“But not such a man as that, Margaret,” and Lois sat down by the girl’s side.  “Something tells me that he had much to do with the murder of poor old David.”

“Whatever put such a foolish notion as that into your head?” and Margaret looked keenly into Lois’ face.

“Sydney Bramshaw is merely a harmless artist, and wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“So you have always said.  You may be right, but my heart tells a different story, and it is hard for me not to believe it.  I am going to find out, anyway, if there is any justification for my suspicion of that man.”

“You!” and Margaret looked her astonishment.  “Why, what can you do?”

“Perhaps nothing.  Anyway, I am going to try.  Something must be done at once if Mr. Randall is to be saved.”  Lois then told Margaret all about the finding of David, of the envelope lying near the body, and how the people were accusing Jasper of the murder.

When Mr. Sinclair and Dick came home they brought with them a copy of The Evening News, which contained a long account of the murder.  Lois’ hand trembled as she took the paper and saw the big startling headlines.  She feared lest Jasper’s name should be mentioned in connection with the affair, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it did not appear.  The article merely said that a certain person was suspected and that the detectives were working on the case.

“I’m afraid Spuds is in hot water,” Dick remarked, as they all sat down to dinner.

“What makes you think that?” Lois asked in a voice as calm as possible.

“Oh, from what people are saying.  It’s known all over the country that he was with Crazy David that night, and that they left the Haven and walked along the road together.  That in itself looks suspicious, for Spuds was the last person seen with old David.”

“Who saw them together?” Lois enquired, “and how did that information get abroad?”

“The Petersons, I suppose, or that girl Betty told it.”

“But do you suppose some one else saw them together?  Have you thought of that?”

“I don’t catch the drift of your meaning,” and Dick looked enquiringly at his sister.

“Suppose there was some one else near the road that night watching Mr. Randall and David as they walked along?  And suppose, further, that when the old man was going back alone to the Haven some one had killed him?”

“Good heavens, Lois! you make my blood run cold.  Why should you suggest such a thing?”

“But you don’t believe that Mr. Randall killed David, do you?”

“No, no!  I couldn’t for a moment think that Spuds would do such a thing.”

“Well, then, some one must have done it in a way similar to what I have said.”

“Sure, I never thought of that.  But who do you suppose did it?”

“That’s for us to find out.”

“Us?”

“Yes, why not?  Isn’t it right to stick by our friends in their time of need?”