“But what can we do?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“But what about that envelope, Lois?  How do you I suppose it got there?  That looks queer, doesn’t it?”

“That’s another part of the mystery to be solved, that’s all.”

The next day was an exciting one, for all kinds of rumours were afloat, and at times Lois hardly knew what to believe.  But there were several things about which there was no doubt.  She learned that an inquest had been held over David’s body, and that it had been decided that David Findlay had met his death at the hands of some unknown person or persons.  There was nothing more left to be done but to give the body a decent burial.

The funeral was held that afternoon, and it seemed that the entire parish turned out.  It was a fine mild summer day, but notwithstanding that the farmers left their fields and attended the funeral.  Lois and Betty walked together to the church, and as they passed Jasper’s cabin they looked across the field, thinking they might see some one there.  But not a sign of life could they behold.

The service in the church was brief and solemn, and Betty found it very difficult to control her feelings.  At the grave side she broke down completely, and Lois had to lead her away to a quiet spot.

“Poor Mr. David!” the girl moaned.  “I shall never see him again.  He was so good to me.”

“There, there, dear,” Lois soothed.  “If he were alive he would not wish you to feel so badly.  He is at rest, anyway.”

“I know that, but I miss him so much.  Oh, why was he taken?”

For some time they sat there, Betty sobbing out her grief, and Lois trying to sooth her, at the same time wondering what had become of Jasper.  If he had not gone away it was strange that he was not at the funeral.  The people leaving the grave passed close to the spot where they were sitting, and many were the curious glances cast in their direction.  Several women stopped to speak to them, among whom was Mrs. Wadell, noted all over the parish for her fondness for gossip, as well as for meddling in the affairs of others.

“So ye feel bad, do ye?” and she fixed her piercing eyes upon Betty’s tear-stained face.  “I wouldn’t feel bad fer such as him,” and she jerked her thumb toward the grave.

“But I do,” Betty protested.  “He was good to me, and now he is gone.”

“I guess ye’ll like him better now that he’s gone,” Mrs. Wadell remarked.  “I know I should, anyway, if he’d done as handsome by me as he’s done by you.”

“Why, what do you mean?” Betty asked in surprise.

“Why, about the money he’s left ye.  It’s a snug sum, so I understand, and I suppose it’ll make ye put on mighty fine airs, so’s ye won’t speak to common folks any more.”

Lois now became much interested in the words of this garrulous old woman, and she was anxious to know more, and where she had obtained her information.