it you're wearing?"

"Damn!" exploded Farley in sudden enlightenment.

"Just so. Your waistcoat got mixed with the boy's clothes, which are of
the same common pattern, and was tossed out on the beach with his coat."

"Well, I didn't leave a card in it, did I?" retorted the other.

"Something just as good."

"The ad, Tim!" cried the woman. "Don't you remember, you couldn't find
the rough draft you made while we were waiting?"

"That's right, too," he said. "It was in that vest-pocket. But it didn't
have no name on it."

"Then, that," put in the Reverend Peter Prentice, "was the scrawled
nonsense--"

"Which you--er--threw into the waste-basket," drawled Average Jones with
a smile.

"Those were not Bailey's clothes at all?"

"The coat was his; not the waistcoat. His waistcoat may have fallen out
of the buggy, or it may be there yet."

"But what does all this talk of people at work in the dark, and arson,
and a mysterious creature tied in a tree lead to?"

"It leads," said Average Jones, "to a very large rock, much scorched,
and with a peculiar carving on it, which now lies imbedded in the earth
beneath Tuxall's barn."

"If you've seen that," said Farley, "it's all up."

"I haven't seen it. I've inferred it. But it's all up, nevertheless."

"Serves us right," said the woman disgustedly. "I wish we'd never heard
of Tuxall and his line of bunk."

"Mystification upon mystification!" cried the clergyman. "Will some one
please give a clue to the maze?"

"In a word," said Average Jones. "The Harwick meteor."

"What connection--"

"Pardon me, one moment. The 'live thing' in the tree was a captive
balloon. The box on the ground was a battery. The wire from the battery
was connected with a firework bomb, which, when Tuxall pressed the
switch, exploded, releasing a flaming 'dropper.' About the time the
'dropper' reached the earth Tuxall lighted up his well-oiled barn. All
Harwick, having had its attention attracted by the explosion, and seen
the portent with its own eyes, believed that a huge meteor had fired
the building. So Tuxall and Company had a well attested wonder from the
heavens. That's the little plan which Bailey's presence threatened to
wreck. Is it your opinion that the stars are inhabited, Prentice?"

"What!" cried the minister, gaping.

"Stars--inhabited--living, sentient creatures."

"How should I know!"

"You'd be interested to know, though, wouldn't you?"

"Why, certainly. Any one woul