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"Major gone out, sir," explained Jaggard, to whom Maurice applied for information. "He got a message from Dr. Etwald, and went to see him. Be back to dinner, sir, I b'lieve.",

"As to that," he said, "we are by no means certain that they are the same.",

The others stared at him, and with the skepticism of thoroughly healthy minds refused to attach much importance to Etwald's mysticism. Jen was the first to speak, and he did so in rather a stiff way, quite different from his usual jovial style of conversation.,

Patricia drew in her breath with a gasp. She put her hand on the knob of the door and noiselessly turned it.

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It must be conceded that for an amateur, the major set about his unaccustomed task in a very methodical manner. He offered a reward of five hundred pounds for the detection of the murderer, and a further sum of the like amount to anyone who should discover the thief who had desecrated the chamber of death. These munificent rewards set everybody on the alert, and Jen, without putting down actual money, thus became possessed of some hundreds of spies who would bring him any information likely to assist him in his investigation. Also, the major examined all the servants in the house. He questioned Sampson, the young policeman who had been in the kitchen on the night when the body had been stolen, and finally he paid a visit to the police office at Deanminster, where he saw Mr. Inspector Arkel.,

I have always thought that Judge Wade was really the most wonderful man in Hillsboro, not because he is a judge so young in life that there is only a white sprinkle in his lovely black hair that grows back off his head like Napoleon's and Charles Wesley's, but because of his smile, which you wait for so long that you glow all over when you get it. I have seen him do it once or twice at his mother when he seats her in their pew at church, and once at little Mamie Johnson when she gave him a flower through their fence as he passed by one day last week, but I never thought I should have one all to myself. But there it was, a most beautiful one, long and slow and distinctly mine—at least I didn't think much of it was for Billy. I sat up and blushed as red all over as I do when I first hit that tub of cold water.,

Patricia made a gesture of amused impatience. "You monkey, you aren't thinking of Miss Jinny's hand at all. Where did you get that stuffy word?",

"I know Tom better than I do you," I answered as she fled with the money in her hand. I looked at Ruth Clinton and we both laughed. It is true that a broader sympathy is one of the by-products of sorrow, and a week ago I might have resented Pet to a marked degree instead of giving her the money and a blessing.