Jove we are going
to make you tell who that man was you murdered!"

The negro was terribly frightened.

In fact, he was so scared he could hardly speak.

Seeing this, Harry went on in excited tones:

"It was Ronald Mason with you, disguised. We know that. You and he were
down at Swamp Angel together, on a spree. We know that, too. And now,
you black scoundrel, we want to know who that man was you murdered,
blast you! We saw the box and body stolen at the swamp near Mr.
Dalton's winter residence, and we know now that you and Mason were at
the bottom of that mysterious piece of rascality. What does it all
mean, confound you?"

Harry's excited voice brought a beautiful, stylishly-clad young girl
down the stairs, and there was a look of surprise in her big, dark
eyes.

"Sim Johnson," she cried, "what does this mean?"

"Oh, sabe me, Miss Lizzie, sabe me!" implored the frightened coon.

"Gentlemen----" she began.

"Pardon me, Miss Dalton," interrupted Old King Brady. "We are officers
of the law. This man is mixed up in a suspicious case. We want him to
confess his villainy. Don't interfere, please."

"But I protest!" cried the young lady in angry tones.

"It is useless. We must do our duty."

"Why, what has Sim done? Now I remember you. You were here a week ago."

"Been away several days with Mason, hasn't he?" asked Harry, with a
nod.

"Yes. Out West they told me----"

"And lied. They were at your father's place in Georgia."

"My gracious! I hope they have done nothing wrong."

"Well, they have. We are bound to find out about it, too."

"Can you tell me what this all means?"

"Of course we can. But we are going to arrest this man."

"Come into the parlor so the neighbors won't hear you."

They dragged the darky into the parlor.

The crayon picture of a man hanging on the wall met Harry's glance, and
pointing excitedly at it, he cried:

"See, Old King Brady! There's a photograph of the murdered man we saw
in the box this coon was handling!"

Old King Brady was startled.

He noticed that Harry had made no error about it.

Lizzie Dalton quickly glanced at the picture.

"Why," she exclaimed, "that's my father's likeness!"

The Bradys glanced at each other in amazement.

"Then Oliver Dalton was the murdered man!" Harry muttered.

CHAPTER VI.

TRACING SOME CLEWS.

When Old King Brady heard what Harry said, he felt convinced that the
boy made no error. He plainly saw that the crayo