"It's playing a mean game on the old lady, too, to take those opals so slick, and give her all that bad feeling; but if she will keep such tricky pets, why she's got to pay for it, that's all, Fred."
"Pets!" burst out the other.
"Sure thing," laughed Bristles; "that wise old crow's the guilty thief!"
"The black raven that she brought over from England, you mean?" Fred went on, rather staggered himself by what Bristles had said, and yet discovering an element of possible truth in it.
"Yes, the old chap that cocks his head on one side when you come in, and examines you over from head to foot, just like he meant to say, 'If you're not good looking you're not wanted here!' Oh! he's a gay old villain, I just tell you! And, Fred, mark my words, he's the scamp who's been taking Aunty's opals."
"Why, I do remember reading, more than a few times, that crows and ravens have been known to fly away with bright spoons, and all sorts of things that seem to catch their fancy; but I never heard of a bird stealing from its mistress, and opals at that."
"Well, that's what this one is doing, you mark me," Bristles said, positively. "Why, just see what a great chance the old boy has. He finds the door open into the parlor once in a while, and just hops in, takes up one of the shiny stones, and carries it away to some place where he keeps his treasures. I just bet you now he's been carryin' on that way a long time, and Aunty never noticed that things were disappearing till I began to come over to see her."
"You think so, do you, Bristles?" remarked Fred, still pondering over the matter, and wondering in his mind whether it could really be an explanation for the peculiar little mystery that had given his chum so much heart-pain.
"Why, it's a dead open-and-shut cinch that the answer to the conundrum lies in that silly old black bunch of feathers," declared the other, conviction in his voice. "I looked up all about ravens in our big 'cyclopædia as soon as I got downstairs this morning; and the more I read, the stronger my mind got that Black Joe must be the guilty one."
"Will you go and tell your aunt, and ask her to make a search for his hiding-place?" Fred inquired.