rking that dust didn't hurt
boys.

Rosalind laid the book on the table among the scraps of leather, open at
the page where Maurice had written the name of the society and the motto.
Pointing to it, they explained that they wished him to join.

Adjusting his spectacles, the magician carefully read the constitution.

"The Secret of the Forest? What's that?" he asked.

Rosalind pointed to the motto, whereupon he nodded approvingly, and went
on. "Search for the ring--" he looked up questioningly; but when it was
explained, he shook his head. "Stolen," he said.

Reciprocity seemed to amuse him greatly. He repeated it several times,
glancing from one to the other of his visitors.

"Do you suppose he knows what it means?" Maurice asked Rosalind.

The magician's quick eyes understood the question. "Golden Rule?" he
asked.

"Why, I did not think of that!" cried Rosalind.

"Morgan has a lot of sense," Maurice replied, with an air of
proprietorship.

When he had read it all, the magician nodded approvingly. "I'll have to
join because you have my motto," he said.

"Then we have six members to begin with," Rosalind remarked joyfully.

By this time it had grown dark again and the rain was beginning to fall,
and while the magician, having a good deal on hand, continued his work,
Maurice and Rosalind sat on the claw-footed sofa, regardless of dust.
Curly Q. and Crisscross both sought refuge in the shop, and the latter
proved himself capable of sociability by jumping up beside Rosalind.

"Morgan really does make me think of a magician," she said, stroking
Crisscross and looking at the cabinet-maker. "I saw a picture once called
'The Magician's Doorway.' It was all of rich, polished marble, and you
could look down a long dim passage where a blue light burned. Just at the
entrance a splendid tiger was chained, and above his head hung a silver
horn."

"Was the horn to call the magician?" asked Maurice.

"Yes, I suppose so; and you couldn't get it without going very near the
tiger. Cousin Louis promised to write a story about it, but he never had
time."

A flash of lightning, followed immediately by a clap of thunder, startled
them. Maurice went to the door and looked out. "It is going to be a big
storm," he said.

As he spoke the rain began to fall in torrents, hiding Miss Betty's house
across the street from view. Suddenly a solitary figure with a dripping
umbrella was almost swept into the shop.

"Why, Miss Celia!"