Mr. Beardsley, the deputy sheriff, conducted Donald to the elegant mansion of Captain Patterdale. Perhaps no one who saw them walking together suspected that the boat-builder was charged with so gross a crime as stealing the tin box and its valuable contents. Some persons do not like to walk through the streets with sheriffs and policemen; but Donald was not of that sort, for in spite of all the evidence brought against him, he obstinately refused to believe that he was guilty. Even the fact that several notes and other papers had been found in the shop did not impair his belief in his own innocence. Captain Patterdale was in his library nervously awaiting the return of the officer, when they arrived.

"Don John, I hope you will come out of this all right," said he, as they entered.

"I have no doubt I shall, sir," replied Donald. "If I don't, it will be because I can't prove what is the truth."

Mr. Beardsley reported the result of the search, and handed the captain the four fifty-dollar bills with the papers.

"I have no doubt all these were in the tin box," said the nabob, sadly. "The bills are like those paid me by Hasbrook, and these notes are certainly mine. I don't ask you to commit yourself, Don John, but—"

"Commit myself!" exclaimed Donald, with a look of contempt, which, in this connection, was sublime. "I mean to speak the truth, whether I am committed or not."

"Perhaps you will be able to clear this thing up," added Captain Patterdale. "I wish to ask you a few questions."

"I will answer them truly. The only wrong I have done was to conceal what I thought there was no harm in concealing."

"It is not wise to do things in the dark."

"You will excuse me, sir, but you have done the same thing. If I had known that your tin box was stolen, I should have understood several things which are plain to me now."

"What, for instance?"

"If I had known it, I should have brought these bills to you as soon as Laud paid them to me, to see if they belonged to you. And I should have known why Laud was digging clams on Turtle Head."

"Laud says he paid you no money."

"He paid me three hundred and fifty dollars for the Juno—these four bills and the three I paid Mr. Leach."

"He persists that he don't own the Juno, and says that Captain Shivernock lets him have the use of her for taking care of her," continued the nabob.

Donald's face, which had thus far been clouded with anxiety, suddenly lighted up with a cheerful smile, as he produced the cover of an old tuck-diary, which contained the papers of Ramsay & Son. He opened it, and took therefrom the bill of sale of the Juno, in the well-known writing of Captain Shivernock.

"Does that prove anything?" he asked, as he tossed the paper on the desk, within reach of the inquisitor.

"It proves that Captain Shivernock sold the Juno to you, and consequently he has not owned her since the date of this bill," replied the nabob, as he read the paper.

"Is it likely, then, that Captain Shivernock lets Laud have the use of her for taking care of her?" demanded Donald, warmly.

"Certainly not."

"Is it any more likely that, if I own the Juno, I should let Laud use her for nothing, for he says he never paid me a dollar?"

"I don't think it is."

"Then you can believe as much as you please of the rest of Laud's story, which Mr. Beardsley related to me as we walked up," added Donald.

"He says he saw you have the tin box, Don John."

"And I saw him digging clams in the loam on Turtle Head."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I think he buried the tin box there. I saw where he had been digging, but I didn't know any tin box had been stolen then, and thought nothing of it," answered Donald.

At this moment there was a tremendous ring at the door bell, a ring that evidently "meant business." Captain Patterdale opened the door himself, and Captain Shivernock stalked into the room as haughtily as though he owned the elegant mansion. He had been to Newport and Cape May to keep cool, and had arrived a couple of hours before from Portland. Mrs. Sykes had told him all the news she could in this time, and among other things informed him that Captain Patterdale and the deputy sheriff had called to inquire whether Laud had the use of the boat for taking care of her. By this he knew that the tin trunk matter was under investigation. He was interested, and possibly he was alarmed; at any rate, he went to his safe, put the roll of fifty-dollar bills in his pocket, and hastened over to Captain Patterdale's house.

"When people come to my house, and I'm not at home, I don't like to have them talk to my servants about my affairs," blustered the strange man.

