Fibsy showed him how to search in the short grass of the well-kept lawn, and he himself went to work also, diligently seeking the dime Iris had flung out of the window in her irritation. While Sam lacked intellect, he had a dogged perseverance, and he kept on grubbing about after Fibsy had become so weary and cramped that he was almost ready to postpone further search until afternoon. They had pretty well scoured the area in which the flung coin would be likely to fall, and just as Fibsy sang out, "Give it up, Samivel, until this afternoon," the lad found it. "Here's dime!" he cried, picking it from the grass. "Sammy find it all aloney!" "Good for you, old chap! You're a trump! Hooray!" "But give Sammy dimes--two--three dimes." "You bet I will! Here--here are five dimes for Sammy!" Eagerly the innocent received the coins, and scampered away, having no further interest in the one he had found. Fibsy examined the dime, but could see no engraving on it, nor any letters other than those the United States Mint had put there. The date was 1892, if that meant anything. Carefully wrapping it in a bit of paper, Fibsy stowed it in his pocket and went into the house to await Fleming Stone's return. And when Stone did return, it required no great discernment to see that he was dejected and discouraged. He received the dime with a smile of hearty approval, but it was quickly followed by a reappearance of the distressed frown that betokened non-success. "What's up, Mr. Stone?" Fibsy inquired. "Not my luck," was the reply; "Fibs, we're up against it." "Let her go! What's the answer?" "Well, that Young is a hard nut to crack." "Not for you, F. S." "Yes, for me, or for anybody. He's got a perfect alibi." "Always distrust the 'perfect alibi.' That's one of the first things you taught me, Mr. Stone." "I know it, Fibs, but this alibi is unimpeachable." "A peach of an alibi, hey?" "That, indeed! You remember Joe Young, over at East Fallville?" "Yes, sir, I do." "Well, he says that his brother, Charlie Young, was at his house to dinner on that Sunday that Mrs. Pell was killed. He says Charlie arrived about half-past twelve, and he staid there until after four o'clock. Says they were together all that time. Now, that man Joe Young, is, I am sure, an honest man. Besides, his story is verified by his wife. Of course, Charlie Young declares he was at his brother's during those hours, and in the face of all the corroboration I can't disbelieve it. But, granting that alibi, who is left to suspect but Winston Bannard?" "How'd Young catch onto all the pin and dime and receipt business, anyway?" asked Fibsy, with seeming irrelevance. "I don't know, I'm sure." "There's something back of that," and Fibsy wagged a sagacious nod.