d been standing. When, in my astonishment, I advanced upon him
there, he wheeled about quite naturally in my direction and, accosting me
by name, remarked, in his genial off-hand manner:

"There is no need for us to tire our legs in a chase after that man. I
know him well enough."

"And who--" I began.

A quizzical smile answered me. The light was now in our faces, and I had
a perfect view of his. Its expression quite disarmed me; but I knew, as
well as if he had spoken, that I should receive no other reply to my
half-formed question.

"Are you going back into town?" he asked, as I paused and looked down at
the umbrella swinging in his hand. I was sure that he had not held this
umbrella when he started by me on the run. "If so, will you allow me to
walk beside you for a little way?"

I could not refuse him; besides, I was not sure that I wanted to. Homely
as any man I had ever seen, there was a magnetic quality in his voice and
manner that affected even one so fastidious as myself. I felt that I had
rather talk to him, at that moment, than to any other person I knew. Of
course, curiosity had something to do with it, and that community of
interest which is the strongest bond that can link two people together.

"You are quite welcome," said I; and again cast my eye at the umbrella.

"You are wondering where I got this," he remarked, looking down at it in
his turn. "I found it leaning against the fence. It gives me all the clue
I need to our fleet-footed friend. Mr. Ranelagh, will you credit me with
good intentions if I ask a question or two which you may or may not be
willing to answer?"

"You may ask what you will," said I. "I have nothing to conceal, since
hearing Miss Cumberland's explanation of her presence at The
Whispering Pines."

"Ah!"

The ejaculation was eloquent. So was the silence which followed it.
Without good reason, perhaps, I felt the strain upon my heart loosen a
little. Was it possible that I should find a friend in this man?

"The question I am going to ask," he continued presently, "is one which
you may consider unpardonable. Let me first express an opinion. You have
not told all that you know of that evening's doings."

This called for no reply and I made none.

"I can understand your reticence, if your knowledge included the fact of
Miss Cumberland's heroic act and her sister's manner of death at the
club-house."

"But it did not," I asserted, with deliberate emphasis. "I knew nothi