"I don't think we meddled with your affairs any further than to ask if Laud Cavendish had the use of the Juno for taking care of her," explained Captain Patterdale.

"It don't concern you. Laud Cavendish does have the use of the Juno for taking care of her."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the good nabob, glancing at Donald.

"Indeed!" sneered the wicked nabob. "You needn't indeed anything I say. I can speak the truth better than you psalm-singers."

"I am very glad you can, Captain Shivernock, for that is what we are in need of just now," laughed the good nabob. "And since we have meddled with your affairs in your absence, it is no more than right that we should explain the reason for doing so. A tin box, containing nearly fourteen hundred dollars in bills, and many valuable papers, was stolen from this room. Three persons, Jacob Hasbrook, Laud Cavendish, and Don John here, passed through the library when they left the house."

"Hasbrook stole it; he is the biggest scoundrel of the three," added the wicked nabob.

"Perhaps not," continued the good nabob. "A bill which I can identify came back to me the other day. Don John paid it to Mr. Leach, and he to me. Don John says Laud Cavendish paid him the bill."

"And so he did," protested Donald, as the captain glanced at him.

"And I gave it to Laud Cavendish," added Captain Shivernock; thus carrying out the programme which had been agreed upon the night before he went on his journey.

Possibly, if Mr. Laud Cavendish had known that the wicked nabob had returned, he would have hastened to see him, and inform him of the change he had made in the programme. If he had done so, their stories might have agreed better. Captain Patterdale, Mr. Beardsley, and Donald were astonished at this admission.

"For what did you pay it to him?" asked the good nabob.

"None of your business what I paid it to him for. That's my affair," bluffed the wicked nabob.

"But this bill was in the box."

"But how do you know it was? I suppose you will say next that I stole the box."

"I hope you will assist me in tracing out this matter," said the good nabob, as he produced the mended bill. "This is the one; I call it the white cross of Denmark."

Captain Shivernock picked up the bill, and took from his pocket his own roll of fifties.

"You must admit that the bill is peculiar enough to be easily identified," added Captain Patter dale.

"I don't admit it," said the strange man, as he threw the four mended bills together on the desk.

"Now, which is it?"

The wicked nabob laughed and roared in his delight when he saw the confusion of the good nabob.

"They are very like," said the good.

"But three of them are mine, and haven't been out of my hands since the 'white cross of Denmark' was put upon them," added the wicked, still shaking his sides with mirth.

"Still I can identify the one that was in the box. That is it;" and Captain Patterdale held up the right one. "This has been folded, while yours have simply been rolled, and have not a crease in them. Hasbrook paid me the money that was stolen."

"The villain swindled it out of me," growled the wicked.

"But he folded his money, however he got it," continued the good.

"I can bring you a dozen bills with the white cross on them," blustered the wicked, "and all of them folded like that one."

"Can you tell where you got it, captain?"

"From the bank," replied he, promptly; and then more to have his hit at the missionaries than to explain the white cross, he told how the bills were torn. "That's all I have to say," he added; and he stalked out of the house, in spite of the host's request for him to remain, without giving a word or even a look to Donald.

"I am astonished," said Captain Patterdale. "Can it be possible that he paid that bill to Laud?"

Perhaps this was the joke of the strange man—simply to confuse and confound a "psalm-singer."

"It looks as though we had lost the clew," said the deputy sheriff. "At any rate, Don John's story is confirmed."

"Why should the captain give Laud so much money?" mused the nabob.

"I know," said Donald. "I told you, in the first place, that I knew where Laud got the money to pay for the Juno; but it was a great secret affecting another person, and he wished me not to tell."

"I remember that, Don John," added the captain.

"He told me that Captain Shivernock gave him the money; but he would not tell me why he gave it to him; but I knew without any telling, for the captain gave me sixty dollars, besides the Juno, for holding my tongue."

"About what?" asked the nabob, deeply interested in the narrative.

