urning."

Elsie clapped her hands with delight; her cousin's words were exactly
what she herself had been longing to speak.

"That's just what I've been thinking, Brian!" she cried. "I'm sure
that's right."

"What nonsense!" ejaculated Guy. "You never did hear any one working at
the grindstone. It was a dream."

"I'm not sure about that," answered his cousin. "When I looked at the
grindstone next day there were spots of candle-grease on the wooden
frame."

"What if there were?" interrupted Guy. "Henry may have taken a light in
there late in the afternoon. Because there were a few spots of grease
about, it doesn't prove that some one was working there in the middle of
the night. Besides, supposing the knife was ground on our stone at that
unearthly hour, it doesn't explain anything. It doesn't show what earthly
object there could be in making the blade as thin as possible, and then
throwing it into the pond."

"Oh, of course it doesn't," answered Brian; "but if you're ever going
to get at the explanation of a thing like that, you must begin at the
beginning, and ravel it out bit by bit. I believe it began that night
when Elsie heard the stone turning, and I shall continue to think so
until I have reason to believe otherwise."

"Oh, you're talking nonsense!" said Guy, who could think of no better
reply to make. "Now, let's get on with our work."

It so happened that at the same time the children were talking over the
strange loss and reappearance of the carving-knife, the subject was also
being discussed in the dining-room.

"If I hadn't been quite sure that Guy was speaking the truth, I should
have set it down as his doing," said Mrs. Ormond.

"It's neither of the boys' doing," answered her husband from behind his
newspaper. "I saw that at once."

"How?"

"Why," replied Mr. Ormond, laying down his paper, and reaching for the
knife, which lay on a side table, "it's a difficult matter to grind a
blade as thin as that. No boy did it; at least that's my opinion. It was
done by a man, and one who knew what he was about.

"I shall be at the police court on Monday," the speaker continued after
a pause, "and I have a good mind to ask Evans, the sergeant, to step
round and have a look at it. I'm inclined to think there's more in this
matter than may appear on the surface."

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VII.

SAD NEWS.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Mr. Ormond, opening his morning paper and glancing
at one of th