e. It was very good of you to come, Mr.--?"
she paused invitingly.

"Coogan," supplied the Flopper. "Michael Coogan."

"Let me offer you a chair, Mr. Coogan," said Thornton, a little
ironically, pushing one toward the Flopper. "Or would you be more
comfortable on the floor?"

The Flopper's eyelids fell--covering a quick, ugly glint.

"T'anks!" he said--and swung himself, by his arms, into the chair.

"I want you to tell me all about this strange man in Needley, and how
you came to hear of him and believe in him," said Mrs. Thornton. "I was
only able to get just the barest outline of it out there on the
platform with the crowd around."

"Dat's easy," said the Flopper earnestly. "Sure, I'll tell you. I saw a
piece about dis Patriarch in one of de Noo Yoik papers, so I writes to
de postmaster of de town to find out if he was on de level--see?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Thornton. "And what did the postmaster say?"

The Flopper took Hiram Higgins' letter from his pocket and handed it to
Mrs. Thornton.

"Youse can read it fer yerself, mum," he said, with an air of one
delivering a final and irrefutable argument.

Mrs. Thornton read the letter carefully, almost anxiously.

"If only a part of this is true," she said wistfully, passing it to her
husband, "it is perfectly wonderful."

Mr. Thornton read it--with a grin.

"I don't know, I am sure," he observed caustically, handing the letter
to Miss Harvey, "how the medical profession would stand on this--would
your school endorse it, nurse?"

Miss Harvey read it with her back to the others--then she glanced at
Mrs. Thornton--and checked herself as she was about to speak. She folded
the letter slowly and returned it to the Flopper without comment.

Robert Thornton, master of millions, hard-headed and practical for all
his youth, leaned forward in his chair toward the Flopper.

"Look here," he said bluntly, "you don't mean to say that you believe
this seriously, do you?"

"Oh, no!" said the Flopper softly. "Nothin' like dat! Of course I don't
believe it! I'm only guyin' myself--see? I'm just goin' dere fer
fun--an' spendin' me last red to get dere. Say"--his voice snapped--"wot
do youse t'ink I am, anyway?"

"Surely, Robert," said Mrs. Thornton gently, "it is evident enough that
he believes it."

Thornton did not look at her--he was still gazing at the Flopper, his
brows knitted.

"How long have you been like this?" he demanded sharply.

"All me life," said the Fl