customer.

MARTHA.

Yes.

_Imitates him._

"Queer customer," that's you. But come to doin' anything about it!

BEELER.

Give me time, Sis, give me time!

MARTHA.

How much time do you want? He's been in this house since Wednesday
night, and this is Saturday morning.

BEELER.

Well, he's payin' his board, ain't he?

_At window, rolls up curtain._

Goin' to have just such another day as yesterday. Never seen such a
fog.

MARTHA.

Never seen such a fog, eh?

_Comes nearer and speaks mysteriously._

Did you happen to notice how long that fog has been hangin' over this
house?

BEELER.

How long? Why, since Thursday.

MARTHA.

No, sir, since Wednesday night.

BEELER.

_Looking at her, astonished._

Martha Beeler! You don't mean to say--he _brought_ the fog?

_She flounces out without answering. He lights lantern, with
dubious head-shaking, and holds it up before the print portraits._

Mornin', Mr. Darwin. Same to you, Mr. Spencer. Still keepin' things
straight?

_Grunts as he turns down his lantern, which is smoking._

I guess not very.

_The hall door again opens, and Rhoda Williams, a girl of twenty,
enters, with Annie Beeler, a child of ten. Rhoda is running, with
Annie in laughing pursuit._

RHODA.

_Taking refuge behind the table._

King's X!

ANNIE.

_Catching her._

You didn't have your fingers crossed.

RHODA.

_Turning Annie about, and beginning to button the child's long
slip._

And you didn't have your dress buttoned.

ANNIE.

That doesn't count.

RHODA.

Yes, it does, before breakfast!

BEELER.

_At the outer door._

How does your aunt strike you this morning?

RHODA.

_Sobered._

She seems wonderfully better.

BEELER.

Better!

RHODA.

I don't mean her poor body. She's got past caring for that.

BEELER.

_With sarcasm._

You mean in her mind, eh?

RHODA.

Yes, I mean better in her mind.

BEELER.

Because of what this fellow has been sayin' to her, I suppose.

RHODA.

Yes, because of that.

BEELER.

_As he puts on an old fur cap._

An out-and-out fakir!

RHODA.

You don't know him.

BEELER.

I suppose you do, after forty-eight hours. What in the name of nonsense
is he, anyway? And this deaf and dumb Indian boy he drags around with
him. What's his part in the show?

RHODA.

I know very little about either of them. But I know Mr. Michae