I'll bet a dime he is a
minister."

"I said he looked like a minister," Belle retorted.

"I am going to Burke's to get him to show me about developing," said
Maurice, as the stranger moved away, "Wouldn't it be fun if we could have
his picture to show Rosalind when she comes to-morrow?"

"Is she coming to-morrow? Oh, I am glad!" said Belle.

"Let's follow and see where he goes," Jack proposed, as Maurice left them;
and Belle nothing loath, they dogged the steps of the supposed detective.
She was both alarmed and triumphant when he was seen to turn into Church
Lane, but all other emotions were swallowed up in surprise when, instead
of crossing to the magician's shop, he entered Miss Betty Bishop's front
gate.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD.

THE DETECTIVE.

"'Twas I, but 'tis not I."

The next morning Belle and Jack awaited the 10.30 train, seated together
on a trunk on the station platform. Celia saw them from the door of the
express office across the road. Presently they recognized her and began to
wave, and then Belle came flying over to tell her how they had taken the
detective's picture and had afterward seen him enter Miss Betty's gate.

"Why should a detective go to Miss Betty's?" Celia asked, much amused.

"Why should he go if he wasn't a detective?" Belle demanded.

"Why not? He may be an agent, or a friend," Celia suggested, laughing.

A whistle in the distance left no time for argument. Belle flew back to
the platform, where Maurice had joined Jack. Celia turned toward home.

She was more perplexed over Belle's story about the ring than she cared to
own. Not for a moment did she think Morgan had taken it; and yet he was
getting to be an old man and she recalled something she had heard her
father say about a certain brain disease that first showed itself in acts
wholly out of keeping with the character of its victim. Could this be the
explanation?

It was a relief to know that it would soon be in Allan Whittredge's hands.
That he would do the kindest, wisest thing, she never thought of doubting.

She had heard with a sinking of heart that he had gone away, and she
scorned herself for the sensation of relief when Belle added, it was only
for a few days. Celia deeply regretted the way in which she had met his
request to speak with her that night at Friendly Creek. Why could she not
have listened quietly? In these days she was torn by conflicting feelings.
The spirit of the Forest was slowly temper