oys. They were John Walters and
Charlie Dean--two chums who were always first to be around when there
was anything unusual going on, or to be found. It was they who
discovered the fire in the foundry in time to have it put out. It was
they who knew where the tramps were hiding who had been stealing from
the village stores, and now Mary wondered what they had discovered.
She left the gate swinging open and walked down to meet them.

"What is it, boys?"

"We--we--found these--and--there's something happened," panted the
boys, both speaking at once.

She took the hat of white straw from John's hand. "Why! This is Peter
Junior's hat! Where did you find it?" She turned it about and saw
dark red stains, as if it had been grasped by a bloody hand--finger
marks of blood plainly imprinted on the rim.

"And this, Mrs. Ballard," said Charlie, putting Peter Junior's stick
in her hand, and pointing to the same red stains sunken into the knob.
"We think there's been a fight and some one's been hit with this."

She took it and looked at it in a dazed way. "Yes. He was carrying
this in the place of his crutch," she said, as if to herself.

"We think somebody's been pushed over the bluff into the river, Mrs.
Ballard, for they's a hunk been tore out as big as a man, from the
edge, and it's gone clean over, and down into the river. We can see
where it is gone. And it's an awful swift place."

She handed the articles back to the boys.

"Sit down in the shade here, and I'll bring you some sweet apples, and
if any one comes by, don't say anything about it until I have time to
consult with Mr. Ballard."

She hurried back and passed quickly around the house, and on to her
husband, who was repairing the garden fence.

"Bertrand, come with me quickly. Something serious has happened. I
don't want Betty to hear of it until we know what it is."

They hastened to the waiting boys, and together they slowly climbed
the long path leading to the old camping place. Bertrand carried the
stick and the hat carefully, for they were matters of great moment.

"This looks grave," he said, when the boys had told him their story.

"Perhaps we ought to have brought some one with us--if anything--"
said Mary.

"No, no; better wait and see, before making a stir."

It was a good half hour's walk up the hill, and every moment of the
time seemed heavily freighted with foreboding. They said no more until
they reached the spot where the boys had found t