"Maybe it don't make no difference to white folks, but looks like they's always 'spicioning n.i.g.g.e.rs," continued Manda, with a shake of her head.

"Tilly 'lows it's that thar ring of old Ma.r.s.e Gilpin's."

"Hardly," said Mrs. Parton, with a laugh. Belle, remembering the stranger, wondered if it might not be true.

Such talk among the servants of Friendship was nothing new. Since the first excitement over the disappearance of the ring, it had broken out periodically; but to Belle this morning it seemed a strange coincidence.

Suppose some one else had seen the ring in Morgan's possession? And now it occurred to her to tell Miss Celia.

On her way to the Fairs' she met the stranger again, this time in front of Mrs. Graham's school. He was looking about him with an air of interest, and as Belle approached he asked if this was not the Bishop residence.

"It was," she answered, "but it is a school now."

The gentleman thanked her and walked on.

"I believe he is a detective," she said to herself.

Celia was in her usual place in the arbor bending over a piece of embroidery, when Belle found her.

"Miss Celia, I have the strangest thing to tell you," she began, and then unfolded her story.

Celia listened in astonishment. "Why, Belle, it isn't possible--you don't think--"

"Miss Celia, I don't know. I saw the ring, and I know Morgan isn't a thief, but I don't understand it."

"No, indeed. Morgan, whom we have always known--who is honest as the day!"

Celia was silent for a moment, then she said, "Belle, it seems to me the only thing for you to do is to tell Mr. Whittredge. The ring belongs to him; he will know what to do far better than we, and he will think of Morgan, too."

"I would have told him, but he has gone away."

"Gone?"

Belle wondered a little at Miss Celia's tone; it was as if she cared a great deal.

"I don't think he will be gone long. He took Rosalind with him," she added.

"Then I should wait till his return. A few days more can't make much difference. You have been very wise not to mention it to any one."

But when Belle told about the supposed detective, Celia laughed and said she had a vivid imagination, and that it was only a coincidence that the old rumors should be revived just now.

As Belle went down the hill, feeling somewhat crestfallen and rather tired of the whole matter of the ring, she met Maurice and Jack. Jack had spent the night with Maurice, and now they were on their way to the landing to take some pictures with Maurice's new camera. They made no objection to her proposal to join them, so she turned back, feeling strongly tempted to tell her story to them; but she had agreed with Miss Celia that it was best not to talk about it until Mr. Whittredge's return, and Belle prided herself on her ability to keep a secret.

The interest of deciding what view would make the best picture made her forget the ring for a while; but as they sat on the edge of the dock waiting to catch a sailboat about to start out, she suddenly said, "Boys, I believe I saw a detective this morning," and she described the stranger.

"Why do you think he is a detective?" asked Maurice.

"Well, you know they always wear spectacles and try to look like ministers," she answered confidently.

"Pshaw! they have all sorts of disguises," said Jack.

"I don't care, I'm sure he is one, and I think he is looking for the ring." Belle pursed up her lips as much as to say she might tell more.

"You are trying to make us believe you know something," remarked Jack, with brotherly scorn.

"I do. Something I can't tell for--well, for several days."

"Who knows it beside you?" asked Maurice.

"Just Miss Celia."

If Miss Celia knew, it seemed worthy of more respect. "How did you find it out?" asked Jack.

"I can't tell you. It is a mystery; but, boys, I want to keep an eye on that man and see what he does," Belle said impressively.

"How about taking his picture?" suggested Maurice.

"Just the thing!" Belle clapped her hands. "Let's go look for him now."

Anything that promised some fun was hailed with delight. It had been a little dull in Rosalind's absence. When she was with them n.o.body was conscious of her leadership, but now she was away they were at a loss.

They waylaid old Mr. Biddle, driving in from the country with a load of apples, and demanded a ride which he good-naturedly allowed them, and they drove down the hill in state. When they came within sight of the post-office, Belle clutched Maurice's arm. "There he is," she whispered.

"Let's get out and wait for him. You have your camera ready."

The obliging Mr. Biddle stopped his horse and let his pa.s.senger out. As for the stranger, if he had known what was wanted of him, he couldn't have been more accommodating. He came slowly down the steps of the post-office, and stood within a few yards of the doorway, where three giggling young persons had taken shelter. Maurice had time for half a dozen pictures if he wanted them.

"He isn't a detective," whispered Jack, "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.