He took the chair vacated by his mother as she entered the house with
Olive, and with his hands hanging limply over the sides sat in deep
thought. After a time he rose, and going upstairs to a room which was
set apart for sporting requisites selected a sea fishing line and some
hooks and stole softly downstairs again. He walked swiftly across the
park in the direction of the well, turning before he entered the shadow
of the trees to look back at the lighted windows of the house. Then
having arranged his line he sat on the edge of the well and cautiously
lowered it.

He sat with his lips compressed, occasionally looking about him in a
startled fashion, as though he half expected to see something peering at
him from the belt of trees. Time after time he lowered his line until at
length in pulling it up he heard a little metallic tinkle against the
side of the well.

He held his breath then, and forgetting his fears drew the line in inch
by inch, so as not to lose its precious burden. His pulse beat rapidly,
and his eyes were bright. As the line came slowly in he saw the catch
hanging to the hook, and with a steady hand drew the last few feet in.
Then he saw that instead of the bracelet he had hooked a bunch of keys.

With a faint cry he shook them from the hook into the water below, and
stood breathing heavily. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night.
He walked up and down a bit and stretched his great muscles; then he came
back to the well and resumed his task.

For an hour or more the line was lowered without result. In his
eagerness he forgot his fears, and with eyes bent down the well fished