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Patricia gave a happy sigh. "It'll be good to have him around again," she said appreciatively. "I never knew how weak in the knees I was until this very moment. Things are bound to go right with Bruce hovering around. I hope Elinor sees him. She's feeling mighty shaky right now, I fancy.",

In the meantime, while Sarby was indulging in this enigmatical soliloquy. Major Jen was pursuing his way toward the room of Jaggard. Despairing of obtaining information from David he thought it possible to learn the truth--at all events of that fatal night--from Jaggard. Honestly speaking the major was puzzled by the conduct of his ward. Hitherto, he had always considered David to be an honest man, but at the present time his conduct savored of duplicity. Did he know of anything relative to the triple crime which had been committed? If so, why did he not speak? Finally, was David also under the fatal influence of Dr. Etwald--the man who, Jen verily believed, was the source of all these woes?,

"You--you--you forbid me!",

Elinor thanked her cordially, while Patricia almost dislocated her neck trying to get a glimpse of the big canvas that protruded from the locker while still keeping far enough behind Elinor for her curiosity to pass unnoticed.

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Across the lawn there crept a wizen, gray-haired little man, with a cringing manner. He was white, but darkish in the skin, and there was something negroid about his face. This dwarfish little creature was a tramp, who had become a pensioner of Isabella's. He had attached himself to her like some faithful dog, and rarely failed to present himself at least once a day.,

"Hush!" she cautioned, slipping an absent hand into Judith's quivering palm. "Bruce is talking. Oh, isn't he dear, to say nice things of each of us. It's like commencement time, Ju, isn't it? All the good little girls get prizes, but I wish he wouldn't go back to that honorable mention of mine. I feel like an impostor.",

"Still there is hope," said Isabella, recognizing the occasion for prompt action. "We shall speak to Major Jen and ask him to send the police after this wretched woman.",

I withered him with a look, or rather tried to wither him, for Tom is no mimosa bud.