as he following up the clue
on his own account?

Clarence felt an unaccountable desire to know where the detective was
going. If he were going to Bellair, then he must be bought over. If he
were going to Bellair, he, Clarence, must know it before the village
was reached. It was hardly probable that the man's destination was
identical with his own, but he had now determined to run no risks.

Throwing back his overcoat, and setting his hat a trifle on one side,
Clarence sauntered up to the group of card players, assuming an
appearance of interest in the game. As he paused beside them, Jarvis
swept away the last trick of a closely-contested game, and then said,
consulting his watch the while:

"There's for you! I've got just three-quarters of an hour to clean you
out in, so come on."

[Illustration: "Jarvis swept away the last trick of a
closely-contested game."--page 324.]

Three-quarters of an hour! The exact time it would take to run to
Bellair.

Clarence shifted his position so as to put himself behind the two men
seated opposite Jarvis. As he did so, the expert glanced up,
encountering the eye of Dr. Vaughan.

"How are you?" said that young man, nonchalantly.

Jarvis shot him a keen glance of intelligence, and replied, in the
same off-hand tone: "High, you bet!"

Jarvis was attired like a well-to-do farmer; and Clarence guessed, at
a glance, that his three companions were strangers, two of them being
commercial tourists, without a doubt, and the third, a ruddy-looking
old gent, who might have been anything harmless. Taking his cue from
the "make up" of the detective, Clarence, after giving him an
expressive glance, said, easily, "Sold your stock?"

Jarvis cocked up one eye as he replied, while shuffling the cards:
"Every horn!"

"Want to buy?"

Jarvis looked him straight in the eye. "Want to sell?"

"Yes, rather."

Jarvis dealt round with great precision, and then said: "All right,
Cap. I'll talk with you when I get through this game."

Clarence nodded, and presently sauntered away. As soon as his back was
turned, Jarvis jerked his thumb toward him, saying, confidentially:

"Young fellow; swell farmer; big stock-raiser." And then he plunged
into the game with much enthusiasm.

Clarence resumed his seat and, for a few moments, thought very
earnestly. The words of the detective had confirmed his suspicion. He
now felt assured that Jarvis was bound for Bellair, and if so he was,
no doubt, in the e