el shook Uncle Eben's hands--both of them--in a kindly but
dignified manner. "I suppose the automobile is still running, Uncle?"

"Not jes' dis yere minnit, Kun'l," with a glad chuckle, "but dat car's
gwine ter run jes' as soon as we-all gits aboahd. What yo' think I's
be'n doin' all winter, Kun'l, in dat lonesomeness house, 'cept keepin'
dat car greased up?"

"Did you grease it in the house, then, Uncle?" asked Mary Louise
gravely, but with twinkling eyes.

Old Eben chuckled again, for this was a happy hour for him, but while
he chuckled he led them to where the automobile stood waiting. Behind
the others slowly followed Jason Jones, carrying his own luggage and
eyeing every detail of his surroundings in the manner of a countryman
paying his first visit to town. He was inwardly sizing up Dorfield as a
place of residence. When Jones got into the car the Colonel briefly
introduced him to the lawyer.

"This is Mr. Jones, Mr. Conant."

He looked at the lawyer and gave a slight nod, and Mr. Conant's bow was
very stiff and formal. Already he had, with fair accuracy, grasped the
relationship of the man to the others. Alora Jones seemed a fine girl--
the right sort--and Mary Louise was evidently fond of her. The Colonel
barely tolerated the man Jones, whom he did not like, for the
daughter's sake. The girl herself lacked in respect for her father, and
this unfilial attitude seemed condoned by both Mary Louise and the
Colonel, which was evidence that there was something wrong about Jason
Jones. With such a cue for guidance, Mr. Conant decided he had no use
for Jason Jones, either.

Uncle Eben first drove the car to the Widow Harrington's cottage, where
Mrs. Conant awaited the new tenants to introduce them to their servant
and to assure them that everything was prepared for their convenience.
Then they drove to Colonel Hathaway's home, where Irene was at the gate
in her wheeled chair, a bunch of her choicest roses in her hand, ready
to welcome her friend Mary Louise and to be kissed and hugged with
girlish enthusiasm.

It was a happy homecoming, indeed, for Mary Louise. And Colonel
Hathaway breathed a deep sigh of relief as he entered his own portals.

"From now on," he said to his granddaughter that evening, "I am under
no obligation to assist that impossible person, Jones, or to even
associate with him. For your sake, my darling, I have suffered the
infliction of his presence with fortitude, even going to the extent o