ld Mrs. Brown
so, an' she told me."

"Well, Coroner Busby will git to the bottom of it putty quick. He told
Lem Hansom he knew what he was doin'."

"He must know, if he's as slick at tryin' folks as he is in a hoss
dicker," returned an old farmer who had made a trade of steeds which
had proved unprofitable for him.

Margaret was shown to a chair and sat down, with Raymond beside her.
The young man was plainly nervous, yet he did what he could to comfort
his companion.

"Courage, Margaret," he whispered. "It is bound to come out right in
the end."

"I can scarcely see a friendly face," she faltered, taking a shy look
around. "They all think I am--" She could not finish, but had to
bite her lip to keep the tears from flowing.

The coroner mounted the platform and rapped on a desk with his knuckles.

"The--ahem! courtroom will come to order!" he called out, gazing around
on all sides.

There was a final buzz and then the place became quiet, broken only by
the ticking of a big round clock on the wall.

"We are gathered here--ahem! to inquire into the mysterious deaths of
Mr. and Mrs. Barry Langmore," went on the coroner.

"That's so--an' we want plain facts," put in an old farmer, sitting
well up front.

"Silence!" cried the coroner. "We must have silence!"

"All right, Jack," replied the farmer. "I won't say another word."

"Silence. We cannot go on if there is not silence. Ahem! ahem! Miss
Langmore!"

Margaret arose and bowed slightly. Then the coroner swore her in as a
witness and told her to relate her story. She could scarcely stand and
Raymond brought her chair forward.

"You wish me to tell all I know?" she asked, in a faint but clear voice.

"Everything," was Coroner Busby's answer.

Pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts, she plunged into the
recital, her tale being merely a repetition of that given to Adam
Adams. When she came to tell how her father had been found her voice
broke and it was fully a minute before she could go on. When she had
finished the courtroom was as still as a tomb, save for the ticking of
the clock, now sounding louder than ever.

"Is that all?" asked the coroner, after a painful pause.

"Yes, sir."

"They say, Miss Langmore, that you were not on good terms with your
stepmother."

"Who says so?"

"It is an--ahem! a common rumor. What have you to say on that point?"

"It is true, sir," answered Margaret, after another pause, during which
the