“Sticking in the wall of course,” replied Stephen.
The two boys ran out on the piazza, but returned empty-handed.
“Mystery of mysteries!” cried Jimmie, “the knife is gone!”
“It is impossible,” exclaimed the major. “We have not left this room. We could see anyone who came upon the piazza.”
“Well, it’s gone,” said Jimmie. “While you were nursing José, somebody must have crept up and got it.”
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Miss Sallie. “Do you mean to say that the murderer has been that close to us again? Do close those windows and draw the curtains.”
“Yes, do so,” said the major. “Mary,” he continued to the housekeeper, who was entering at that moment with a basin of water, “I wish you would have all the men on the place sent to me. Some of them may be asleep, but wake them up. We shall scour every part of the estate to-night. If there’s anybody hiding around here we shall rout him out.”
Mary hurried off to deliver her orders, while the boys ran to their rooms to get on tennis shoes and collect various weapons.
“I am sorry José was scratched,” Martin confided to Alfred, “but—well, this is pretty good sport, old man. Don’t you think so?”
“By Jove, it is,” replied Alfred with enthusiasm. “If that assassin should leap at us in the dark I should like to give him a nip with this shillalah. What a beastly coward he was to attack a man when his back was turned!”