I hear that it's open to the whole class.",

"Everything goes so smoothly," she confided to Miss Jinny one day at the end of the fortnight. "It sounds monotonous, but I don't mean it that way at all. We're all so naturally polite and agreeable. We don't seem to have to force ourselves a bit.",

"Good girl, Judith!" cried Patricia, pulling the stool with its burden nearer to the light. "I'll plunge in right away and get it blocked in tonight. Do you know where I put that other package of modeling-wax, Elinor?",

Lady Meg was dressed in black out of regard for the dead man, and she looked worn, red-eyed and very dejected. But in coming forward to greet the major, her fine blue eyes lighted up with the fire of hope, and it was with something of her old impetuosity--quenched since the death of Maurice--that she gave him her hand and repeated her last remark.

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Again Miss Jinny interrupted. "I got your negligees and all from Mrs. Hudson this morning," she chuckled. "She knows you won't be back, and she's just as well pleased, for she's a good chance to rent your rooms right away, and I told her to go ahead. She'll keep your things till tomorrow or the next day. Now, come along and choose bunks, though there isn't much choice, for there is only one big room with three beds in it. Mama and I are right next to you, you see.",

"But what are you talking of?" broke in Jen, impetuously. "You say that my poor boy died from blood-poisoning. How else could he have come by that, save through being touched or struck with the devil-stick? No one in the neighborhood was likely to possess any weapon likely to corrupt the blood. If Maurice had been stabbed, or shot, or if his head had been smashed in, I could understand the crime--or rather the motive for the crime--better; but as it is, the person who stole the devil-stick must have killed him.",

"Don't do that!" I exclaimed, and before I knew it I had taken hold of his hand, and had it in both of mine. "I know I look as if I was shrunk or laced, but I'm not! I was going to tell you all about it. I'm really inches bigger in the right place, and just—just 'controlled,' the woman called it, in the wrong place.",

"How would you manage it, Sherlock?" asked Patricia. "Give us a hint of your method, and we may be able to locate the fiend ourselves."