he girls that raided your berry patch--_but one_."

"All but one gal?"

"Yes, sir. One girl's name was left off the list," Neale said
confidently.

"Oh, dear me! Dear, dear me!" murmured the old farmer, pursing his lips
and eyeing Neale very gravely.

"And that particular girl is going to have one of the best parts in the
show they are giving for the hospital benefit," Neale pursued.

"You don't say so?" said old Bob Buckham, still seriously.

"And that very part is just what would be given our Aggie if she were
not in disgrace--yes, sir!"

"Not little Pretty?" demanded the farmer.

"Yes, sir."

"My! my!"

"This one girl whose name did not reach Mr. Marks was just as guilty as
the others. That's right, Mr. Buckham. And she's got out of it----"

"Hi!" exclaimed the farmer, sharply. "You're accusin' her of makin' all
the trouble for her mates."

"If you didn't, Mr. Buckham," said Neale, boldly.

"I most sartainly didn't!" exclaimed Mr. Buckham. "You know I wouldn't,
Neale O'Neil; don't you?"

"I never did think you did so mean a thing," declared Neale, frankly.

"But somebody told your teacher."

"Wrote him."

"And he thinks I done it?"

"Whoever it was must have signed your name to the letter."

"Nobody but marm does that," said the old man, quickly. "'Strawberry
Farm'--that is what we call the place, you know, Neale."

"Yes, sir."

"An' I got it printed on some letter paper, and marm always writes my
letters for me on that paper. Then, if it's a _very_ pertic'lar one, I
sign it myself. But you know, Neale, I ain't no schollard. I handle a
muck-fork better'n I do a pen."

"I know--yes, sir," agreed the boy.

"Now," continued the farmer, vigorously, "you find out if this here
letter that was writ, and your teacher received, was writ on one of our
letterheads. Of course, marm never done it; but--p'raps---- Wal! you
find out if it re'lly did come from Strawberry Farm, and if Bob
Buckham's name is onto it. That's all."

And Mr. Buckham refused to discuss the matter any further at that time.

The busy fall days were flying. It was already the middle of October.
Hallowe'en was in prospect and Carrie Poole, who lived in a modernized
farmhouse out of town on the Buckshot Road, planned to give a big
Hallowe'en party. Of course the two Corner House girls and Neale O'Neil
were invited.

Looking forward to the party divided interest among the older girls with
the preparations for the performance of