“I think I shall leave you, Miss Lois,” she said.

“What, are you not going with me to the store?”

“No, I guess not.  I will see you later.  I want to go to my room now to think something over.”

She was trembling as she said this, and Lois wondered what was the matter with her.  Then an idea flashed into her mind.  Was she afraid to go past the artist’s tent? she asked herself.  There could surely be nothing else which would cause her to leave her and go to the loneliness of her own room.  She said nothing to Betty, however, of her thoughts, but bade her good-bye and hurried on her way.

Coming at length to the spot where Bramshaw had been living, she glanced to the left as if expecting to see him.  But no sign of him did she see, and great was her surprise to find that his tent was gone.  She rubbed her eyes, thinking that she had not seen aright.  But, no, there was no mistake.  Bramshaw had gone, and had taken all his belongings with him.  This was strange, and as she walked along she began to muse as to where he had gone and the purpose of his hasty departure.  Had it anything to do with the murder of old David? she wondered.

Lois was thinking of these things as she reached the store, where she met Andy Forbes.

“Do you know what has become of the artist?” she enquired.

“Isn’t he up the road?” Andy asked in reply.

“His tent has been removed, and so I suppose he has gone with it.”

“Gone!” he exclaimed in surprise.  “Why, when did he go?”

“I haven’t the least idea.”

“Well, I guess there must be something in it after all,” Andy mused as if to himself.

“In what?” Lois questioned, wondering what the man meant.

“I’ll tell you in a minute, Miss Sinclair, but you’d better read this first,” and the storekeeper handed her a piece of paper.  “It’s the telephone message,” he explained.

Lois took the paper in her hand, and read.  It was from Mr. Westcote, containing a request that she should go to the city the next day if she possibly could, as he wished to see her on important business.

“Why didn’t you send this with the boy?” Lois enquired, somewhat annoyed.  “It would have saved my coming here.”

But Andy did not notice her annoyance, for something seemed to be troubling him.

“Would you mind coming into the house?” he asked.  “My wife will look after the store for a few minutes.  There is an important matter I wish to speak to you about.”

Opening the door to the right, he ushered her at once into a small sitting-room.  It was a cosy place, and here she found Mrs. Forbes, a bright-eyed little woman, seated at the window facing the road, doing some sewing.  Lois knew her very well as one of the quiet thoughtful women, of Creekdale, and who was of such great assistance to her husband.

“It is too bad to disturb you,” Lois apologised, when Andy had asked her to look after the store for a short time.