“Let me look at it. Isn’t it Mr. Dugald’s?”
“No, it isn’t Mr. Dugald’s. He hasn’t been out here for a week. And that knife wasn’t here yesterday for I’d a’ seen it.”
“Let me look at it, Lav,” pleaded Sidney, for Lav, a curious expression on his face, had covered the knife with his hand.
“It’s funny, that’s all I got to say. I mean—how it come here.”
“Lavender Green, show me that knife this minute! You act so mysterious and I have a right to know why.”
Slowly Lavender placed the knife in Sidney’s eager hands. It was an ordinary case knife such as the fishermen carried, but Lavender pointed to two initials that had been carved on the case.
“J.S.”
“J.S.” repeated Sidney; then she cried: “Why—J.S.! That’s Jed Starrow!”
“Sure it’s Jed Starrow!”
“But how did it get on the Arabella?”