"It don't signify," said her uncle. "Nobody else has been near the
place, and Emma's box has been searched.

"Thoroughly searched," testified Mrs. Negget.

"Now the point is, what did Mrs. Driver come for this morning?" resumed
the ex-constable. "Did she come--"

He broke off and eyed with dignified surprise a fine piece of wireless
telegraphy between husband and wife. It appeared that Mr. Negget sent
off a humorous message with his left eye, the right being for some reason
closed, to which Mrs. Negget replied with a series of frowns and staccato
shakes of the head, which her husband found easily translatable. Under
the austere stare of Mr. Bodfish their faces at once regained their
wonted calm, and the ex-constable in a somewhat offended manner resumed
his inquiries.

"Mrs. Driver has been here a good bit lately," he remarked, slowly.

Mr. Negget's eyes watered, and his mouth worked piteously.

"If you can't behave yourself, George--began began his wife, fiercely.

"What is the matter?" demanded Mr. Bodfish. "I'm not aware that I've
said anything to be laughed at."

"No more you have, uncle," retorted his niece; "only George is such a
stupid. He's got an idea in his silly head that Mrs. Driver--But it's
all nonsense, of course."