“Oh, I forgot to tell you that. You see, her canoe was just below, right down from the window. She leaned out first, and dropped a bundle of something into the boat. Then, she stepped on the sill, and I could see she did have something in one hand. A sort of stick, I think.” “The Totem Pole,” said March, decidedly. “That’s all, Jennie, you may go now.” Lora left the room with the girl, but soon returned, Not a word had been spoken by us in her absence. “Well,” she said, as she came back, and March responded, “not well at all. About as bad as it can be.” “You believe that balderdash, then?” I asked, angrily, and Keeley said, “Yes, Gray, and so do you. I think, March, we must revert to the mentally deficient theory.” “I think so, too,” March said, shaking his head. “I wish Doctor Rogers was at home.” CHAPTER XVI WHISTLING REEDS March called in at Variable Winds on his way to the Tracy funeral. We were all ready to go, for though none of us wanted to, it was a matter of convention and the whole village would have commented unkindly had we stayed away. I, especially, dreaded it, for I dislike funerals, and I hated the thought of the entire community sitting up there, casting glances at Alma and making whispered remarks about her. But I had to go, so I made the best of it, and, garbed in appropriate black, I sat with the others awaiting the time to start. March came in, looking harassed and worn. “It’s all too dreadful,” he said, sinking into a chair. “Everything seems to point to Alma Remsen, yet I am not convinced of her guilt.” I started to speak, but thought better of it. Since March held that opinion nothing I could say would help any. I’d better keep still. “I’m going to the funeral,” March went on, “because it’s wiser to show myself there. But I shall slip out, during the service, and go over to the island house. How about going with me, Mr. Norris?” “What for?” I asked, a little suspicious of his motives. “Partly to help along by corroborating anything I may learn or discover and partly that you may tell Mr. Moore all about it later, and save me that much work. I’ve none too much time for what I have to do.” “Go ahead, Gray,” Keeley said. “I can’t leave the funeral, of course, but your absence will not be noticed. As neighbours, we must show proper respect, but our guests may be excused.” “Very well, then, I’ll go,” I told March. For I felt I’d rather know exactly what he found out and so know what steps to take myself. I was formulating in my mind a course of procedure that I hoped might free Alma from these monstrous and false suspicions. “I’ll go,” I repeated, “but not because I foresee any new evidence against Miss Remsen. It’s too absurd to suspect her.”