tles?" Fred asked, as the
other dropped down close beside him.

"Yes, Fred," began the other, in a low voice; "you were so good to
stand up for me when I told you about those pesky opals, that I just
thought after all I'd let you know about some more that's happened."

Fred started, and looked uneasily at the other's long face.

"Does that mean, Bristles, your aunt has been missing more of her
precious stones?" he asked.

Bristles nodded his head in a forlorn fashion.

"Two of 'em gone this time, Fred, and I guess I'm the unluckiest feller
ever, because they disappeared yesterday afternoon; and mom sent me
over with a message to Aunt Alicia about four o'clock."

CHAPTER VI

A SUDDEN AWAKENING

"Well, that's a funny thing, Bristles," Fred remarked, as he allowed
the full force of the other's story to sink into his mind.

"Not so very funny for me, let me tell you, Fred," muttered Bristles.

"Why, of course I didn't mean it that way, you know, old fellow," Fred
hastened to say; "I meant that it was queer. Three times now you've
just happened to drop in to see your aunt, and every time one or more
of her precious stones have disappeared, as if they went up in smoke?"

"Say, perhaps they did!" the other went on, moodily. "Always smells
smoky to me in that house. Then again do you know, Fred, when I see
that old black crow perched on the back of aunty's chair, it somehow
makes me think of haunted houses, it's so spooky."

"Now what do you want me to believe--that the old colored woman sits on
the back of your aunt's chair, and smokes her pipe?" Fred asked,
chuckling a little.

"Oh! shucks! perhaps I am twisted up somehow in trying to tell you what
happened; but then," and Bristles' voice sank into a half whine, "I
just guess any feller would be rattled, if he'd bothered his head as
much as I have the last few days. I meant the old tame crow Aunty's
got, that talks sometimes to beat the band. Now do you know, Fred?"

"Sure I do," replied the other, promptly; "I've never forgotten how
Black Joe looked, blinking his eyes at us when we stood there talking
to your aunt. But you're wrong in one thing, Bristles; it isn't just a
plain, everyday crow at all. She said it was a raven, one of the wise
old kind you read about; and that she brought it across the water.
They're more cunning than our crows; and goodness knows I've always
found _them_ smart enough, when you had a gun."

"Oh! well, crow or raven, wha