ll wait on the
customer."

When she went out into the front of the store, she saw that the figure
which had entered was in a glistening slicker. It had begun to rain.

"Why, Frank Bowman! Is it you?" she asked, in surprise.

"Oh! how-do, Janice! I didn't expect to find you here."

"Nor I you. What are you doing away up here on the hill?" Janice asked.

Frank Bowman did not look himself. The girl could not make out what
the trouble with him was, and she was puzzled.

"I guess you forgot I told you I was moving," he said hesitatingly.

"Oh, I remember! And you've moved up into this neighborhood?"

"Not exactly. I am going to lodge with the Threads, but I shall
continue to eat Marm Parraday's cooking."

"The Threads?" murmured Janice.

"You know. The little, crooked-backed man. He's janitor of the
school. His wife has two rooms I can have. Her brother has been
staying with them; but he's lost his job and has gone up into the
woods. It's a quiet place--and that's what I want. I can't stand the
racket at the hotel any longer," concluded the civil engineer.

But Janice thought he still looked strange and spoke differently from
usual. His glance wandered about the store as he talked.

"What did you want to buy, Frank?" she asked. "I'm keeping store
to-night." She knew that 'Rill would not want the young man to see her
tears.

"Oh--ah--yes," Bowman stammered. "What did I want?"

At that Janice laughed outright. She thought highly of the young civil
engineer, and she considered herself a close enough friend to ask,
bluntly:

"What ever is the matter with you, Frank Bowman? You're acting
ridiculously."

He came nearer to her and whispered: "Where's Mrs. Drugg?"

Janice motioned behind her, and her face paled. What had happened?

"I--I declare I don't know how to tell her," murmured the young man,
his hand actually trembling.

"Tell her what?" gasped Janice.

"Or even that I ought to tell her," added Frank Bowman, shaking his
head.

Janice seized him by the lapel of his coat and tried to shake him.
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"What is the matter, Janice?" called 'Rill's low voice from the back.

"Never mind! I can attend to _this_ customer," Janice answered gaily.
"It's Frank Bowman."

Then she turned swiftly to the civil engineer again and whispered:
"What is it about? Hopewell?"

"Yes," he returned in the same low tone.

"What is the matt