ad
discovered, by dint of patient inquiry, a furnished house to let, and
you know, of course, that I promptly secured the place for the summer.
That's the whole story, Mary Louise."

"It is interesting," she remarked. "As a result of your famous
discovery you sent down Uncle Eben and Aunt Polly, with our car and a
lot of truck you thought we might need, and now--when all is ready--you
and I have come to take possession."

"Rather neatly arranged, I think," declared the Colonel, with
satisfaction.

"Do you know anything about the history of the place, Gran'pa, or of
the people who live in your tiny, forgotten town?"

"Nothing whatever. I imagine there are folks Cragg's Crossing who have
never been a dozen miles away from it since they were born. The village
boasts a 'hotel'--the funniest little inn you can imagine--where we had
an excellent home-cooked meal; and there is one store and a
blacksmith's shop, one church and one schoolhouse. These, with half a
dozen ancient and curiously assorted residences, constitute the shy and
retiring town of Cragg's Crossing. Ah, think we have found Joe
Brennan."

Uncle Eben drew up beside a rickety wagon drawn by two sorry nags who
just now were engaged in cropping grass from the roadside. On the seat
half reclined a young man who was industriously eating an apple. He
wore a blue checked shirt open at the throat, overalls, suspenders and
a straw hat that had weathered many seasons of sunshine and rain. His
feet were encased in heavy boots and his bronzed face betokened an
out-of-door life. There are a million countrymen in the United States
just like Joe Brennan in outward appearance.

Joe did not stop munching; he merely stared as the automobile stopped
beside him.

"Say, you Joe!" shouted Uncle Eben indignatly, "wha' foh yo' done
sett'n' heah?"

"Rest'n'," said Joe Brennan, taking another bite from his apple.

"Ain't yo' gwine git dem trunks home to-day?" demanded the old darkey.

Joe seemed to consider this question carefully before he ventured to
commit himself. Then he looked at Colonel Hathaway and said:

"What I want t' know, Boss, is whether I'm hired by the hour, er by the
day?"

"Didn't Uncle Eben tell you?"

"Naw, he didn't. He jes' said t' go git the trunks an' he'd gimme a
dollar fer the trip."

"Well, that seems to settle the question, doesn't it!"

"Not quite, Boss. I be'n thinkin' it over, on the way, an' a dollar's
too pesky cheap fer this trip. So