LITMIR.BIZ

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Elsie!" Ida exclaimed as she jumped back into bed, her teeth chattering with the cold. "The boys are both in bed, and haven't been near the tool-house. And d'you know what you've done? You've let in Bob."

      "I'm sure I didn't."

      "But you did. He's just run upstairs. He must have slipped in when you opened the yard door. His collar's broken, and he gets loose sometimes."

      "I'm sure he didn't come into the house when I opened the door," persisted Elsie. "I only stood there half a minute. The servants must have let him in when they were locking up."

      "Well, if it was a robber working the grindstone," answered Ida jokingly, "he can't get into the house without Bob barking and waking everybody up. Now, good-night; don't wake me up again."

      Ida's breathing soon showed that she was once more in the land of dreams, but try as Elsie would she could not get off to sleep. As often as she closed her eyes she seemed to see the dark outline of the tool-house, the single window illuminated with a ghostly glimmer, and again she heard the hiss and whir of the grindstone as she had heard it before.

      Who could have been at work there, if Guy and Brian were both in bed? If she had run across and opened the door of the little den, what would she have seen? She was still lying awake thinking, when the old clock downstairs struck three. Gradually her excitement gave place to a sensation of drowsiness, and at length she fell asleep. Even now her puzzled brain was not quite content to let her rest. In her dreams she once more went downstairs, and this time the door of the tool-house opened, and out came the grindstone of its own accord, staggering along on its wooden stand, and whizzing round all the time with a buzzing sound like a big angry bee. It chased her along endless passages, and up and down countless flights of stairs. Then Brian appeared on the scene; she rushed forward to beg his help, and in doing so awoke to find that she was in bed.

      CHAPTER II.

      THE LOST CARVING-KNIFE

      There was a great deal of chattering going on at the breakfast table next morning, seldom less than two people talking at once.

      "Look here, Ida," cried Guy; "next time you come waking me up in the middle of the night, I'll have a sponge of cold water ready for you; see if I don't!"

      "I tell you it was Elsie's fault," was the answer. "She declared she heard some one turning the grindstone."

      "Well, so I did," persisted Elsie, who did not like her word being doubted. "I heard it quite plainly; and there was a light in the tool-house."

      "Are you sure you were not dreaming?" asked Mrs. Ormond.

      "Yes, quite sure, mother."

      "Did you grind any of your tools last night, Brian?"

      "Oh no, aunt. I haven't touched the grindstone for a week at least. Besides, I'm too fond of bed to get up and sharpen chisels at two o'clock in the morning."

      The speaker was a sturdy, good-natured boy, two years older than Guy, and greatly distinguished this term by having received the cap of the Rexbury Grammar School football team.

      "You two girls are a couple of noodles," went on Guy. "I suppose you thought it was a ghost working at the stone?"

      "Well, look here," cried Ida, anxious to turn the conversation; "who let Bob in last night? Elsie says she didn't, but he was in the house when I came over to your room."

      "He was fastened up when I crossed the yard about eight o'clock last night," said Brian.

      "Where did you find him this morning, Jane?" asked Ida, turning to the parlour-maid.

      "He was outside, chained up to his kennel, miss," was the answer.

      "Outside! But when he was once in the house he couldn't possibly get out again. He came running up the stairs, and I couldn't think what it was for a minute."

      "He was in his kennel when we came down this morning, miss," said Jane.

      Guy burst out into a roar of laughter.

      "Well, I'm blest!" he cried. "You are a pair! First there's Elsie's yarn about that grindstone, and now you try to stuff some silly story into us of Bob's running about the house when he was outside all the time."

      "But he was in the house," cried Ida, flushing. "He came upstairs to me, and I sent him down again."

      "Then if he was in the house, will you tell me how he could have got out again before the servants came down to open the door? You girls must have eaten something for supper last night that didn't agree with you, and both had nightmare. Next time you get it, don't come across to our door."

      "Now, now!" interrupted Mrs. Ormond, who saw that Ida was about to make an angry retort, and judged that the discussion had gone far enough. "Come, you boys will be late if you don't make haste with your breakfast. Are you going to play football this afternoon, Brian?"

      "Yes, aunt; it's a match."

      "Shall you want to take your things with you?"

      "No, thank you. The game's on our ground, so I shall come home to change."

      Mr. Ormond, who had not been paying much attention to the conversation, now laid aside the newspaper he had been reading, at the same time remarking, —

      "I see that the Arcadia left the docks in London yesterday bound for Australia, so I suppose by this time Mr. William Cole has begun his first experience of being 'rocked in the cradle of the deep.'"

      "Was the Arcadia the ship he was going out on?" asked Ida.

      "Yes," replied her father; "that was the one in which he had booked his passage."

      "'Old King Cole was a merry old soul,'" chanted Guy, with his mouth half full of toast and butter. "I wish he hadn't gone. I'm sure we shan't ever have such a nice man again."

      "He was a civil, sharp young fellow," said Mr. Ormond. "I suppose he hopes to do better in the Colonies than by staying on in the old country. Well, it's very possible he may get on. He's a handy sort of chap, and can turn his hand to all kinds of jobs."

      William Cole, the subject of these remarks, had, until about a week previous to the commencement of this story, been gardener and man-of-all-work at the Pines. Being easy-going, and clever with his hands, he had been a great favourite with the children. Whether it was to clean a bicycle, splice the broken joint of a fishing-rod, blow birds' eggs, or cut the fork of a catapult, William was always the man to whom to apply; and he never failed in the performance of these services to win the entire satisfaction of his youthful admirers.

      "I am sorry he's gone," said Ida. "He was always so polite, and never grumbled when you asked him to run an errand."

      "It's time we were off," exclaimed Brian, glancing at the clock. – "Will you excuse me, aunt? I've got to find my books."

      The children rose from the table, and rushed out into the hall, where a fresh dispute, though of a friendly nature, occurred between Ida and Guy with regard to the ownership of a certain book-strap. There was a good deal of racing up and down stairs, and at length the bang of the front door proclaimed the fact that they had all started – the boys for the big school in the centre of the town, and the girls for one a little nearer home.

      "It seems strange that both Ida and Elsie should have had such queer fancies last night," said Mrs. Ormond to her husband as they remained seated together at the breakfast table.

      "What was it? I didn't quite catch what they were saying."

      "Why, Elsie says she was awakened by hearing the grindstone turning in the tool-house. She went down to see if it was Brian sharpening his chisels, but she got frightened, so returned and woke Ida. Then Ida declares that, when she went across to the boys' room to see if they were awake, Bob was in the house, and came running up the stairs to her; but Jane says that, when they came down this morning, Bob was outside in his kennel."

      "I expect Ida was more than half asleep," answered her father, "and thought she saw the dog. I know I've still gone on dreaming when I've been roused up suddenly out of a sound sleep. What Elsie heard was, no doubt, the wind."

      "But she says there was a light in the tool-house."

      "Oh,

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