u idiot,' laughs Sam. He told me
he was thinking how he'd treat his old friend Mark to a dinner that
would go down in history in Readsboro. 'Mark, you old rascal,' he says,
'don't you remember me--don't you remember little Sam Burns that used to
play andy-over with you, and that stole your girl in 1892? Don't you
remember the old days in Readsboro?' He was all het up by this time, Sam
tells me, and all the old memories came creeping back, and he kept
thinking he never was so glad to run across anybody in his life. 'You
remember little Sam Burns, don't you?' he asks once more.

"But this guy just looks back into Sam's eye with his own cold as steel,
and he says, says he: 'You're pretty clever, mister, but you don't fool
me. No, you don't come any games on Mark Dennen.'

"'But, Mark,' says Sam, 'I swear to you by all that's holy that I'm that
kid--I'm Sam Burns. What proof do you want? Do you remember old Ed
Haywood that used to keep the drug store right across from the
post-office? The guy that never washed his windows? I do. And Miss
Hunter that taught the sixth grade school when we went there--a little
woman with washed-out gray eyes and a broken front tooth? And that
pretty little girl, Sarah somebody--wait a minute, I'll get it or
bust--Sarah--Sarah--Sarah Scott, you used to be so sweet on? Did you
marry her, Mark? And old Lafe Perkins, who used to be on hand whenever
there was any repairs being made anywhere--rheumatism and a cane and a
high squeaky voice that he used to exercise giving orders about things
that wasn't any of his business. Why, Mark, I remember 'em all. Good
lord, man,' says Sam, 'do you want any more proof?'

"But this country blockhead just looked Sam up and down, and remarks
judicious: 'It's certainly wonderful how you know all these things.
Wonderful. But you can't fool me,' he says, 'you can't fool Mark
Dennen.'"

Mr. Max paused in his narrative for a moment. The sound of voices came
up from the office of Baldpate Inn. One, that of the mayor, boomed
loudly and angrily. In an evident desire to drown it, Mr. Max went on
with spirit:

"Well, gentlemen, it got to be a point of honor, as you might say, for
Sam to convince that guy. He told me he never wanted anything so much in
his life as for Mark Dennen to give in. It was a hot afternoon, and he'd
come aboard that boat for a rest, but he peeled off his collar and
started in. He gave Mark Dennen the number of bricks in the Methodist
Church, as