"Where was it?"

"On the seashore, some half a mile to the east of the Tuxall place, and
a little beyond."

"Is there a roadway from the Tuxall place to the spot?"

"No; I believe not. But one could go across the fields and through the
barn to the old deserted roadway."

"Ah. There's an old roadway, is there?"

"Yes. It skirts the shore to join Boston Pike about three miles up."

"And how far from this roadway were your son's clothes found?"

"Just a few feet."

"H'm. Any tracks in the roadway?"

"Yes. I recall seeing some buggy tracks and being surprised, because no
one ever drives that way."

"Then it is conceivable that your son's clothes might have been tossed
from a passing vehicle, to the spot where they were discovered."

"Conceivable, certainly. But I can see no grounds for such a
conjecture."

"How far down the road, in this direction, did tracks run?"

"Not beyond the fence-bar opening from the Tuxall field, if that is what
you mean."

"It is, exactly. Do you know this Tuxall?"

"Hardly at all. He is a recent comer among us."

"Well, I shall probably want to make his acquaintance, later."

"Have a care, then. He is very jealous of his precious meteor, and
guards the ruins of the barn, where it lies, with a shot gun."

"Indeed? He promises to be an interesting study. Meantime, I'd like to
look at your son's clothes."

From a closet Mr. Prentice brought out a coat and waistcoat of the
"pepper-and-salt" pattern which is sold by the hundreds of thousands the
whole country over. These the visitor examined carefully. The coat
was caked with mud, particularly thick on one shoulder. He called the
minister's attention to it.

"That would be from lying wet on the shore," said the Reverend Mr.
Prentice.

"Not at all. This is mud, not sand. And it's ground or pressed in. Has
any one tampered with these since they were found?"

"I went through the pockets."

Average Jones frowned. "Find anything?"

"Nothing of importance. A handkerchief, some odds and ends of
string--oh, and a paper with some gibberish on it."

"What was the nature of this gibberish?"

"Why it might have been some sort of boyish secret code, though it was
hardly decipherable enough to judge from. I remember some flamboyant
adjectives referring to something three feet high. I threw the paper
into the waste-basket."

Turning that receptacle out on the table, Average Jones discovered in
the debris a sheet of cheap, ruled p