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 come in. But she had to tell Asa something; so she told him about the mat in Lad's hair.

Asa went out and examined the dog.

"Nothing there now," he reported when he returned. "Hair there all cut off."

This brought her to the door to witness for herself that, since her discovery early that morning, some one had clipped the hair close under the dog's jaw. Who had done that? Kincheloe? Or Miss Platt? Or—her grandfather?

Vehemently she denied that last doubt to herself. It could not have been her grandfather who had done that cutting which meant knowledge of and aid in concealing murder; for it had become plain to her that some one had been killed; and it was no less plain to Asa. He had entertained the agency of spirits only when it seemed that Barney Loutrelle had been made away with and no trace left. Now Asa knew that spirits would not have needed to scrub a floor with a brush which had to be burned; spirits would not have required to enlarge a water hole in the lake ice.

"Somebody was killed here, Asa?"

"What else to think?"

"But who—Asa, who?"

"Who was here last night?" Asa returned logically.

She flinched. He meant, of course, her friend of yesterday, Barney Loutrelle. Hopelessly she had been struggling to down that conviction as she had been trying to down the dread that her grandfather could be concerned in crime.

"But who would have done it?" she demanded of Asa.

"Who did not want you to come here this morning?"

"Yes; but why? He could have had no reason."