Jack looked at the blade casually at first, then cried out that there
was blood on it, and that Mary had speared the sneak.

"Yes," Ned explained, "there is blood on it. Mary hit the fellow on
the head with this blade. What else do you see on the steel?" he
asked with a smile.

Jimmie looked and backed away in disgust. His freckled face was
thrust out of the door for an instant, and they heard him calling to
Mary, who, being in the kitchen, beyond sound of his voice, did not
respond.

"What do you want of Mary?" demanded Jack. "Shall I call her?"

"She said it was the Chink, didn't she?" the boy asked. "Or, she said
it was a man dressed like the Chink? Well, it wasn't the Chink."

Ned laughed and looked at the boy admiringly.

"How do you know that?" he asked. "Why are you so sure it was not the
Chink?"

Jimmie looked up into Ned's face with a provoking grin.

"You know just as well as I do that it wasn't the Chink," he said.
"Just you look on that blade again! Ever see a Chink with light brown
hair?"

"Now, what do you think of that?" roared Jack. "Sometimes this boy,