e confirmed the truth of the rumour he had reported.

"Well, we had the crowd here last night," was Tom's greeting, as
Perkins's sharp black eyes looked up at him from the bottom step.

"So I see." Perkins held up a morning paper. The inevitable cigar was in
his mouth. His face indicated no particular interest. He went along into
the house as Tom grasped the paper. So he saw! What did Perkins mean by
that? It couldn't be that any of that party of men had, unsolicited,
taken the trouble to----

But they had, or one of them had. In a fairly conspicuous position on
one of the local pages of the best city daily was an item of at least a
dozen lines setting forth the fact that a party of prominent men,
including several newspaper men, had taken supper the night before at
Boswell's Inn, Mount o' Pines, and had found that place decidedly
attractive. The paragraph stated that such a supper was seldom found at
summer hotels, added that the air and the view were worth a long trip to
obtain when the city was sweltering with heat, and ended by speaking of
the prime condition of the roads leading to the Inn. Altogether, it was
such an item as Tom had often longed to see, and the reading of it went
to his head. When, ten minutes later, Tim, coming up from the
post-office with the mail and another of the morning papers, excitedly
called Tom's attention to a second paragraph headed, "Have You Had a
Supper at Boswell's Inn?" Tom became positively delirious.

"It pays to set it up to a bunch like that," was Perkins's comment when
Tom showed him this second free advertisement.

"But I didn't treat them. They paid their bills," cried the young host.

"Charge your usual price?"

"Sure. We didn't have anything extra--except the cheese. Tim drove ten
miles for that."

"Usual price was all the treat those fellows needed."

"Do you mean you don't think I charge enough?" Tom's eyes opened wide.
He had felt as if he were robbing those men when he counted up the sum
total.

"Ever dine at the Arcadia?--or the Princess?"

"No."

"They do."

Tom did not know the prices at these imposing popular hotels in the
nearby city, but he supposed they were high. He felt as if he were the
greenest innkeeper who ever invited the patronage of city guests.

"Would you advise me to put up the price?" Tom asked presently, with
some hesitation.

Perkins glanced at him out of those worn, brilliant, black eyes of his,
which looked as if they had seen