o the window. And now I will tell you how I should
set to work to find him. I should have every bathing-place in the
river running through the town--there is a river--carefully watched
by detectives. In this weather" (the autumn was an unusually warm one)
"boys of that class often paddle and sometimes bathe. If they watch
close enough, they will probably find a boy with a missing toe joint
among the number."

"What a good idea," said Geoffrey. "I will telegraph to the lawyers at
once. I certainly believe that you have got the clue."

And as it turned out afterwards Beatrice had got it; her suppositions
were right in almost every particular. The boy, who proved to be the son
of a pedlar who had recently come into the town, was found wading, and
by a clever trick, which need not be detailed, frightened into telling
the truth, as he had previously frightened himself into holding his
tongue. He had even, as Beatrice conjectured, taken off his boots to
creep up to the window, and as he ran away in his fright, had dropped
them into a ditch full of water. There they were found, and went far to
convince the jury of the truth of his story. Thus it was that Beatrice's
quick wit laid the foundations of Geoffrey's great success.

This particular Monday was a field day at the Vicarage. Jones had proved
obdurate; no power on earth could induce him to pay the L34 11s. 4d. due
on account of tithe. Therefore Mr. Granger, fortified by a judgment duly
obtained, had announced his intention of distraining upon Jones's hay
and cattle. Jones had replied with insolent defiance. If any bailiff,
or auctioneer, or such people came to sell his hay he would kill him, or
them.

So said Jones, and summoned his supporters, many of whom owed tithe, and
none of whom wished to pay it, to do battle in his cause. For his part,
Mr. Granger retained an auctioneer of undoubted courage who was to
arrive on this very afternoon, supported by six policemen, and carry out
the sale. Beatrice felt nervous about the whole thing, but Elizabeth
was very determined, and the old clergyman was now bombastic and now
despondent. The auctioneer arrived duly by the one o'clock train. He
was a tall able-bodied man, not unlike Geoffrey in appearance, indeed at
twenty yards distance it would have been difficult to tell them apart.
The sale was fixed for half-past two, and Mr. Johnson--that was the
auctioneer's name--went to the inn to get his dinner before proceeding
to