ee minutes, and then
hurriedly hid the sack away in the cupboard.

He had still one more point to clear up. He pulled the wedge of paper
out of his pocket and began nervously to unroll it. It was frayed and
black where the door had ground it against the floor; but, on beginning
to open it, it turned out to be a portion of a torn newspaper. It was a
_Standard_ of February 4--two days ago--and Arthur whistled again and
turned pale as he saw a stamp and a postmark on the front page, and read
a fragment of the address--"...ford, Esquire, Grandcourt."

"That settles it clean!" he muttered to himself. "I say! who'd have
thought it!"

Then he sat down and went over the incidents of the last twenty-four
hours.

Last night--it is sad to have to record it--Arthur had been out in the
big square at half-past nine, when he should have been in bed. He had
been over to find a ball which he had lost during the morning while
playing catch with Dig out of the window. On his way back--he
remembered it now--he had had rather a perilous time. First of all he
had nearly run into the arms of Branscombe, the captain of Bickers's
house, who was inconveniently prowling about at the time, probably in
search of some truant of his own house. Then in doubling to avoid this
danger he had dimly sighted Mr Bickers himself, taking a starlight walk
on Railsford's side of the square. Finally, in his last bolt home, he
had encountered Railsford stalking moodily under the shadow of his own
house, and too preoccupied to notice, still less to challenge, the
truant.

All this Arthur remembered now, and, carrying his mind a day or two
further back, he recalled Mr Bickers's uninvited visit to the house--
Arthur had painful cause to remember it--and Railsford's evident
resentment of the intrusion, and the threatenings of slaughter which had
been bandied about between the two houses ever since.

"Why," said Arthur to himself, "it's as clear as a pikestaff. I see it
all now. Bickers said it was about a quarter to ten when he was
collared. No fellows would be about then, and certainly no one would
know that he would be passing our door, except Marky. Marky must have
been actually hanging about for him when I passed! What a pity I didn't
stop to see the fun! Yes, he'd got his sack ready, and had jammed the
door open with this paper, and got his matches handy. Bickers would
never see him till he came close up, and then Marky would have the sack