"I don't understand the matter myself; but I will state all the facts, though Captain Shivernock threatened to kill me if I did so. On the morning after the Hasbrook outrage, while I was waiting on Turtle Head for the Yacht Club to arrive, the captain came to the Head, saying he had walked over from Seal Harbor, where he had got aground in his boat. I sailed him down, and on the way he gave me the money. Then he said I was not to mention the fact that I had seen him on Long Island, or anywhere else. I didn't make any promises, and told him I wouldn't lie about it. Then he gave me the Juno, and took my boat, which he returned that night. After I went up in the Juno, I met Laud, and offered to sell him the boat. When we parted, he stood over towards the Northport shore, where Captain Shivernock had gone, and I thought they would meet; but I lost sight of them."

"Then you think the captain paid Laud the money when they met."

"That was what I supposed when Laud paid me for the boat. I believed it was all right. I had a talk with Laud afterwards about it, and I told him how he got the money. He did not deny what I said."

"This was the morning after the Hasbrook outrage—was it?" asked Mr. Beardsley.

"Yes, it was; but I knew nothing about that till night."

"We can easily understand why the captain did not want to be seen near Lincolnville," added the sheriff. "It was he who pounded Hasbrook for swindling him."

"No, sir; I think not," interposed Donald. "I inquired into that matter myself. Mr. Sykes and his wife both told me, before the captain got home, that he left his house at four o'clock in the morning."

"I am afraid they were instructed to say that," said the nabob.

"They shall have a chance to say it in court under oath," added the officer; "for I will arrest the captain to-morrow for the outrage. I traced the steps of a man over to Saturday Cove, in Northport, and that is where he landed."

"Was it the print of the captain's boot?" asked the nabob.

"No; but I have a theory which I shall work up to-morrow. Don John's evidence is the first I have obtained, that amounts to anything."

"If he pounded Hasbrook, why should he run over to Seal Harbor, when he had a fair wind to come up?" asked Donald.

"To deceive you, as it seems he has," laughed Mr. Beardsley. "Probably getting aground deranged his plans."

"But he ran over to Northport after we parted."

"Because it was a better place to conceal himself during the day. Sykes says he went down to Vinal Haven that day. I know he did not. Now, Don John, we must go to Turtle Head to-night, and see about that box."

"I am ready, sir."

"I will go with you," added Captain Patterdale; "and we will take the Sea Foam."

Donald was permitted to go home and comfort his mother with the assurance that he was entirely innocent of the crime with which he was charged; and great was the joy of his mother and sister. The mainsail of the Sea Foam was hoisted when he went on board. The wind was rather light, and it was midnight before the yacht anchored off Turtle Head. The party went ashore in the tender, the sheriff carrying a lantern and a shovel. Donald readily found the place where the earth had been disturbed by Laud's clam-digger. Mr. Beardsley dug till he came to a rock, and it was plain that no tin box was there.

"But I am sure that Laud had been digging here, for I saw the print of his clam-digger," said Donald.

"This hole had been dug before," added the sheriff.

"Even Laud Cavendish would not be fool enough to bury the box in such an exposed place as this," suggested Captain Patterdale.

"I know he came down here on the day the box was stolen," said Donald, "and that he was here with his clam-digger on the day I met Captain Shivernock. He must have put those papers in the shop."

"If the box was ever buried here, it has been removed," added the captain.

"Just look at the dirt which came out of the hole," continued Mr. Beardsley, pointing to the heap, and holding the lantern over it. "What I threw out last is beach gravel. That was put in to fill up the hole after he had taken out the box. When he first buried it, he had to carry off some of the yellow loam. In my opinion, the box has been here."

"It is not here now, and we may as well return," replied Captain Patterdale. "I am really more desirous of finding the papers in the box than the money."

"He has only chosen a new hiding-place for it," said the sheriff. "If we say nothing, and keep an eye on him for a few days, we may find it."

