get, likely to throw
light on the matter of inquiry, is Richard Darke's double-barrelled gun,
with the clothes he wore on the day fatal to Clancy. On these there is
no blood; but while they are looking for it, something comes under their
eyes, almost equally significant of strife.

Through the coat-skirt is a hole, ragged, and recently made. Several
pronounce it a bullet-hole; further declaring the ball to have been
discharged from a rifle.

For certain, a singular discovery!

But like all the others that have been made, only serving to perplex
them. It is rather in favour of the accused; giving colour to the idea,
that between him and Clancy there has been a fight, with shots fired
from both sides. The question is, "has it been a fair one?"

To negative this, a bit of adjunct evidence is adduced, which goes
against the accused. The coat, with the perforated skirt, is _not_ the
one worn by him on the day before, when out assisting in the search;
while it is that he had on, the day preceding, when Clancy came not
home. Ephraim Darke's domestics, on being sternly interrogated, and
aside, disclose this fact; unaware how greatly their master may desire
them to keep it concealed.

Still, it is not much. A man might have many reasons for changing his
coat, especially for the dress of two different days. It would be
nothing, but for the conjoint circumstance of the shot through the
skirt. This makes it significant.

Another item of intelligence, of still more suspicious nature, is got
out of the domestics, whose stern questioners give them no chance to
prevaricate. Indeed, terrified, they do not try.

Their young "Massr Dick" had on a different pair of boots the day he
went out hunting, from those worn by him, when, yesterday, he went
searching.

The latter are in the hands of the sheriff, but the former are missing--
cannot be found anywhere, in or about the house!

All search for them proves idle. And not strange it should; since one
is in the side-pocket of Sime Woodley's surtout, the other having a like
lodgment in that of Ned Heywood.

The two hunters, "prospecting" apart, found the boots thickly coated
with mud, concealed under a brush pile, at the bottom of the peach
orchard. Even the sheriff does not know what bulges out the coat-skirts
of the two backwoodsmen.

Nor is he told there or then. Sime has an object in keeping that secret
to himself and his companion; he will only reveal it, when t