gs
of love. We've been married twenty years. Forgive me, McMann!'

"McMann turned around. He picked up the bag. I asked where he was going.
'Ashore,' he said, 'to think. I may go back to Kansas City--I may. But
I'll just think a bit first.' And he climbed into the ship's boat. I
never saw him again."

The hermit paused, and gazed dreamily into space.

"That," he said, "was my one great lie, my masterpiece. A year afterward
I came up here on the mountain to be a hermit."

"As a result of it?" asked Miss Norton.

"Yes," answered Mr. Peters, "I told the story to a friend. I thought he
was a friend--so he was, but married. My wife got to hear of it. 'So you
denied my existence,' she said. 'As a joke,' I told her. 'The joke's on
you,' she says. That was the end. She went her way, and I went mine. I'd
just unanimously gone her way so long, I was a little dazed at first
with my freedom. After fighting for a living alone for a time, I came up
here. It's cheap. I get the solitude I need for my book. Not long ago I
heard I could go back to her if I apologized."

"Stick to your guns," advised Mr. Max.

"I'm trying to," Mr. Peters replied. "But it's lonesome here--in winter.
And at Christmas in particular. This dressing-gown was a Christmas
present from Ellen. She picked it. Pretty, ain't it? You see why I can't
come down and cook for you. I might get the fever for society, and
shave, and go to Brooklyn, where she's living with her sister."

"But," said Mr. Magee, "we're in an awful fix. You've put us there. Mr.
Peters, as a man of honor, I appeal to you. Your sense of fairness must
tell you my appeal is just. Risk it one more day, and I'll have a cook
sent up from the village. Just one day. There's no danger in that.
Surely you can resist temptation one little day. A man of your
character."

Miss Norton rose and stood before Mr. Peters. She fixed him with her
eyes--eyes into which no man could gaze and go his way unmoved.

"Just one tiny day," she pleaded.

Mr. Peters sighed. He rose.

"I'm a fool," he said. "I can't help it. I'll take chances on another
day. Though nobody knows where it'll lead."

"Brooklyn, maybe," whispered Lou Max to Magee in mock horror.

The hermit donned his coat, attended to a few household duties, and led
the delegation outside. Dolefully he locked the door of his shack. The
four started down the mountain.

"Back to Baldpate with our cook," said Mr. Magee into the girl's ear. "I
know no