as a robbed lioness searching for
her whelps, he would have liked to meet the man who would tell him he
hadn't a perfect right to be where he was. Dig, for his part, was not
prepared to raise any such awkward question.

The boys' instinct had told them right. For one of the first things
they beheld, on a corner of the window-sill, apparently put there
hurriedly before starting for the Forum, was a brown-paper parcel,
corresponding exactly with the missing bundle.

It was carefully tied up, and under the string was thrust an envelope
addressed to "Mr Bickers."

Arthur whistled, and Dig ran forward to capture the lost property.

"Steady," said the former warily. "Perhaps it's just a dodge to catch
us. See how it lies, in case we have to put it back."

They took the necessary bearings with all precaution, and then hurried
back with their prize to their own study.

"How long before the Forum's up?" demanded Arthur, depositing the parcel
on the table.

"Twenty minutes," said Dig.

"All serene."

The things had evidently been recently tied up with new string in fresh
brown paper, the wedge of paper and the match-box being rolled up in the
middle of the sack.

"That seems all right," said Arthur, "now let's see the letter."

He carefully slid a pen-holder under the fold of the envelope, so as to
open it without breaking, and extracted the letter, which ran as
follows:--

"Dear Sir,--I send you the three things I told you of. The sack has his
initials on it; the paper belongs to him, as you will see, and he is the
only man in the house who could reach up to put the match-box on the
ledge. Please do not mention my name. My only reason is to get justice
done.

"Yours, truly,

"T.F."

"Oh, the cad!" was the joint exclamation of the two readers as they
perused this treacherous epistle.

"Look alive, now," said Arthur; "cut down as fast as ever you can and
fetch one of those turfs lying on the corner of the grass, you know."

"What's that for?" asked Dig, who felt quite out of the running.

"Never mind. Cut away; there's no time to lose. Don't let anyone see
you."

Dig obeyed, and selected one of the turfs in question, which he
clandestinely conveyed up to his room.

"Now lend a hand to wrap it up," said Arthur. "Don't you see it'll make
a parcel just about the size and weight of the sack? Mind how you tie
it up--a double knot, not a bow."

Dig began to perceive what the sport was at last, an