rious."

The Inspector nodded his head gravely.

"Yes," he said. "But, Mr. Cochrane," he added in a low voice, "it is
very necessary that as little as possible should be said about these
things just now. No occasion for any excitement or fuss. The quieter
things are kept the better."

"All right, Inspector, I understand, but--"

"What do you think of your new house, Mr. Cameron?" cried Mrs. Cochrane.
"Come in. Now what do you think of this for three days' work?"

"Oh, Allan, I have been all through it and it's perfectly wonderful,"
said his wife.

"Oh nothing very wonderful, Mrs. Cameron," said Cochrane, "but it will
do for a while."

"Perfectly wonderful in its whole plan, and beautifully complete,"
insisted Mandy. "See, a living-room, a lovely large one, two bedrooms
off it, and, look here, cupboards and closets, and a pantry, and--" here
she opened the door in the corner--"a perfectly lovely up-stairs! Not to
speak of the cook-house out at the back."

"Wonderful is the word," said Cameron, "for why in all the world should
these people--?"

"And look, Allan, at Moira! She's just lost in rapture over that
fireplace."

"And I don't wonder," said her husband. "It is really fine. Whose idea
was it?" he continued, moving toward Moira's side, who was standing
before a large fireplace of beautiful masonry set in between the two
doors that led to the bedrooms at the far end of the living-room.

"It was Andy Hepburn from Loon Lake that built it," said Mr. Cochrane.

"I wish I could thank him," said Moira fervently.

"Well, there he is outside the window, Miss Moira," said a young fellow
who was supposed to be busy putting up a molding round the wainscoting,
but who was in reality devoting himself to the young lady at the present
moment with open admiration. "Here, Andy," he cried through the window,
"you're wanted. Hurry up."

"Oh, don't, Mr. Dent. What will he think?"

A hairy little man, with a face dour and unmistakably Scotch, came in.

"What's want-it, then?" he asked, with a deliberate sort of gruffness.

"It's yourself, Andy, me boy," said young Dent, who, though Canadian
born, needed no announcement of his Irish ancestry. "It is yourself,
Andy, and this young lady, Miss Moira Cameron--Mr. Hepburn--" Andy made
reluctant acknowledgment of her smile and bow--"wants to thank you for
this fireplace."

"It is very beautiful indeed, Mr. Hepburn, and very thankful I am to you
for building it."

"Aw, it