"Good!" he approved. "I think that cinches it. Marie's been with us for years. Her word is certainly as good as a Boche farmhand's. Even Maclay's 'judicial temperament' will have to admit that. Send her in here, won't you?" When the maid appeared at the door of the study a minute later, the Master opened the examination with the solemn air of a legal veteran. "You are the first person down here in the mornings, aren't you, Marie?" he began. "Why, yes, sir," replied the wondering maid. "Yes, always, except when you get up early to go fishing or when----" "What time do you get down here in the mornings," pursued the Master. "Along about six o'clock, sir, mostly," said the maid, bridling a bit as if scenting a criticism of her work-hours. "Not earlier than six?" asked the Master. "No, sir," said Marie, uncomfortably. "Of course, if that's not early enough, I suppose I could----" "It's quite early enough," vouchsafed the Master. "There is no complaint about your hours. You always let Lad out as soon as you come into the music room?" "Yes, sir," she answered, "as soon as I get downstairs. Those were the orders, you remember." The Master breathed a silent sigh of relief. The maid did not get downstairs until six. The dog, then, could not get out of the house until that hour. If Schwartz had seen any dog in the Romaine barnyard at daybreak, it assuredly was not Lad. Yet, racking his brain, the Master could not recall any other dog in the vicinity that bore even the faintest semblance to his giant collie. And he fell to recalling--from his happy memories of "_Bob, Son of Battle_"--that "Killers" often travel many miles from home to sate their mania for sheep-slaying. In any event, it was no concern of his if some distant collie, drawn to the slaughter by the queer "sixth" collie-sense, was killing Romaine's new flock of sheep. Lad was cleared. The maid's very evidently true testimony settled that point. "Yes, sir," rambled on Marie, beginning to take a faint interest in the examination now that it turned upon Lad whom she loved. "Yes, sir, Laddie always comes out from under his piano the minute he hears my step in the hall outside. And he always comes right up to me and wags that big plume of a tail of his, and falls into step alongside of me and walks over to the front door, right beside me all the way. He knows as much as many a human, that dog does, sir." Encouraged by the Master's approving nod, the maid ventured to enlarge still further upon the theme. "It always seems as if he was welcoming me downstairs, like," she resumed, "and glad to see me. I've really missed him quite bad this past few mornings." The approving look on the Master's face gave way to a glare of utter blankness. "This past few mornings?" he repeated, blitheringly. "What do you mean?"