"Give me some more calcium light," he called to the guide. "I want to look into this passage. And just hand me some of those boards," he added. "It's very necessary that we keep the marks clear." The rest of us stood in a huddled group on the one or two boards he had left us and watched him curiously as he made his way down the passage. He paused at the end and examined the ground. We saw him stoop and pick up something. Then he rose quickly with a cry of triumph and came running back to us holding his hands behind him. "It's just as I suspected," he said, his eyes shining with excitement. "Colonel Gaylord had an enemy he did not know." "What do you mean?" we asked, crowding around. "Here's the proof," and he held out towards us a well gnawed ham bone in one hand and a cheese rind in the other. "These were the provisions intended for the church social; the pies, I fancy, have disappeared." We stared at him a moment in silent wonder. The sheriff was the first to assert himself. "What have these to do with the crime?" he asked, viewing the trophies with an air of disgust. "Everything. The man who stole those is the man who robbed the safe and who murdered Colonel Gaylord." The sheriff uttered a low laugh of incredulity, and the guide and I stared open-mouthed. "And what's more, I will tell you what he looks like. He is a large, very black negro something over six feet tall. When last seen, he was dressed in a blue and white checked blouse and ragged overalls. His shoes were much the worse for wear, and have since been thrown away. He was bare-footed at the time he committed the crime. In short," Terry added, "he is the chicken thief whom Colonel Gaylord whipped a couple of days before he died," and he briefly repeated the incident I had told him. "You mean," I asked, "that he was the ha'nt?" "Yes," said Terry, "he was the second ha'nt. He has been hiding for two or three weeks in the spring-hole at Four-Pools, keeping hidden during the day and coming out at night to prowl around and steal whatever he could lay his hands on. He doubtless deserved punishment, but that fact would not make him the less bitter over the Colonel's beating. When I heard that story, I said to myself, 'there is a man who would be ready for revenge if chance put the opportunity in his way.'" "But," I expostulated, "how did he happen to be in the cave?"