Bob looked disagreeable, but he had to reply. “I’m sure he doesn’t think what you do,” he answered ill-humoredly. Dolly looked relieved, but still slightly dubious. She didn’t appear to notice that lack of appreciation in Bob’s manner for her interest in his welfare. “Well, you’d better see him,” she said in the tone of one who had already established herself to the post of secret adviser. “He’s bent on an interview with you. Says it’s business. And speaking about business, what business could he possibly have in that dinky little town? Unless he wanted to buy the whole village! His conduct is, to say the least, slightly mysterious. Dickie may prove a factor to be reckoned with.” “That’s true enough,” assented Bob, and went in to breakfast. The temperamental little thing gazed after him approvingly; she quite gloried in her big burglar. It was so nice to know something no one else knew, to be a little wiser than all the rest of the world, including the police and the detective force! Bob must be terribly resourceful and subtle, to have deceived them all so thoroughly. He only seemed a little dense at times, just to keep up the deception. It was a part of the role. He wouldn’t even let her, who knew his secret, see under the surface and she liked him all the better for his reticence. It lent piquancy to the situation and added zest to the game. Dickie’s manner had certainly seemed to her unduly sober. He appeared to have something on his mind, though of course he was awfully eager and joyous about seeing her. At the breakfast-table Bob only dallied with his hot rolls and took but a few gulps of coffee. The monocle-man who sat near by noticed that want of appetite. “Don’t seem very keen for your feed this morning,” he observed jocularly. “No, not over-peckish,” answered Bob. “Why not? You look—aw—fit enough!” Reaching for one of those racks for unbuttered toast which Mrs. Ralston had brought home with her from London. “Headache, for one thing,” returned Bob. It was the truth, or part of the truth. No one looked sympathetic, however. In fact, with the exception of the monocle-man (Mrs. Ralston hadn’t yet come down), every one in there made it apparent he or she desired as little as possible of Mr. Bennett’s society. Bob soon got up, casting a last bitter glance at Miss Gerald who seemed quite contented with her stalwart, honest-looking hammer-thrower. And why not? His character, Bob reflected, was unimpeachable. He looked so good and honest and so utterly wholesome that Bob, who himself was tainted with suspicion, wanted to get out of his presence. So Bob went out to the porch, to hunt up Dickie and ascertain what was the matter with him?