It can't be to hunt up bad people, because there are no bad
people in Heaven. What do you think about it?"
"I know," answered Marjorie, gravely; "play chess with dead uncles and
ministers, and teach tricks to the little children that never growed
up."
"Out of the mouths of babes!" ejaculated Mr. Errol, who overheard the
conversation; then continued: "Could anything be truer? The training in
observation and rapid mental combinations, which has made you successful
in your profession, is the foundation of your prowess on the chess
board. Your skill in every sort of make-up enables you to manipulate
handkerchiefs and oranges for children's amusement. The same training
and skill our Father can turn to good account in the upper sanctuary."
"Thank you, Mr. Errol, thank you, Marjorie, my dear. Perhaps the good
God will be kinder than we think, and find some use for a poor, lonely,
careless detective." Mr. Nash was unusually thoughtful, yet still had an
eye to business. He made diligent enquiries about Rawdon, and, at last,
getting on the scent through Miss Du Plessis, found out all that
Coristine and Timotheus had to tell of him.
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