Mr. Strout's disgust was shown in both voice and manner when Abner Stiles came in.

"Say, Abner, is it true that Sawyer boy licked Bob?"

"I should say so," said Abner. "He must have got an all-fired trouncing, for his face looks like a raw beefsteak, an' one of the fellers said he'd been spittin' blood."

"Them Sawyers is brutes," was Mr. Strout's comment. "I hope to the Lord that he is the last one of that brood to come to this town. Their money's the best part of 'em, but it ain't any better, when you come to that, than other folkses."

CHAPTER XX

MARY DANA

Quincy and Tom spent one more year at Andover. When they parted from the old school it was with feelings of deep regret.

"I could be happy here for ten years more," said Quincy.

"So could I," replied Tom. "But, after all, this is only a narrow path in the world of knowledge. Harvard is but a street and when we get out into the world I suppose we shall find a boulevard."

"I'm going to look down upon the world before I investigate its thoroughfares," remarked Quincy.

"What do you mean?"

"I shall visit Fernborough for only a short time this summer, a few days in which to see the folks, and then I shall go to the White Mountains.

I'm going to stand on the top of Mount Washington, and look down on the busy hives of men."

Tom knew Quincy had received a letter from Mary, saying that she and her aunt intended spending the summer at Fabyans, and he felt that Quincy, being near Mary, would probably be on a higher pinnacle than any mountain could supply, and the "eternal hills" would become objects of secondary importance. But, Tom wisely refrained from mentioning these thoughts, for lovers do not seek confidants unless help is needed.

Quincy found Fernborough but little changed, During the fourteen years that he had been a resident of, or a visitor to, the town there had been but little to disturb its serenity. Goldsmith's "Deserted Village" could not have had a better record for unbroken placidity. The wrestling match between young Quincy and Bob Wood had been an incentive to some animated conversations at meal times and at the grocery, but the "locals" in the _Fernborough Gazette_ had never risen above the usual level of,

Hal Prentiss has bought a Jersey cow,

Strout and Maxwell have a new wagon,

William Jones has painted his fence green,

Sol. Peters cut twenty tons of hay from his lot on the Center Road,

Mrs. Jerusha May is visiting her daughter Hannah at Westvale,

And more of the same kind, interesting to a rural community but considered inconsequential by those conversant with more exciting intelligence.

But Fernborough was destined to have its share of important events, which incidentally interfered with the well laid plans of both Quincy and Mary for the vacation in the mountains.

For the first time in the town's history newsboys went through its streets, calling out "All about the Murder at Cottonton," and offering for sale copies of the _Cottonton Journal_. The boys held up the papers so the headlines in large type could be seen. The word "Fernborough"

caught the eyes of those attracted by the word "Murder" and the copies were soon disposed of, obliging many intending purchasers to share the news with those who had been fortunate enough to obtain copies.

Quincy was in Mason Square when the newsboys arrived and he purchased a paper. He glanced at the headlines and saw a name that caused him to utter an exclamation of astonishment. He did not stop to discuss the matter with any of the large crowd that had been collected, but whipping up his horse soon reached Mary's home. Leaving the animal standing in the yard he burst into the sitting room crying loudly, "Mary! Mary!"

"Why, what is the matter, Quincy--are you hurt?"

"No, but something has happened in Cottonton and they sent newsboys over here with the papers."

"Somebody living in Fernborough must be mixed up in the affair," said Mr. Dana, who was sitting in his rocking chair near the window.

"I should say there was, decidedly so. Sit down, and I'll read what it says."

"THE MURDER AT COTTONTON

"A YOUNG MAN NAMED ROBERT WOOD, A NATIVE OF FERNBOROUGH, ARRESTED AS THE CRIMINAL AND LOCKED UP WITHOUT BAIL. ANOTHER CANDIDATE FOR THE ELECTRIC CHAIR!"

"Bob Wood, he was the one who insulted you, wasn't he?"

"Yes, father, but that was a long time ago," said Mary. "Do let Quincy read the rest of it."

"A brutal murder was committed last night at the Ellicott Mills,"

Quincy continued. "The unfortunate victim was Mr. Samuel Ellicott, the treasurer and princ.i.p.al owner. He was found sitting at his desk with his head crushed in. The blood-stained implement of destruction has been discovered. Robert Wood, Jr., a native of the adjoining town of Fernborough, has been arrested and held without bail. Young Wood has been an employee at the mill, but had aspired to the hand of Mr.

Ellicott's only daughter Mabel. Mr. Ellicott was firmly opposed to the match, and, with the view, probably, of forcing the young man to leave the city, had discharged him from his employ. Mr. Ellicott was busily engaged in making preparations for pay day, which occurs to-day, and was alone in his office at the time. There seems to be no doubt of the guilt of the accused. His cane was found in Mr. Ellicott's office and must have been used to inflict the murderous blows which have deprived Cottonton of one of its most enterprising and respected citizens."

"What do you think of that, Mary?" asked Quincy.

"I don't know yet. What do you think, father?"

"The case has no mystery--no charm for the detective's mind. I was thinking that naughty boys who plague little girls often become wicked men. Now, what do you think?"

Mary did not answer at once. When she did speak it was the result of deliberation. In a small way she had often tried to help her father out in solving some of the mysteries that had come up in his line of work, and now the detective instinct in her was strongly aroused as Quincy knew it would be.

"Quincy and I both know the young man,--not pleasurably, I'll admit,"

she said, finally. "Everybody thinks him guilty, but we have no right to join the mult.i.tude without cause. He may be innocent. It would be a double victory to repay an enemy with kindness, and, perhaps, save an innocent man's life."

"Just what I thought you would say," cried Quincy. "I feel too that there is a chance that Wood is not the one. But what can we do?" he continued.

"First, you must go and see Bob Wood's father, Quincy, and tell him that I am going to investigate the affair, with my father's help. But tell him he must be quiet about it. If we are to accomplish anything, it must be done without any one knowing we are interested in the matter. Father and I will look over all the papers that have reports of the trial, and, perhaps you had better attend the trial yourself, and make careful notes, for the papers do not always get things just straight. Then, I want to see Miss Mabel myself, and see what she says."

"But, why do you wish to do all this, Mary?" said Mr. Dana. "It strikes me as being a simple case of a very brutal murder, and one in which there is no doubt that the authorities have got the right man."

"I don't believe him guilty, that's all."

"That's an opinion,--not a reason."

"I know it, but woman's intuition often comes nearer to the truth than man's judgment."

She threw her arms about her father's neck, and her eyes looked down into his, "You'll help all you can, won't you, father?" she pleaded.

"Well, I have nothing else to do, and this affair awakens my interest.

But from what I know of the case now, I think they have the right man."