m look?"

"I didn't see him," answered the child.

"H'm!" sniffed Mrs. Batholommey.

"But, Willem," urged McPherson, "you must have seen _something_."

"I--I thought I saw his hat on the peg," hesitated the boy.

All eyes turned involuntarily and in some fear toward the hat-rack.

"No," went on Willem, looking at the vacant peg, "it's gone now."

"Doctor," remonstrated Mrs. Batholommey, impatiently, "this is so silly!
It----"

"I wonder," whispered Kathrien to McPherson over the boy's head, "I
wonder if he really _did_--do you think----?"

She did not finish the sentence. A growing look of disappointment and
troubled doubt on McPherson's grim face made her reluctant to voice the
question that her mind had formed.

"Willem!" said the Dead Man earnestly, pointing towards the
pieced-together picture as he spoke. "Look! Show it to her!"

"Look!" echoed Willem, pointing in turn to the photograph. "Look, Miss
Kathrien! That's what I wanted to show you when you called to me to go
to bed."

"Why!" exclaimed Kathrien, following the direction of the eager little
finger. "It's his mother! It's Anne Marie!"

"His mother!" echoed Mrs. Batholommey, focussing her near-sighted eyes
on the likeness. "Why, so it is! Well, of all things! I didn't know
you'd heard from Anne Marie."

"We haven't," said Kathrien.

"Then how did the photograph get into the house?"

"I don't know," answered the girl. "I never saw the picture before. It
is none we've had. How strange! We've all been waiting for news of Anne
Marie. Even her own mother doesn't know where she is, and hasn't heard
from her in years. Or--or maybe Marta has received the picture since
I----"

"I'll ask her," said Mrs. Batholommey, all eagerness now that something
tangible was before her.

She bustled off into the kitchen in search of the old housekeeper.

"If Marta didn't get it," mused Kathrien, her face strained with
puzzling thoughts, "who _did_ have this picture? And why weren't the
rest of us told? Every one knew how eager we were for news of Anne
Marie. And who tore up the picture? Did you, Willem?"

"No!" declared the boy. "It _was_ lying here, torn. I mended it."

"But," persisted Kathrien, "there's been no one at this desk,--except
Frederik.--Except Frederik," she repeated, half under her breath.

Mrs. Batholommey came back from her kitchen interview, bubbling with
importance.

"No," she announced, "Marta hasn't heard a word from Anne Marie. And