ter fact would have been astounding
enough. But the marvel did not cease there. The light suffusing the
small room came from no flickering candles but glowed steadily from two
strong, unblinking electric lights, one of which had been connected
with a low lamp on his desk, and the other with a fixture in the
ceiling.

Ted could scarcely believe his eyes. All day, during his absence,
electricians must have been busy. How carefully they had guarded their
secret. Why, he had talked with Tim Toyer that very morning on his way
to work and Tim had breathed no word, although he was the head
electrician and had charge of the dynamo which generated the current
both for Aldercliffe and Pine Lea. The Fernalds had never depended on
Freeman's Falls for their electricity; on the contrary, they maintained
a small plant of their own and used the power for a score of purposes
on the two estates.

Evidently either Mr. Wharton or Mr. Clarence Fernald himself must have
given the order which had with such Aladdin-like magic been so promptly
and mysteriously fulfilled. It certainly was kind of them to do this
and Ted determined they should not find him wanting in gratitude.
Pocketing his shyness, he opened the door and stepped into the room.
"Well, youngster, I thought it was about time the host made his
appearance," exclaimed Mr. Wharton. "We could not have waited much
longer. Mr. Fernald, this is Ted Turner, the lad I have been telling
you about."

Ted waited.

The mill-owner nodded, let his eye travel over the boy's flushed face,
and then, as if satisfied by what he saw there, he put out his hand.

"I have been hearing very excellent reports of you, Turner," said he,
"and I wished to investigate for myself the quarters they have given
you to live in. You've made a mighty shipshape little den of this
place."

"It didn't need very much done to it," protested Ted, blushing under
the fixed gaze of the great man. "I just cleaned it up and arranged the
furniture. Mr. Wharton was kind enough to give me most of it."

"I can't claim any thanks," laughed the manager. "The traps I gave you
were all cast-offs and not in use. It is what you have done with them
that is the marvel."

"You certainly have turned your donations to good purpose," Mr. Fernald
observed. "I've been noticing your books in your absence and see that
most of them are textbooks on electricity. I judge you are interested
in that sort of thing."

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Hum