He had cause for hope. When, on his second morning at Temple Colney, the Daily had struck him to white agony by its newest headlines; cooling, he was able to find comfort in the news it gave to the world. “On the advice of the eminent detective, Mr. David Brunger, who has the case in hand, the reward has been raised to 125 pounds.”

“Whoop!” cried George, spirits returning.

III.

Three days had passed.

Rain began to fall heavily on this afternoon. Usually—even had there been floods—George did not return to the inn until seven o'clock. The less he was near the abode of man the safer was his vile secret. But to-day, when the clouds told him a steady downpour had set in, he put out for his lodging before three. He was in high spirits. Success was making him very bold. At Temple Colney, thus far, no breath of suspicion had paled his cheek; at Herons' Holt events were galloping to the end he would have them go. That morning the Daily had announced the raising of the reward to 150 pounds. True, the Daily added that Mr. Marrapit had declared, absolutely and finally, that he would not go one penny beyond this figure. George laughed as he read. In four days his uncle had raised the offer by fifty pounds; at this rate—and the rate would increase as Mr. Marrapit's anguish augmented—the 500 pounds would soon be reached. And then! And then!

Through the pouring rain George whistled up the village street, whistled up the stairs, whistled into the sitting—room. Then stopped his tune. The buoyant notes of triumph dwindled to a tuneless squeak, to a noiseless breathing—Bill Wyvern, seated at a table, sprung to meet him.

“What ho!” cried Bill. “They told me you wouldn't be in before seven! What ho! Isn't this splendid?”

George said in very hollow voice: “Splendid!” He put the basket on a chair; sat on it; gave Bill an answering, “What ho!” that was cheerful as rap upon a coffin lid.

“Well, how goes it?” Bill asked eagerly.

George put out a hand. “Don't come over here, dear old fellow. I'm streaming wet. Sit down there. How goes what?”