an snapped out, eying the roll of
cardboard in Peter's hand. "What----?" he gasped.

Peter smiled and shrugged coolly.

"It may be only a joke, sir--and I hardly know whether I'm even
justified in calling it to your attention, but I found this placard
nailed to a tree near the path to the Cabin."

"Placard!" said McGuire, his sharp glance noting the printing of the
trespass sign. "Of course--that's the usual warning----"

"It's the other side," said Peter, "that is unusual." And unrolling it
carefully, he laid it flat on the table beside his employer's breakfast
tray and then stood back to note the effect of the disclosure.

McGuire stared at the headline, starting violently, and then, as though
fascinated, read the scrawl through to the end. Peter could not see his
face, but the back of his neck, the ragged fringe of moist hair around
his bald spot were eloquent enough. And the hands which held the
extraordinary document were far from steady. The gay flowers of the
dressing gown mocked the pitiable figure it concealed, which seemed
suddenly to sag into its chair. Peter waited. For a long while the
dressing gown was dumb and then as though its occupant were slowly
awakening to the thought that something was required of him it stirred
and turned slowly in the chair.

"You--you've read this?" asked McGuire weakly.

"Yes, sir. It was there to read. It was merely stuck on a tree with this
hasp-knife," and Peter produced the implement and handed it to McGuire.

McGuire took the knife--twisting it slowly over in his fingers. "A
hasp-knife," he repeated dully.

"I thought it best to bring them to you," said Peter, "especially on
account of----"

"Yes, yes. Of course." He was staring at the red crayon scrawl and as he
said nothing more Peter turned toward the door, where Stryker stood on
guard.

"If there's nothing else just now, I'll----"

"Wait!" uttered the old man, and Peter paused. And then, "Did any one
else see this--this paper?"

"Yes--Mrs. Bergen's niece--she saw it first."

"My housekeeper's niece. Any one else?"

"I don't know. I hardly think so. It seemed quite freshly written."

"Ah----" muttered McGuire. He was now regarding Peter intently.
"Where--where is the tree on which you found it?"

"A maple--just in the wood--at the foot of the lawn."

"Ah!" He stumbled to the window, the placard still clutched in his
hands, and peered at the woods as though seeking to pick out the single
tree marke