McVeigh glanced from one to the other in perplexity. He felt that the Judge agreed with Masterson; he was oppressed by the memory of the accusation against the sailor that morning. Spies and traitors at McVeigh Terrace! He had placed his orderly on guard in the room so soon as he discovered the rifled drawer, and had at once come to Masterson for consultation, but once there no solution of the problem suggested itself. There seemed literally no starting point for investigation. The crowd of people there had made the difficulty greater, for servants of the guests had also been there--drivers and boatmen. Yet who among them could have access to the rooms of the family? He shook his head at Masterson's suggestion. "Your suspicions against Captain Monroe are without foundation," he said decidedly. "The papers had not yet reached me when he arrived. He had no knowledge of their existence." "How do we know that?" demanded Masterson. "Do you forget that he was present when I gave you the papers?" McVeigh stopped short and stared at him. By the thin edge of the wedge of suspicion a door seemed forced back and a flood of revelations forced in. "By Jove!" he said, slowly, "and he heard me speak of the importance of my instructions!" "Where is he now?" asked the Judge. "I have not seen him for an hour; but there seems only one thing to be done." "Certainly," agreed Masterson, delighted that McVeigh at last began to look with reason on his own convictions. "He should be arrested at once." "We must not be hasty in this matter, it is so important," said McVeigh. "Phil, I will ask you to see that a couple of horses are saddled. Have your men do it without arousing the servants' suspicions. I am going to my room for a more thorough investigation. Come with me, Judge, if you please. I am glad you remained. I don't want any of the others to know what occurred. I can't believe it of Monroe--yet." "Kenneth, my boy, I don't like to crush any lingering faith you have in your Northern friend," said Clarkson, laying his hand affectionately on McVeigh's arm as they reached the steps, "but from the evidence before us I--I'm afraid he's gone! He'll never come back!" At that moment a low, lazy sort of whistle sounded across the lawn, so low and so slow that it was apparently an unconscious accompaniment to reverie or speculation. It was quite dark except where the light shone from the hall. All the gaudy paper lanterns had been extinguished, and when the confidential notes of "Rally 'round the flag, boys," came closer, and the whistler emerged from the deeper shadows, he could only distinguish two figures at the foot of the steps, and they could only locate him by the glow of his cigar in the darkness. There was a moment's pause and then the whistler said, "Hello! Friends or foes?" "Captain Jack!" said McVeigh, with a note of relief in his voice, very perceptible to the Judge, who felt a mingling of delight and surprise at his failure as a prophet.