the dreary timber of the creek-side, to the Barton farm-house. As they
approached the barn, they saw Alfred Barton sitting on a pile of straw
and watching Giles, who was threshing wheat. He seemed a little
surprised at their appearance; but as Gilbert and he had not met since
their interview in the corn-field before the former's departure for
Chester, he had no special cause for embarrassment.

"Come into the house," he said, leading the way.

"No," Gilbert answered, "I came here to speak with you privately. Will
you walk down the lane?"

"No objection, of course," said Barton, looking from Gilbert to Miss
Lavender, with a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness. "Good news, I
hope; got hold of Sandy's tracks, at last?"

"One of them."

"Ah, you don't say so! Where?"

"Here!"

Gilbert stopped and faced Barton. They were below the barn, and out of
Giles's hearing.

"Barton," he resumed, "you know what interest I have in the arrest of
that man, and you won't deny my right to demand of you an account of
your dealings with him. When did you first make his acquaintance?"

"I've told you that, already; the matter has been fully talked over