y club, and organized a cross-country hike in
which he outdistanced all the others, including the young and boastful
Buck Simpson.

He was slowly recognized as being "in society." To tell the truth, most
of Lipsittsville was in society, but a few citizens weren't--Barney
Bachschluss, the saloon-keeper; Tony, who sawed wood and mowed lawns;
the workmen on the brick-yard and on the railway. Father was serenely
established upon a social plane infinitely loftier than theirs.

He wore a giddy, spotted, bat-wing tie, and his grand good gray trousers
were rigidly creased. He read editorials in the Indianapolis paper and
discussed them with Doc Schergan at the drug-store.

The only trouble was that Mother had nothing to do. She was
discontented, in their two rooms at the Star Hotel. No longer could she,
as in her long years of flat life in New York, be content to sit
dreaming and reading the paper. She was as brisk and strong and
effective as Father. Open woods and the windy road had given her a
restless joy in energy. She made a gown of gray silk and joined the
Chautauqua Circle, but that was not enough.

On an evening of late August, when a breeze was in the maples, when the
sunset was turquoise and citron green and the streets were serenely
happy, Father took her out for a walk. They passed the banker's mansion,
with its big curving screened porch, and its tower, and brought up at a
row of modern bungalows which had just been completed.

"I wanted you to see these," said Father, "because some time--this is a
secret I been keeping--some time I guess we'll be able to rent one of
these! Don't see why we can't early next year, the way things are
going!"

"Oh, Father!" she said, almost tearfully.

"Would you like it?"

"Like it! With a real house and something to keep my hands busy! And
maybe a kitty! And I would make you tea (I'm so tired of hotel food!)
and we would sit out here on the porch--"

"Yes, you'd have old Mr. Seth Appleby for tea-room customer. He's better
'n anybody they got on Cape Cod!"

"Yes, and you _are_ better, too, Father!"

"You old honeymooner! Say, I've got an idea. I wonder if we couldn't
sneak in a look inside of one of these bungalows. Let's try this door."

He shook the door-knob of a bungalow so new that laths and mortar were
still scattered about the yard. The door was locked. He tried the
windows as well. But he could not get in. Three other bungalows they
tried, and the fourth, the l