d
Mr. Dugdale to the house when he was seized with a sudden attack of
sciatica in one of his lower limbs. It did not take Hugh, with an
occasional sentence of explanation from his eager chum, who wanted to
be set right in the eyes of the good madame, long to tell how Thad
chanced to discover the spoon among many other things in Owen's "den,"
and what a host of fears its presence there had aroused in their
breasts.

Then he reached the point in his narrative where Thad conceived the
bold idea of appropriating the spoon during Owen's absence, and letting
the old lady see the same, knowing full well that if she recognized it
as one of her missing souvenir mementoes, the case would look
exceedingly dark for Owen.

Madame Pangborn's face took on a radiant look after she had learned all.

"I have never been able to believe that boy could be guilty of such an
atrocious deed," she hastened to say, emphatically. "I flatter myself
that I can read boys as well as any one, and in his eyes there lies
only truth, and an ardent desire to accomplish great things that have
long been burning in his soul. But, nevertheless, the circumstantial
evidence was so strong that it has caused me some sleepless nights.
Now I know Owen is innocent, I shall be satisfied. I would sooner lose
all my spoons ten times over than find that he had yielded to a sudden
and irresistible temptation."

"But," said Thad, in sore perplexity, "the three spoons are gone,
there's no doubt about that; and if Owen didn't take them who did?"

"Please let the matter drop," expostulated the old lady, hastily. "I
am satisfied to know the boy is innocent. I shall immediately put the
rest of my spoons away, so that they may not tempt any one again."

"But it wouldn't be right to give the hunt up so easily as that, you
know, lady," complained Thad. "We've started in to find the thief, and
our motto is never to turn back once we've put our hands to the plough.
Hugh, don't you say the same?"

"I certainly do," affirmed the other boy. "And while about it, perhaps
I ought to tell Mrs. Pangborn how I at one time even began to imagine
the thief was a thing of green and yellow feathers, and a hooked bill,
otherwise known as Pretty Polly."

At that, the old lady seemed highly interested.

"Oh! such a thought never occurred to me, Hugh!" she hastily exclaimed.
"Could it be possible, do you think?" and she glanced apprehensively
toward the corner of the library, wher