Josie sighed regretfully.

   "I like to hear about these mysterious things," said she. "It's almost as good as reading a story. Only, in this case, we will never know how the story ends."

   "Well, perhaps not," admitted the dressmaker. "Joselyn is gone and no one'll ever get the truth out of Cragg. But—I'd like to know, myself, not only how the story ends but what it was all about. Just now all we know is that there

    was

   a story, of some sort or other, and perhaps is yet."

   A period of silence, while both mused.

   "I don't suppose you could find a bit of red thread?" said Josie.

   "No, I haven't used it for ages. Is it to mend with?"

   "Yes."

   "If it's a red dress, use black thread. It won't show, if you're careful; and it won't fade away and leave a white streak, like red sometimes does."

   "Thank you, Miss Huckins." She rose to go. "I'd like to drop in again, sometime, for a little visit."

   "Come as often as you like," was the cordial reply.

   "Cragg's Crossing people are rather interesting; they're so different from city folks," said Josie.

   "Yes, they really are, and I know most of them pretty well. Come in again, Josie."

   "Thank you; I will."

     CHAPTER IX

   JOSIE INVESTIGATES

   "Well, what luck?" asked Mary Louise, as she came into Josie's room while her friend was dressing for dinner.

   "Not much," was the reply. "I'm not at all sure, Mary Louise, that this chase will amount to anything. But it will afford me practice in judging human nature, if nothing else comes of it, so I'm not at all sorry you put me on the trail. When are we to see Ingua again?"

   "To-morrow afternoon. She's coming to tea in the pavilion."

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