As this was all that could be done, the party returned to the city; and early in the morning Donald went to bed, to obtain the rest he needed before the great day. Possibly Mr. Beardsley slept some that night, though it is certain he was at Saturday Cove, in Northport, the next forenoon. He had a "theory;" and when a man has a theory, he will sometimes go without his sleep in order to prove its truth or its falsity. Jacob Hasbrook was with him, and quite as much interested in the theory as the officer, who desired to vindicate his reputation as a detective. He had driven to the house of the victim of the outrage, and looked the matter over again in the light of the evidence obtained from the boat-builder.

"I have been trying to see Donald Ramsay," said Hasbrook. "I have been to his shop four times, but he's always off on some boat scrape. You say he saw Captain Shivernock the next morning."

"Yes; and the captain didn't want to be seen, which is the best part of the testimony. If it was he, it seems to me you would have known him when he hammered you."

"How could I, when he was rigged up so different, with his head all covered up?" replied Hasbrook, impatiently. "The man was about the captain's height, but stouter."

"He was dressed for the occasion," added the sheriff, as he walked to the shore, where the skiff lay.

They dragged it down to the water,—for it was low tide,—and got into it. Beardsley had traced to the cove the print of the heavy boot, which first appeared in some loam under the window where the ruffian had entered Hasbrook's house. He found it in the sand on the shore; and he was satisfied that the perpetrator of the outrage had arrived and departed in a boat. He had obtained from the captain's boot-maker a description of his boots, but none corresponded with those which had made the prints in Northport and Lincolnville.

At the cove all clew to the ruffian had been lost; but now it was regained.

The sheriff paddled the skiff out from the shore in the direction of Seal Island. The water was clear, and they could see the bottom, which they examined very carefully as they proceeded.

"I see it," suddenly exclaimed Hasbrook, as he grasped the boat-hook.

"Lay hold of it," added the sheriff. "I knew I was right."

"I have it."

Hasbrook hauled up what appeared to be a bundle of old clothes, and deposited it in the bottom of the skiff. Mr. Beardsley had worked up his case very thoroughly, though it was a little singular that he had not thought to ask Donald any questions; but these investigations had been made when the boat-builder was at home all the time, and the detective did not like to talk about the case any more than was necessary. He had ascertained that Captain Shivernock wore his usual gray suit when Donald saw him after the outrage, and he came to the conclusion that the ruffian had been disguised, for Hasbrook would certainly have known him, even in the dark, in his usual dress. They returned to the shore; and the bundle was lifted, to convey it to the beach.

"It is very heavy," said Hasbrook. "I suppose there is a rock in it to sink it."

"Open it, and throw out the rock," added the sheriff.

Instead of a rock, the weight was half a pig of lead, which had evidently been chopped into two pieces with an axe.

"That's good evidence, for the ballast of the Juno is pig lead," said Beardsley, as he stepped on the beach with the clothes in his hand.

They were spread on the sand, and consisted of a large blue woolen frock, such as farmers sometimes wear, a pair of old trousers of very large size, and a pair of heavy cow-hide boots.

"Now I think of it, the man had a frock on," exclaimed Hasbrook.

"That's what made him look stouter than the captain," added Beardsley, as he proceeded to measure one of the boots, and compare it with the notes he had made of the size of the footprints. "It's a plain case; these boots made those tracks."

"And here's the club he pounded me with," said Hasbrook, taking up a heavy stick that had been in the bundle.

"But where in the world did Captain Shivernock get these old duds?" mused the sheriff.

"Of course he procured them to do this job with," replied Hasbrook.

"That's clear enough; but where did they come from? He has covered his tracks so well, that he wouldn't pick these things up near home."

"There comes a boat," said the victim of the outrage, as a sail rounded the point.

"Get out of the way as quick as you can," added the sheriff, in excited tones, as he led the way into the woods near the cove, carrying the wet clothes and boots with him.

"What's the matter now?" demanded Hasbrook.

"That boat is the Juno; Laud Cavendish is in her, and I want to know what he is about. Don't speak a word, or make a particle of noise. If you do, he will sheer off; and I want to see the ballast in that boat."

Laud ran his craft up to the rocks on one side of the cove, where he could land from her; but as it is eleven o'clock, the hour appointed for the regatta, we must return to the city.