She had been to Bab and Lucy and said, “How still you are, darlings!” and they had seemed delighted.

Next she tried Chicken Little.  He certainly jumped when she spoke his name close to his ear, “Henry.”  Now why should he jump and seem so confused unless he knew he had done something wrong?  She forgot that he was a very timid boy.

“Henry, what is the matter with you?” she asked, frowning severely.

She had never frowned on him before, for she liked the little fellow, and was trying her best to “make a man of him.”

“What is the matter, Henry?”

By this time he was scared nearly out of his wits, and stole a side glance at her to see if she had a switch in her hand.

“Don’t whip me,” he pleaded in a trembling voice.  “Don’t whip me, teacher; and I’ll give you f-i-v-e thousand dollars!”

As he offered this modest sum to save himself from her wrath, the little teacher nearly laughed aloud, Henry did not know it, however; her face was hidden behind a book.

“What made you think, you silly boy, that I was going to punish you?” she asked as soon as she could find her voice.  “Have you done something wicked?”

She spoke in a low tone for his ear alone, but he writhed under it as if it had been a blow.

“I—­don’—­know.”

“He is the thief,” thought Kyzie.  “Oh, Henry, if you’ve done something wrong you must know it.  Tell me what it was.”

“I—­can’t!”

She put her lips nearer his ear.  “Was it you and Joseph Rolfe together?  Perhaps you both did something wicked?”

“I—­don’—­know.”

“Was it last Friday?”

“I—­don’—­know!”

“Will you tell me after school?”

Henry was unable to answer.  Worn out with contending emotions he put his head down on the seat and cried.

This did not seem like innocence.  Joseph Rolfe was looking on from across the aisle, as if he wished very much to know what she and Henry were talking about.

“I’ll make them tell me the whole story, the wicked boys,” thought Kyzie, indignantly.  “But I can’t hurry about it; I must be very careful.  I think I’ll wait till to-morrow.”

So she calmed herself and called out her classes.  Katharine was a “golden girl,” and had a strong sense of justice.  She would say nothing yet to her father, for the boys might possibly be innocent; still she went home that afternoon feeling that she had almost made a discovery.

“Good evening, Grandmother Graymouse,” said Uncle James, as they were all seated on the veranda after dinner, “do I understand that you are hunting for a watch?”

“I’m hunting for it, oh, yes,” replied Kyzie, trying not to look too triumphant; “but I haven’t found it yet.  Just wait till to-morrow, Uncle James.”

“I don’t believe we’ll wait another minute!” declared Mr. Sanford, looking around with a roguish smile.  “I see the Dunlee people are all here, Jimmum, Lucy, and all.  Attention, my friends!  The thief has been found!”