couldn't
very well. He's a character, and I have puzzled my brains to discover
what he's doing it for."

Miss Bentley was interested and requested further enlightenment.

"Well, I have two theories in regard to him. He is an educated man, and
a gentleman, so far as I can tell, and I think he is either studying
some social problem, or he is a detective on some trail."

"I never thought----" began Margaret Elizabeth. "I mean," hastily
correcting herself, "I should never have thought of such an
explanation."

"He's up to something, you may be sure," Mr. Brown continued. "I like to
talk to him, and do, every chance I get."

Margaret Elizabeth certainly showed a flattering interest in all the
Reporter had to say. "Some day when you have become a great editor," she
assured him at parting, "I shall refer proudly to the afternoon when we
sat together in a cave and ate ice cream."

"Oh, now, Miss Bentley," the Reporter protested in some embarrassment,
"I'm sure I shall always think of it with pride, whatever I get to be,
though that probably won't be much."

This conversation was not without its influence upon Miss Bentley's
subsequent attitude toward the Candy Man. That some one else had found
him a unique and interesting personality was reassuring, and the
thought that he might be engaged on some secret mission was novel and
suggestive. She began to reconsider and readjust, and in future,
although she still avoided the Y.M.C.A. corner, she allowed her thoughts
to turn once in a while in that direction.

Meanwhile she paid two more visits to the Miser's library, on these
occasions laying deliberate siege to his reserve with all the charm of
her bright friendliness. She asked questions about his beloved prints;
intelligent questions, for Margaret Elizabeth had grown up in an
atmosphere of appreciation for things rare and fine. She chatted about
her father and his work, and even ventured some wise advice about fresh
air and its tonic effect. Indeed, it is a cause for wonder that she was
able at the same time to collect the material which took shape later in
that most erudite paper.

Under this invasion of youth and gaiety, the sombre, student atmosphere
became charged with a new, electric current. It was not owing solely to
Miss Bentley, however, for Sunday evening now frequently found the Candy
Man dropping in sociably to chat with Mr. Knight in his library.

In these days the Miser often sat leaning his head on his