isters? Why didn't they come to-day?"

Neale remained outside to speak with Mr. Buckham for some minutes. The
old farmer, with his silver-bowed spectacles on his nose looked hard at
the letter Neale had brought.

"Not that I kin read it," he said ruefully, "or could if it was writ in
letters of gold. But I kin see it ain't marm's hand of write--no, sir."

"I was very sure of that," Neale said quickly. "Let me read it to you,
sir. You see it's written on your own stationery."

"I see that," admitted the farmer. "Oh, yes; I see that."

Neale began:

"'_Mr. Curtis G. Marks_,
"'_Principal Milton High School._

"'DEAR SIR: Mr. Robert Buckham wishes to bring to your attention
the fact that on May twenty-third last, a party of your girls,
including the members of the first basket ball team, on their
way home from Fleeting, were delayed by an accident to the car,
right beside his strawberry field; and that the girls named
below entered the field without permission, and picked and ate a
quantity of berries, beside destroying some vines. Mr. Buckham
wishes to call your serious attention to the matter and may yet
take steps to punish the culprits himself.'"

Then followed the names of all the girls whom Mr. Marks considered it
his duty to punish. There was no signature at all to the letter; but it
purported to come from the old farmer, and to be written at his
instance.

"I dunno as ye kin call it forgery," muttered Mr. Buckham; "but it's
blamed mean--that's what it is! It gives me a black eye with these gals,
and the gals a black eye with the teacher. Sho! it's a real mean thing
to do."

"But who did it?" demanded Neale, earnestly.

"Ya-as! That's the question," returned Mr. Bob Buckham. "If we knowed
that----"

"Are you sure we don't know it?"

The old man eyed him contemplatively. "You suspect somebody," he said.

"Well! and so do you," declared the boy, warmly. "Only you've got some
evidence, and we haven't."

"Humph!"

"You must know who would have a chance to get your letter paper and
write such a letter as that?"

"Humph!" repeated the old man, reflectively.

"I don't know how that girl came to be out here. But you know you saw
her--and like enough she spoke of the strawberry raid--and she went in
to see Mrs. Buckham--and she saw the writing paper----"

All the time that Neale was drawling out these phrases he was watching
the old farmer's grim face