for you in the world. You
know that, dearie. But if the law feels that Harry must be locked up I
wouldn't like to interfere."

"Oh, Aunt Mary!"

"Besides, he says he did quarrel with your father," went on Miss
Carwell. "And he won't say what it was about. I don't want to talk about
any one, Vi, but it does look suspicious for Mr. Bartlett."

"Oh, Aunt Mary! Oh, I'll never forgive you for that!" and poor Viola
broke into tears.

They left the courtroom and returned to The Haven. Harry Bartlett sent a
hastily written note to Viola, asking her to suspend judgment and trust
in him, and then he was taken to the county jail by the sheriff--being
assured that he would be treated with every consideration and lodged in
one of the witness rooms.

"Isn't there some process by which we could free him?" asked Viola.
"Seems to me I've heard of some process--a habeas corpus writ, or
something like that."

"Often persons, who can not be gotten out of the custody of the law in
any other way, may be temporarily freed by habeas corpus proceedings,"
said Colonel Ashley. "In brief that means an order from the court,
calling on the sheriff, or whoever has the custody of a prisoner, to
produce his body in court. Of course a live body is understood in such
cases.

"But such an expedient is only temporary. Its use is resorted to in
order to bring out certain testimony that might be the means of freeing
the accused. In this case, if Harry persisted in his refusal not to
tell about the quarrel, the judge would have no other course open but to
return him to jail. So I can't see that a habeas corpus would be of any
service."

"In that case, no," sighed Viola. "But, oh, Colonel Ashley, I am sure
something can be done. You must solve this mystery!"

"I am going to try, my dear Viola. I'll try both for your sake and that
of the memory of your father. I loved him very much."

The day passed, and night settled down on the house of death. Throughout
Lakeside and Loch Harbor, as well as the neighboring seaside places,
talk of the death of Mr. Carwell under suspicious circumstances
multiplied with the evening editions of many newspapers.

Colonel Ashley in his pleasant room at The Haven--more pleasant it would
have been except for the dark chamber with its silent occupant--was
putting his fishing rod together. There came a knock on the door, and
Shag entered.

"Oh!" he exclaimed at the sight of the familiar equipment. "Is we--is
yo' done