that keeps kind o' pullin'
on me." Uncle William rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. "You
ever seen me?" he demanded.

The man's eyes laughed. "Hundreds of times."

"You hev?" Uncle William sat up. "Where?"

"Right here."

"In this house?"

"Well, around here," said the man, "on these rocks and near by. I lived
here once. I dote on these rocks--every one." He waved a hand at the
landscape.

Uncle William fixed him with stern eye. "You hain't ever lived here,"
he said slowly. "You don't mean to lie." His gaze grew kindlier. "You're
jest romancin'." He brought it out with unction.

The Frenchman stared. Then he laughed out. "Well done! I can't fight you
for that." He leaned forward. "Who lived this side of Gunnion's when you
were a boy?" he asked.

Uncle William paused. He looked again at the face with its lifted
eyebrows and pointed beard. He shook his head. A light grew in his face
slowly--he started forward. "Not Bodet?" he said eagerly. "Not little
Benjy Bodet?" He stared again.

The man laughed musically. "Right." He stood up, holding out his hand.
"I thought you would know me."

Uncle William took it slowly. He studied the thin, keen face. "Benjy
Bodet," he said. "I'd know you--much as you've changed--I'd know you!
Set right down and tell me all about it."

"All?" said the man. He laughed again, looking contentedly about the
room. "It will take some time."

"You'll have to stay quite a while," said Uncle William.

The man nodded. "I mean to. I've wanted to come back ever since the day
we sailed for France."

"You was twelve year old that summer," said Uncle William. "Your folks
come into property, didn't they, over there?"

"Yes--on my mother's side. We took her name. I was sick for months after
we got there--homesick, cooped up in rooms."

"You poor little chap!" Uncle William surveyed him. Affection was in
his eyes, and memory. "You was al'ays a kind o' peaked little thing," he
said reflectively. "You hain't changed much--when you come to look. Take
off your whiskers and slick up your hair and fetch down your eyebrows a
little--jest about the same."

The man laughed out. He swung his eyeglasses boyishly from their chain.
"Well, you're not."

"Me?" Uncle William looked down at his bulk. "More of me--bigger a
little, sort o', mebbe."

The man nodded. "But just the same underneath."

"Jest the same," said Uncle William.

The man drew a deep breath. "I've traveled all over the world