there are two on each side, each opposite the corresponding mark of the
other pair. The match, in fact, would seem to have been gripped in some
fairly sharp instrument, holding it at two points above and two below--an
instrument, as it may at once strike you, not unlike the beak of a bird.

"Now here was an idea. What living creature but a bird could possibly have
entered Mrs. Heath's window without a ladder--supposing no ladder to have
been used--or could have got into Mrs. Armitage's window without lifting
the sash higher than the eight or ten inches it was already open? Plainly,
nothing. Further, it is significant that only _one_ article was stolen at
a time, although others were about. A human being could have carried any
reasonable number, but a bird could only take one at a time. But why
should a bird carry a match in its beak? Certainly it must have been
trained to do that for a purpose, and a little consideration made that
purpose pretty clear. A noisy, chattering bird would probably betray
itself at once. Therefore it must be trained to keep quiet both while
going for and coming away with its plunder. What readier or more probably
effectual way than, while teaching it to carry without dropping, to teach
it also to keep quiet while carrying? The one thing would practically
cover the other.

"I thought at once, of course, of a jackdaw or a magpie--these birds'
thievish reputations made the guess natural. But the marks on the match
were much too wide apart to have been made by the beak of either. I
conjectured, therefore, that it must be a raven. So that, when we arrived
near the coach-house, I seized the opportunity of a little chat with your
groom on the subject of dogs and pets in general, and ascertained that
there was no tame raven in the place. I also, incidentally, by getting a
light from the coach-house box of matches, ascertained that the match
found was of the sort generally used about the establishment--the large,