ll be in presently, and he can tell you
who bought the stuff. The name signed is Jacob Crouse, however."

"Jacob Crouse," mused Tom, and he slowly shook his head. Yet there was
a gleam of hope in his eyes. "Maybe it isn't him after all."

Tom spent a fretful half hour, waiting for the clerk to come in, and he
was nervous lest some of the school lads enter and question him as to
his presence in the place. For Tom was not anxious that his errand be
known except to his chums. But none from Elmwood Hall came in, and
shortly the clerk arrived. There was a whispered conference between
him and the proprietor, and the clerk addressed Tom.

"You wish to know who bought cyanide, some time ago?" asked the young
man.

"Yes," said Tom. "Can you describe Jacob Crouse?"

"I don't know that he gave me the right name," said the clerk. "In
fact I suspect he didn't. But he was a young fellow, about your own
age and build."

"He was!" exclaimed Tom, and his voice showed disappointment.

"Yes, but he was not so well dressed. In fact he was rather shabby.
He said he wanted the stuff to kill rats, and asked the best way to
prepare it. I tried to sell him some regular rat poison, but he wanted
the cyanide. I told him to mix it with corn meal. He said there were
lots of rats on his father's farm."

"He said that?" cried Tom.

"Yes. Oh, they make up all sorts of stories when they want to get
suspicious stuff, though there's no law here against cyanide. Why, did
some one of your friends poison someone, or commit suicide?"

"Oh, not as bad as that," replied Tom. "Is that all you can tell me
about this--this person?"

[Transcriber's note: The next piece of text has several missing
fragments, which seem to have been caused during printing. I have
indicated the missing text with brackets.]

"Well, about all--hold on, though, he had a big scar on--let me see--on
his left cheek. It extended from his eye almost to his [missing words]
livid, ugly scar."

[missing line]

[missing words] good! [missing words] I'm much obliged to you, and
with a smile of hope our hero hurried from the drug store, followed by
the curious glances of the proprietor and the clerk.

CHAPTER XX

MORE SEEKING

Tom Fairfield hurried on back toward Elmwood Hall. His brain was busy
with many thoughts. At first he felt a spirit of elation.

"A scar--a big scar," he murmured. "Then it couldn't have been him,
unless he got hurt after