more of the world than Tom's ever would
see in the longest life he could live, though Perkins himself could
hardly be over forty, perhaps not quite that.

"Not yet, son," said he. "By and by--yes. But keep up the quality
now--and then."

That evening a young man, whom Tom recognized as one of the party of the
night before, the one who had waved to him as he had driven away,
appeared again. He came in a runabout this time and brought two women,
who proved to be his mother and sister. The young man himself--Mr.
Haskins--smiled genially at Tom, and said by way of explanation:

"I liked your place so well I brought them up to see if my fairy tales
were true."

Upon which Tom naturally did his best to make the fairy tales seem true,
and thought, by the signs he noted, that he had succeeded.

During the following week three or four others of the men of the
original fourteen came up to Boswell's or sent small parties. Evidently
the flattering paragraphs in the two dailies had also made some
impression on people eager to get away from the intense heat of a season
more than ordinarily trying. They found the air stirring upon the
porches and through the rooms at the Inn; and they found--which was, of
course, the greater attraction--a table so inviting with appetizing
food, and an unpretentious service so satisfactory, that mouth-to-mouth
advertising of the little new resort, that most-to-be-desired means of
becoming known, began, gradually but surely, to tell.

Strange to say, several more paragraphs now appeared: brief, crisp
mention of the simple but perfect cooking to be had for the short drive
of sixteen miles over the best of roads. These inevitably had their
effect, and at the end of the third week Tom declared to Perkins that
he was more than making expenses.

"Much more?" inquired that gentleman, his eyes as usual upon the view.

"Enough so we're satisfied and won't have to close up. Why, there's been
from one to three big autos here every day this week."

One of Perkins's short laughs answered this--Tom never could tell just
what that throaty chuckle indicated. Presently he found out.

"What you want, Boswell," said Perkins, removing his cigar--an unusual
sign of interest with him--"is a boom. I'd like to see you get it.
Gradual building up's all right, but quick methods pay better."

"A boom! How on earth are we to get a boom?" Tom felt a bit
disconcerted.

He had noticed for several days an increasing re