that boded no good. If it had only been running water—"
Betsey felt David start suddenly in the dark.
"Say that again, Michael," he ordered breathlessly.
The old Irishman repeated the words faithfully, even to the groan at the end of them. David's excitement was rapidly communicating itself to Betsey.
"That was on the night Miss Miranda's father was taken ill," she said, although of this explanation there was no need.
"I know, I know," the boy returned quickly, "but wasn't Mr. Reynolds in his shop all the rest of the evening? That is what has puzzled me."
"I looked in once and he was gone," she answered, "but it was for such a little while that I never thought of it again. Oh, if we should find what is lost, at last!"
David was already on his feet, peering over the stone wall toward the pool.
"We should try to get Michael home first," Betsey objected, seeing already what was in his mind.
"No, no," the Irishman insisted, having only a vague notion of what they were about, but feeling excitement in the air. "You shall not move me one inch if there is aught to do first that may help Miss Miranda."
"You must lie very still," warned Betsey.
