“Therefore, she is still in it,—or in the grounds,” said Varian, positively. “It can’t be otherwise. I shall hunt out of doors first, before it grows dusk. Then we can hunt the house afterward.” “You have hunted the house.” “Yes; but it must be hunted more thoroughly. Why, Betty, or—Betty’s body must be somewhere. And must be found.” Doctor Merritt listened, dumfounded. Here was mystery indeed. Mr Varian dead,—shot,—no weapon found, and his daughter missing. What could be the explanation? The hunt out of doors for Betty resulted in nothing at all. There was no kitchen garden, merely a drying plot and a small patch of back yard, mostly stones and hard ground. This was surrounded by dwarfed and stunted pine trees, which not only afforded no hiding place, but shut off no possible nook or cranny where Betty could be hidden. The whole tableland was exposed to view from all parts of it, and it was clear to be seen that Betty Varian could not be hiding out of doors. And since she could not have left the premises, save by the road where the picnic party was congregated, there was no supposition but that she was still in the house. “Can you form any theory, Doctor Varian?” Landon asked him. “No, I can’t. Can you?” “Only the obvious one,—that Miss Varian killed her father and then hid somewhere.” “But where? Mind you, I don’t for a moment admit she killed her father, that’s too ridiculous! But whoever killed him, may also have killed her. It is her body I think we are more likely to find.” “How, then, did the assassin get away?” “I don’t know. I’m not prepared to say there’s no way out of this place——” “But I know that to be the fact. There comes the sheriff, Doctor Varian. That’s Potter.” They went into the house again, and found the sheriff and another man with him. Merritt made the necessary introductions, and Doctor Varian looked at Potter. “The strangest case you’ve ever had,” he informed him, “and the most important. How do you propose to handle it?” “Like I do all the others, by using my head.” “Yes, I know, but I mean what help do you expect to have?” “Dunno’s I’ll need any yet. Haven’t got the principal facts. Dead man’s your brother, ain’t he?” “Yes.” “Shot dead and no weapon around. Criminal unknown. Now, about this young lady,—the daughter. Where is she?” “I don’t know,—but I hope you can find her.” And then Doctor Varian told, in his straightforward way, of his search for the girl. “Mighty curious,” vouchsafed the sheriff, with an air of one stating a new idea. “The girl and her father on good terms?” “Yes, of course,” Varian answered, but his slight hesitation made the sheriff eye him keenly. “We want the truth, you know,” he said, thoughtfully. “If them two wasn’t on good terms, you might as well say so,—’cause it’ll come out sooner or later.” “But they were,—so far as I know.”