er
while the thief was exploring the house.

Madge did not like to mention to Mr. Preston that David Brewster might
be able to give him some information about the burglary; for Madge
remembered having seen David run toward the house at about the time the
fire was started. He did not come back for some minutes afterward. Yet,
as David did not speak of his presence in the house to Mr. Preston or
to any one else, she did not feel that it was her place to speak of it.
David might have some reason for his silence which he would explain
later on.

Miss Betsey Taylor was now more than ever convinced that the same thief
who had robbed her of various small sums on the houseboat had but
completed his work. How the robber had pursued her to Mr. Preston's home
she did not explain. But she certainly cast aside with scorn Madge's
suggestion that no one had stolen from her while she was aboard the
"Merry Maid." She had only miscounted her money, as many a woman has
done before, Madge had contended. Miss Betsey had been fearful that the
little captain might be right before the final disappearance of her
money bag. But now she regretted, far more than her money, the loss of
the few family jewels that she had inherited from her thrifty New
England grandmothers.

David Brewster stood at his little back window, watching Madge, Phyllis,
Lillian, Eleanor, Harry Sears and Jack Bolling mount their horses for a
long afternoon's ride over to some old sulphur springs a few miles from
the Preston estate. The party was to eat supper at the springs and to
ride home before bed time. Mrs. Preston, Miss Jenny Ann and Miss Betsey
Taylor were already driving out of the yard in Mrs. Preston's old
phaeton. They were to be the advance guard of the riding party, as no
one except their hostess knew the route they should take.

Mrs. Preston had invited David to drive with her, as he was not able to
use his injured hands sufficiently to guide a riding horse, but David
had refused. The party were to be away for some time. Mr. Preston would
be out on the farm, looking after his harvesting. David Brewster had
other plans for the afternoon.

Once the others were fairly out of the yard the boy found an old slouch
hat in his shabby suit case. He pulled it well down over his face. Then
he got into an old coat that he had been ashamed to wear before the new
friends, but it served his present purpose. Inside his coat pocket David
thrust a small, flat object that,