CHAPTER XXII.
THE SHANTY IN THE WOODS.
The reader may rest assured that Matt listened with deep interest to the words of the constable. He knew nothing of the man that had been mentioned as the probable thief, but he was willing to believe Jackson's supposition true.
"That Joe Yedley's cap?" returned Isaac Marvelling slowly.
"Certainly. You ought to know it well enough. He has worn nothing else for years."
"Humph! how did it get here?"
"The man must have dropped it in his haste to get away when I came here," said Matt. "He left in a big hurry."
"That's most likely it," said the constable. "To tell the truth, it looks just like a piece of Yedley's work," he added slowly. "He did it in order to get square, as much as anything, I reckon. He always resented being called a beggar."
"Humph!" muttered Isaac Marvelling, not par-
