He opened the door and entered very quietly, so that neither occupant of the room saw him before he spoke.

"I heard what you said--through the register----" he explained. "But I can't take the shotgun."

Both men turned and looked at him curiously, the first natural exclamations stilled on their lips by the sight of his straight, earnest little figure facing them.

"Why not, Bobby?" asked Mr. Orde at last.

"I was the one who fired that shot that hit Mr. Laughton's head. I did it a-purpose."

"What for?"

"I saw something brown in the brush, and I was sure it was a partridge, so I shot at it. I really didn't know it was a partridge. It just looked brown. You told me not to do that, lots of times, but I got all excited, and forgot. So you see I'm not careful, like you said. I ought not to have any shotgun."

"Oh, Bobby!" said Mr. Kincaid. "And that's one of the most important things of all!"

"I know, sir," said Bobby. "That's why I thought I'd tell you."

The two men examined the youngster for some time in silence. A very tender look lurked back in their eyes.

"What did you do then?" asked Mr. Orde at last.

"I saw the cap fly up in the air, and ran."

"Yes?"

"And then after a little I saw Mr. Kincaid come out down below, and I thought it was all right until I got home."

"Why did you jump up in court this afternoon?"

"I knew where I was standing, and I saw a scar on Laughton's head, and then I knew if the holes in the cap were low down, he must have been the man."

"Why didn't you tell all this before?"

"I'd never seen the cap; and I thought Mr. Kincaid had done it. I wasn't going to give him away."

Both men burst into laughter.

"And you thought I'd kill a man!&quo............