“It’s a mighty interesting case, sir,” declared the detective, “and I’m as glad as any of you that it has ended so comfortably.  Whatever Melville might have been—­and his record is a little worse than I related it—­there’s no doubt of Thursday Smith’s honesty.  He’s a mighty fine fellow, and Fate played a proper trick when she blotted out his unscrupulous mind and left him as innocent as an unborn babe.  He will do well in his new life, I’m sure, and that girl of his, Hetty Hewitt—­I’ve know of her reckless ways for years—­has also redeemed herself and turned out a regular brick!  All of which, Mr. Merrick is unusual in real life, more’s the pity, and therefore it makes even a cold-blooded detective feel good to witness it.”

Mr. Merrick smiled benignantly and Fogerty drove over to the Junction to catch his train.

After luncheon, Patsy, while arranging her galley proofs, inquired of Louise for the local column.

“Hetty said she’d attend to it,” was the reply; “but we are all upset to-day and things are at sixes and sevens.”

“The column is all prepared, Miss Doyle,” announced Hetty.

“Where is it?”

“Thursday has made it ready for the press.  It’s—­illustrated,” she confessed.  “I’d rather you wouldn’t see it until the paper is out, if you can trust me.”

“To be sure,” said Patsy.  “That’s one responsibility I’m relieved of, anyhow.”

The paper was a bit uneven in appearance next morning, but when Patsy came down to breakfast she found both Uncle John and the major roaring with laughter over Hetty’s locals.

The first item stated that “Mrs. Thorne took tea at Sam Cotting’s last evening,” (the Cottings being notoriously inhospitable) and the picture showed Mrs. Thorne, a sour-faced woman, departing from the store with a package of tea.  Then came the announcement that “Eph Hildreth got shot at West’s hardware store,” and there was a picture of West weighing out a pound of buckshot for his customer.  The next item said:  “Our distinguished fellow citizen, Marshall Peggy McNutt, was discovered unconscious on his front porch at 3 p.m.”  The drawing of McNutt was one of the best of the series.  It was his habit to “snooze” in an easy chair on his porch every afternoon, and Hetty depicted the little man with both feet—­meat and wood—­on the rail, his mouth open and eyes shut, while lusty snores were indicated by radiating lines and exclamation points.  The Widow Clark’s cow occupied the next square, being tethered to a stake while Skim approached the animal with pail and milking-stool.  Below the drawing were the words:  “Mr. Skimton Clark, cowward.”  A few other local hits were concluded by a picture of Hon. Ojoy Boglin shaking his fist at Mr. Skeelty, who held a package of money in his grasp labeled “insurance.”  Below was the simple legend:  “O Joy!”

The artist’s cleverness became the subject of conversation at the breakfast table, and Arthur remarked: