we found the coroner and told our story. he sent word to kennisburg, the county-seat, for the sheriff to come; and then having called a doctor and three or four other witnesses, we set out again for the cave. the news of the tragedy had spread like wild-fire, and half the town of luray would have accompanied us had the coroner not forcibly prevented it. he stationed two men at the entrance of the cave to keep the crowd from pushing in. i myself should have been more than willing to wait outside, but i felt that it was my duty by radnor to be present. if any discoveries were made i wished to be the first to know it.

it was sad business and i will not dwell upon it. one side of the old man's head had been fractured by a heavy blow. he had been dead several hours when we found him, but the doctor could not be certain whether drowning, or the injury he had sustained, had been the immediate cause of death. dangling from a jagged piece of rock half way down the cliff, we found polly mathers's coat, torn and drabbled with mud. the clay path above the pool was trampled in every direction 'way out to the brink of the precipice; it was evident, even to the most untrained observer, that a fierce struggle of some sort had taken place. i was the first one to examine the marks, and as i knelt down and held the light to the ground, i saw with a thrill of mingled horror and hope that one pair of feet had been bare. mose had taken part in the struggle, and dreadful as was the assurance, it was infinitely better than that other suspicion.

"it was mose who committed the murder!" i cried to the coroner as i pointed to the foot-prints in the clay.

he bent over beside me and examined the marks.

"ah——mose was present," he said slowly, "but so was someone else. see, here is the print of the colonel's boot and there beside it is the print of another boot; it is fully an inch broader."

but it was difficult to make out anything clearly, so trampled was the path. our whole party had passed over the very spot not an hour before the tragedy. whatever the others could see, i, myself, was blind to everything but the indisputable fact that mose had been there.

as we were making ready to start back to the mouth of the cave, a cry from one of the men called our attention again to the scene of the struggle. he held up in his hand a small, gleaming object which he had found trodden into the path. it was a silver match box covered with dents and mud and marked "r. f. g." i recognized it instantly; i had seen radnor take it from his pocket a hundred times. as i looked at it now my hope seemed to vanish and that same sickening suspicion rushed over me again. the men eyed each other silently, and i did not have to ask what they were thinking of. we turned without comments and started on our journey back to the village. the body was carried to the hotel to await the coroner's permission to take it home to four-pools. there was nothing more for me to do, and with a heavy heart i mounted again to return to the plantation.

scarcely had i left the stable yard when i heard hoofs pounding along behind me in the darkness, and jim mattison galloped up with two of his men.

"if you are going to four-pools we will ride with you," he said, falling into pace beside me while the officers dropped behind. "i might as well tell you," he added, "that it looks black for radnor. i'm sorry, but it's my duty to keep him under arrest until some pretty strong counter-evidence turns up."

"where's cat-eye mose?" i cried. "why don't you arrest him?"

the sheriff made a gesture of disdain.

"that's nonsense. everyone in the county knows cat-eye mose. he wouldn't hurt a fly. if he was present at the time of the crime it was to help his master, and the man who killed colonel gaylord killed him too. i've[pg 147] known him all my life and i can swear he's innocent."

"you've known radnor all your life," i returned bitterly.

"yes," he said, "i have—and jefferson gaylord, too."

i rode on in silence and i do not think i ever hated anyone as, for the moment, i hated the man beside me. i knew that he was thinking of polly mathers, and i imagined that i could detect an undertone of triumph in his voice.

"it's well known," he went on, half to himself and half to me, "that radnor sometimes had high words with his father; and to-day, they tell me at the hotel, he came back alone without waiting for the others, and while his horse was being saddled he drank off two glasses of brandy as if they had been water. all the men on the veranda marked how white his face was, and how he cursed the stable boy for being slow. it was evident that something had happened in the cave, and what with finding his match box at the scene of the crime—circumstantial evidence is pretty strong against him."

i was too miserable to think of any answer; and, the fellow finally having the decency to keep quiet, we galloped the rest of the way in silence.

though it must have been long after midnight when we reached the house, lights were still burning in the downstairs rooms. we rode up to the portico with considerable clamor and dismounted. one of the men held the horses while mattison and the other followed me into the house. rad himself, hearing the noise of our arrival, came to the door to meet us. he was quite composed again and spoke in his usual manner.

"hello, arnold! did you find him, and is the party over?"

he stopped uncertainly as he caught sight of the others. they stepped into the hall and stood watching him a moment without saying anything. i tried to tell him but the words seemed to stick in my throat.

"a—a terrible thing has happened, rad," i stammered out.

"what's the matter?" he asked, a sudden look of anxiety springing to his face.

"i am sorry, rad," mattison replied, "but it is my duty to arrest you."

"to arrest me, for what?" he asked with a half laugh.

"for the murder of your father."

radnor put out his hand against the wall to steady himself, and his lips showed white in the lamp light. at the sight of his face i could have sworn that he was not acting, and that the news came with as much of a shock to him as it had to me.

"my father murdered!" he gasped. "what do you mean?"

"his dead body was found in the cave, and circumstantial evidence points to you."

he seemed too dazed to grasp the words and mattison said it twice before he comprehended.

"do you mean he's dead?" rad repeated. "and i quarrelled with him last night and wouldn't make it up—and now it's too late."

"i must warn you," the sheriff returned, "that whatever you say will be used against you."

"i am innocent," said radnor, brokenly, and without another word he prepared to go. mattison drew some hand-cuffs from his pocket, and radnor looked at them with a dark flush.

"you needn't be afraid. i am not going to run away," he said. mattison dropped them back again with a muttered apology.

i went out to the stable with one of the men and helped to saddle jennie loo. i felt all the time as though i had hold of the rope that was going to hang him. when we came back he and the sheriff were standing on the portico, waiting. rad appeared to be more composed than any of us, but as i wrung his hand i noticed that it was icy cold.

"i'll attend to everything," i said, "and don't worry, my boy. we'll get you off."

"don't worry!" he laughed shortly as he leaped into the saddle. "it's not myself i'm worrying over; i am innocent," and he suddenly leaned forward and scanned my face in the light from the open door. "you believe me?" he asked quickly.

"yes," i cried, "i do! and what's more, i'll prove you're innocent."