gone.

"Keep quiet, Dyke," said Bernard. "I will shadow the old fellow, and
see if he is other than he seems."

Bernard was on the point of leaving the room, when a youth appeared,
walking swiftly toward the farm-house from the direction of the
station. One glance sufficed to show both men the genial face of the
boy Paul Ender.

"So you have Paul with you, Harry?" said the detective with a pleased
smile.

"He is my shadow, and I have found him true and brave," answered
Harry, at the same time glancing toward Nell, who had told him of the
lad's defense of her against the villain Elliston.

"I can testify to his bravery," said the girl. "Paul and I are great
friends."

A minute later, young Ender entered the presence of the trio, and
deposited a black satchel in the middle of the floor.

"I have committed a theft," said the boy, with a queer look on his
face, "and am here to throw myself on the mercy of the court."

"You speak in riddles," said Bernard. "I've been on a bully lay, as
the peelers say, and I believe have made a discovery, although it may
amount to nothing after all."

"Go on."

"I've seen the man with the red hair and beard."

"When?"

"Where?"

"Over by the depot. I saw him go into an old out-house with this
satchel in his hand."

"Indeed!"

"Go on."

"I was on the watch, and when he came out I saw, not Brother Ruggles,
but a lean old man, with white locks and beard, who seemed to walk
with great difficulty."

"Ah!"

"Indeed!"

"He hobbled away, and failed to take the satchel with him. At first I
could not believe that the sorrel gent and the old chap were the same.
I learned this by investigation. When, after waiting a spell, and no
sunset-haired gent came forth, I proceeded to investigate, and found
this satchel, which, under the law of military necessity, I proceeded
to confiscate, that the ends of justice might be furthered. If I have
done wrong, I am ready to throw myself on the mercy of the court, and
be forgiven."

"You have done right," cried Dyke Barrel. "Have you opened the
satchel?"

"No. It is locked, and I haven't a key that will fit."

Harry Bernard produced several keys, none of which fitted the lock to
the satchel.

"What are we to do?" cried Bernard. "The satchel is securely locked,
and its owner has the key."

"This is no time for ceremony or undue squeamishness!" uttered Dyke
Darrel. "We are on the eve of an important discovery, and I propose to
mak