d
listening, listening and thumping. He paused suddenly.

"Where was Miss Mollie standing when you last saw her?" he demanded,
turning to the group.

"There on the south side," answered Olive.

"Something has been there against the wall for some time, hasn't there?
I see a mark on the wall."

"I don't recall whether or not there was anything there," answered Mr.
Presby.

"Yes, there was an old dresser there. I moved it aside to-day to get
some things that had fallen behind it. We were cleaning out the garret.
That's the dresser over yonder," Olive informed him.

The young man did not look at the piece of furniture indicated by Miss
Presby. Instead, he strode over to the point where the dresser had stood
for no one knew how long. It was a dresser belonging to some of the
Presby ancestors. It never had been disturbed during the present owner's
occupancy.

Stevens began thumping over every inch of the wall at that point. He
varied his investigations finally by trying the wainscoting on either
side. The latter to his keen ears gave out a different sound. He turned
sharply.

"Bring me a maul, if you have one."

Mr. Presby directed one of the farm hands to bring one from the
woodshed. In the meantime the others in the attic watched in breathless
silence as Stevens pursued his investigations.

"You haven't heard them call or cry out?"

"No," answered Olive.

Ruth had said scarcely a word. She had appeared to be crushed upon
hearing of Mollie's disappearance. She had answered questions briefly
and with apparent great effort. But now her eyes were following every
movement of Bob Stevens.

A commotion on the stairs caused Bob to stride over to the door. It was
the man with the maul, a heavy tool used for driving fence posts and
other similar work. Bob took it from him and started for the place where
the dresser had formerly stood. He halted just before reaching his
objective point. The others in the chamber were crowding about him.

"I would suggest that you people stand back," he said. "We don't know
what might happen. I might loose my grip on the maul. I don't want to
injure anyone."

The "people" shrank back out of the way.

"I'm going to do some damage, Mr. Presby. At least I think I am."

Richard Presby nodded.

Bob stepped close to the wall, moved back three or four feet, then
slowly swung the maul in a circle and let drive with all the force at
his command against the side of the wall. The maul lan