m
how the accident happened. Now, one of Jim's infirmities is that he can
only tell the truth when it suits his convenience."

"Many of us are like that," said Stranleigh.

"Well, this time it didn't suit his convenience."

"What did he say?"

"That the boys were having a sort of shooting match. I told him I had
heard the firing, and feared that there had been a battle of some sort.
He said it was the first shot that did for him. They had some bet on as
to who could fire the quickest at a flying mark. In his hurry to get
ready he had mishandled his gun, and sent a bullet through his ear. The
other men had then fired almost simultaneously."

"Miss Armstrong, I fear you are too sceptical. Why shouldn't that be a
true story?"

"Mr. Stranleigh, you quite underrate my intelligence. The wound in
Jim's ear was not caused by the gun he held. In the first place, his ear
would have been blackened with gunpowder, and likely would have been
partly torn off. Secondly, a mishandled gun would have fired upwards.
The bullet that wounded him was fired from a distance by someone higher
up than the spot where Jim stood. The wound was clean cut, slightly
inclining downwards. Besides all that, Jim's bullet, coming from an
old-fashioned rifle, would make a bigger hole. I know that, for you
remember I tended your shoulder, through which his bullet had gone."

"By Jove, Miss Armstrong, if Sherlock Holmes had a daughter, she would
be just about your age. Was there anything else?"

"Yes; I looked at the handkerchief in which he had bound his ear. It was
of a finer cambric than we have ever seen in this district, or indeed,
than I have seen anywhere else. The corner was embroidered with a very
delicately-worked crest."

"A crest?" said Stranleigh, rather breathlessly.

"I asked Jim where he had got this handkerchief. He seemed confused, but
said he had always had it. Bought it once at a five-cent store in
Denver."

Stranleigh could not refrain from laughing.

"You think it cost more than five cents?"

"Yes; I am sure it cost more than twenty-five."

"Perhaps he stole it?"

"Jim might shoot a man, but he'd never steal."

"I think that when you discover the owner of that handkerchief, you will
have solved the mystery," remarked Stranleigh calmly.

"I think so, too," said the girl quietly. "Now I am going to cook your
trout."

The three days following were among the most enjoyable Stranleigh had
ever spent. He asked Miss Arms