"Where is this girl, Mary Murphy?" asked Ned, turning to Jack. "We
must get hold of her right away. I want to hear her story of what she
saw in the attic."

Jack went out of the room, but was back in a minute with the girl, a
pretty, modest maid of about eighteen. She looked frightened at
finding herself the center of interest, but was soon in the midst of
her story.

"I went up to the attic to get a piece of cloth for a bandage, Sally
having cut her hand with the bread knife. When I got to the door of
that room I heard some one inside of it. I listened at the crack
there is between the panel and the stile and heard footsteps, slow
and soft like. I thought it was one of the maids, and opened the door
quick, so as to give her a scare."

The girl paused and wiped her face with a white apron bordered with
pink.

"Go on," Ned requested. "Tell us what you saw in the attic."

"It wasn't much, sir," was the agitated answer. "I saw just a flash
of dark blue, coming at me like the lightning express, and then I was
keeled over--just as if I had been a bag of meal, sir!"

"He bunted into you, did he?" asked Jack. "Who was it?"

"Indeed I don't know, sir," was the reply. "It was dim in the room,
there being only the light from the hall as I opened the door. Then
he came at me with such a bunt that it took the breath out of me