we'll have puzzled out this mystery.
I'm afraid we aren't very good detectives, or we'd have done it long
before this. Sherlock Holmes would have!"

"But remember," suggested Cynthia, "that those Sherlock Holmes mysteries
were usually solved very soon after the thing happened. This took place
years and years ago. I reckon we're doing pretty nearly as well as
Sherlock, when you come to think of it."

"Perhaps that's so," admitted Joyce, thoughtfully. "It's not so easy
after goodness knows how many years! But I'm rested now. Come and see
what we can do with the library. I'm wild to look at the Lovely Lady
again. I really think I _love_ that picture!" And so, in the adjoining
room, they stood a while with elevated candles, gazing fascinated at the
portrait of the beautiful woman.

"She's lovely, lovely, lovely!" sighed Joyce. "Oh, wouldn't I like to
have known her! And do you notice, Cynthia, she has the same big brown
eyes of the girl-baby in the parlor. There isn't a doubt but what that
baby was she."

They tore themselves away from the portrait after a time, and commenced
digging at the dust and cobwebs of the library. But they were thoroughly
tired after their heroic struggles with the drawing-room, and made, on
the whole, but little progress. Added to this, their enthusiasm for
cleaning-up had waned considerably.

"I guess we'll have to leave this for another day," groaned Joyce at
last. "I'm just dog-tired!"

"All right," assented Cynthia, in muffled tones, her head being under a
great desk in the corner. "But wait till I finish sweeping out under
here. _Mercy!_ what's that? I just touched something soft!" On the
instant, Joyce was at her side with the candle.

"Why, it's Goliath as usual!" they both cried, peering in. "Isn't he the
greatest for getting into odd corners!" Far at the back sat Goliath,
curled into a comfortable ball, his front paws tucked under, and purring
loudly.

"He's sitting on an old newspaper, I think," said Joyce. "He always does
that if he can find one, because they're warm." Suddenly she snatched at
the paper so violently that Goliath went tobogganing off with a
protesting "meouw."

"Look, look, Cynthia!" she exclaimed, brushing off a cloud of dust with
the whisk-broom, and pointing to the top of the sheet. "Here's one of
the biggest discoveries yet!" And Cynthia, following her index-finger,
read aloud:

"'Tuesday, April 16, 1861.'"

"Which proves," added Joyce, "that whatever