so meek that Father took pity on him.

"We'll call it square," he said. "I guess maybe you and Lulu will quit
worrying, now, at last."

"Yes, I guess we'll have to.... Say, Father, this seems to be a fine,
live, prosperous town. Say, I wonder what's the chances for opening a
drug-store here? Competition is getting pretty severe in Saserkopee."

For the first time since he had married the lovely Lulu Harris Hartwig
seemed to care for his father-in-law's opinion.

Father took one horrified glance at Mother. The prospect of the
Hartwigs planted here in Eden, like a whole family of the most highly
irritating serpents, seemed to have paralyzed her. It was Father who
turned Harris's flank. Said he:

"Well, I'm afraid I can't encourage you. There's three good stores here,
and the proprietors of all of them are friends of mine, and I'm afraid I
couldn't do a thing about introducing you. In fact, I'd feel like a
traitor to them if I was responsible for any competition with them. So--
But some time, perhaps, we can have Lulu and Harry here for a visit."

"Thank you, Father. Well--"

"Well, I guess we all better be saying good night."

Father ostentatiously wound up the clock and locked the doors. Harris
watched him, his Adam's apple prettily rising and falling as he prepared
to speak and hesitated, again and again. Finally, as Father yawned and
extended his hand, Harris burst out: "Say, how--the--deuce--did you get
this house and all? What's the idea, anyway?"

For this Father had been waiting. He had nineteen large batteries
concealed in ambush. And he fired them. He fixed Harris with a glance
that was the condensed essence of all the fathers-in-law in the world.
"Young man," he snorted, "I don't discuss my business affairs. But I
don't mind saying that I am partner in one of the most flourishing
mercantile concerns in the State. I knew that Lulu and you would never
believe that the poor old folks could actually run their own business
unless you came and saw for yourself. I stand ready to refund the
railroad fare you spent in coming here. Now are you satisfied?"

"Why--why, yes--"

"Well, then, I guess we'll say good night."

"Good night," said Harris, forlornly.

* * * * *

It was a proof of their complete recovery from Harris-Hartwigism that,
while they were undressing, the Applebys discussed Mr. Hartwig only for
a moment, and that Father volunteered: "I actually do hope that Lul