Mr. Cleek?" questioned the major, eagerly.

"Yes, plenty of them," replied he. "I rather fancy we shall not have
to put you to the trouble of housing us at the Abbey to-night, Major.
The case is a shallower one than I fancied at first. Shouldn't be
surprised if we cleared it all up inside of the next two hours."

"Well, I'll be--dithered!" exclaimed the major, aghast. "Do you mean
to tell me that you've got at the bottom of the thing? That you've
found something that leads you to suspect where the animal is?"

"More than suspect, Major. I know where she is. By half-past seven
o'clock to-night--if you want me to make you a promise--I'll put her
bridle into your hands and she will be at the other end of it!"

"You will?"

"I certainly will, Major--my word for it."

"Well, of all the dashed----I'm done! I'm winded! I'm simply
scooped dry! Where on earth did you get your clues, man? You
never did anything but walk about that I could see; and now to
declare----I say, MacTavish, did you hear that? Did you hear what he
has promised--eh?"

"I heard," responded the captain with a laugh. "But I'll believe when
I see. I say, Mr. Inspector, where did you find the secret? Hidden
between Farrow's fingers or wrapped around Chocolate Maid's legs?"

"Both," said Cleek serenely. "Tell you something else if you care
to hear it. I know who poisoned the dog the other night. Farrow did
it himself."

The major's exclamation of indignation was quite lost in the peal of
the captain's laughter.

"Hawkshaw out-Hawkshawed!" cried he derisively. "Find out that, too,
from Farrow's fingers?"

"Oh, no--that would be impossible. He washed them before he went
out that night and they've been washed by the nurse several times
since. I found it out from the dog himself--and he's not the only dog
in this little business, believe me--though I'm willing to stake
my reputation and my life upon it that neither one nor the other
of them had any hand in spiriting away the missing horse."

"Who did, then, Mr. Cleek? who did?"

"Tom Farrow and Tom Farrow alone, Major," began Cleek--and then
stopped suddenly, interrupted by a painful circumstance.

By this time they had reached the foot of the stairs and were filing
out into the stable again, and there by the open door Lady Mary
Norcross was standing endeavouring to soothe and to comfort a weeping
girl--Maggie McFarland, the dairymaid from Nairn.

"Oh, but say he winna dee--say he winna!" she was