oulder:

"Wait a bit," he said, briefly. "You say that is the picture of
Rhoda's mother? Now tell me again what her name is."

"Who?--Margeret? Why, her name Margeret Loring, I reckon, but Nelse
did say her right name was 'Caris--Lacaris. Retta Lacaris what she
called when she jest a young gal an' Mahs Tom Loring fust bought
her."

Monroe repeated the name in order to impress it on his memory. He took
a pencil and note book out of his pocket.

Pluto half offered his hand for the little oval frame, for there was
enough light where they stood to see it by, but Monroe slipped it with
the note book into an inner pocket. "The Colonel will want you; you
had better go," he said, turning away, and walking directly from the
house he crossed the lawn out of sight and hearing of the departing
guests. All the gay chatter jarred on him, oppressed as he was with
the certainty of some unknown calamity overhanging those laughing
people on the veranda. What it was he did not know, but he would leave
in the morning.

He had been gone an hour. He was missed, but no one except Masterson
took any special notice of it, and he was wary about asking questions,
remembering Colonel McVeigh's attitude in the morning over the
disputed question. But as he was enjoying a final cigar with Judge
Clarkson on the lawn--the Judge was the very last to leave and was
waiting for his horse--all his suspicions were revived with added
strength as McVeigh strode hurriedly across the veranda towards them.

"Phil, I was looking for you," and his tone betrayed unusual
anxiety reflected in his face as he glanced around to see if there
were possible listeners. But the rooms on the first floor were
deserted--all dark but for a solitary light in the hall. In the
upper rooms little gleams stole out from the sleeping rooms where
the ladies had retired for the night.

"Anything wrong, Colonel?" asked Masterson, speaking in a suppressed
tone and meeting him at the foot of the steps.

"Who is that with you, the Judge?" asked McVeigh first. "Good! I'm
glad you are here. Something astounding has occurred, gentlemen. The
papers, the instructions you brought today, together with some other
documents of importance, have been stolen from my room tonight!"

"Ah-h!" Masterson's voice was scarcely above a whisper. All his
suspicions blazed again. Now he understood Monroe's presence there.

"But, my dear boy," gasped the Judge, thunderstruck at the news, "your
commissio