“Yes, I knaow. But he hed very special business this last time. Naow look at this telegram.” The two took the oblong sheet, and read: “_New York--Oct. 21. 942 A.M. Unexpectedly easy sailing. Found clue to money almost without looking. Fancy now must been sixteen instead ten. Hope return to-night. Ansdell_.” “Well, still I am in the dark,” John said, after reading and re-reading the dispatch. “What is it all about? I suppose you understand it.” “I’m beginnin’ to see a leetle ways threw th’ millstone, I think, myself,” replied Beekman. “But it’s all so uncert’n yit, I don’t want to say nothin’ thet I can’t back up later on.” Seth too had been busily pondering the dispatch, and he said now, with a flushing face: “_I_ know what you think! You and Ansdell have got an idea there was foul play!” “Well, yes, it ain’t much more’n an idee, _yit_;” assented Beekman. “What do you base your idea on?” demanded John, full of a nameless, growing fright lest there _might_ be something further which Seth’s confession had not revealed. “Jest you wait one day more,” said the Boss of Jay County, grimly, “one day more ’ll dew. Then I miss my guess ef we ain’t in shape to tell yeh. Fust of all, there’s got to be a post-mortem.” John’s impulse was to say that he and Seth had already agreed upon this, but a second thought checked his tongue. “’N’ it’ll hev to be on th’ quiet. Everything depends on thet--on keepin’ it dark. There’s some folks might get skeered, ’n’ complicate things, ef it ain’t kep’ mum. ’N’ thet’s what I wanted to ask yeh ’baout. I’ve thought of Dr. Bacon, over at Thessaly, ’n’ Dr. Pierce daown at the Springs. They’re both good men, ’n’ got level heads on ’em. What d’yeh say to them?” “I’ve no objection to them in the world, but the Coroner----” “Oh, I know ’bout him. He’s th’ blamedest fool in th’ caounty. Over in Jay we wouldn’t elect sech a dumb-head to be hog-reeve. But you ’n’ Ansdell kin fix it with him to-morrow, ’n’ I’ll drive to-day ’n’ see both doctors, ’n’ put ’em straight. ’N’ naow yeh must prommus me, both of yeh, thet yeh won’t breathe a word of this to any livin’ soul.” They promised, and he climbed into his buggy, and gathered up the reins. “Oh, there’s one thing more,” he said, on reflection. “P’raps you wonder why I’m takin’ so much on myself. I’ll tell yeh bimeby. I’ve got my reasons. I’m mixed up in it, more’n you’d think.” He turned about, and drove off briskly toward Thessaly. The brothers stood in perplexed silence by the roadside for some minutes. There was surely enough to think about. At last, with a frank gesture, John stretched his hand out to Seth: “Old boy,” he said, “I don’t know how this thing is coming out, but we’ll see it through together. You go down to the office and wait for me. You might do some things to fill up the paper this week if you’ve got nerve enough. I’m going back to the farm.” CHAPTER XXX.--JOHN’S DELICATE MISSION.