ays there.
But apart from paying the bills, which, were always light, he left
everything else to his daughter.

The night when the men of Creekdale were talking so earnestly at the
store, Mr. Sinclair was late reaching, home. Dinner had been waiting
for over an hour, and Lois was reading on the verandah, for it was a
beautiful evening, with not a ripple on the surface of the river. She
longed to be out there in her little boat where of late she spent so
much of her time.

To almost any one else this home-coming would have been a great
pleasure, especially if the day in the city had been trying. He would
have found the cool, quiet house with such a daughter waiting to
receive him most comforting. But with Mr. Sinclair it was altogether
different. He did not seem to notice the neatly-set dining-room table,
with its snow-white linen and the fragrant flowers so artistically
arranged in the centre. Neither did he pay any special attention to
Lois, who, clad in a simple white dress, sat at the head of the table.

Lois intuitively realised that there was something out of the ordinary
worrying her father. He was more silent than ever, and took no part in
the conversation between his son and daughter. Dick related to Lois
his experience that afternoon with a party of his friends who had
motored over to the Sea Breeze Park, and had luncheon at the Sign of
the Maple.

"It's a dandy place," Dick exclaimed, as he passed his plate for
another helping of roast lamb. "They certainly do serve things up in
style, and it is no wonder that so many city people go there. But you
could never guess who came in while we were eating."

"Any one I know?" Lois asked.

"Sure; a special friend of yours," and Dick gave a knowing grin. "He's
been under your care for years. I guess you know Spuds all right."

Lois' face flushed at these words, but she looked calmly at her brother.

"What is there remarkable about seeing Mr. Randall at such a place?"
she enquired. "Why shouldn't he go there as well as you or any one
else?"

"Oh, nothing in that, only I thought maybe you'd be interested."

"So I am in a way, as I thought that Mr. Randall was up at the falls.
He seldom goes to the city, so I understand, but attends strictly to
business."

"I guess he was doing that all right at the Sign of the Maple. He
seemed to be so busy that he forgot to eat."

"Was he alone?"

"Oh, no. There was the prettiest girl I ever set eyes on.