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oys. They were John Walters and Charlie Dean--two chums who were always first to be around when there was anything unusual going on, or to be found. It was they who discovered the fire in the foundry in time to have it put out. It was they who knew where the tramps were hiding who had been stealing from the village stores, and now Mary wondered what they had discovered. She left the gate swinging open and walked down to meet them. "What is it, boys?" "We--we--found these--and--there's something happened," panted the boys, both speaking at once. She took the hat of white straw from John's hand. "Why! This is Peter Junior's hat! Where did you find it?" She turned it about and saw dark red stains, as if it had been grasped by a bloody hand--finger marks of blood plainly imprinted on the rim. "And this, Mrs. Ballard," said Charlie, putting Peter Junior's stick in her hand, and pointing to the same red stains sunken into the knob. "We think there's been a fight and some one's been hit with this." She took it and looked at it in a dazed way. "Yes. He was carrying this in the place of his crutch," she said, as if to herself. "We think somebody's been pushed over the bluff into the river, Mrs. Ballard, for they's a hunk been tore out as big as a man, from the edge, and it's gone clean over, and down into the river. We can see where it is gone. And it's an awful swift place." She handed the articles back to the boys. "Sit down in the shade here, and I'll bring you some sweet apples, and if any one comes by, don't say anything about it until I have time to consult with Mr. Ballard." She hurried back and passed quickly around the house, and on to her husband, who was repairing the garden fence. "Bertrand, come with me quickly. Something serious has happened. I don't want Betty to hear of it until we know what it is." They hastened to the waiting boys, and together they slowly climbed the long path leading to the old camping place. Bertrand carried the stick and the hat carefully, for they were matters of great moment. "This looks grave," he said, when the boys had told him their story. "Perhaps we ought to have brought some one with us--if anything--" said Mary. "No, no; better wait and see, before making a stir." It was a good half hour's walk up the hill, and every moment of the time seemed heavily freighted with foreboding. They said no more until they reached the spot where the boys had found t
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