must, I suppose.
Seems to me you're leavin' at the most interestin' time. We've
been talkin' about this and that, same as you say, and now you're
leavin' just as 'this' has got here. Maybe if you wait--wait--a--"

The sentence died away into nothingness. He had taken up the brush
which he used for the blue paint. There was a loose bristle in it.
He pulled this out and one or two more came with it.

"Hu-um!" he mused, absently.

Captain Sam was tired of waiting.

"Come, finish her out, Jed--finish her out," he urged. "What's the
rest of it?"

"I cal'late I'll run along now," said Mr. Bearse, nervously moving
toward the door.

"Hold on a minute," commanded the captain. "Jed hadn't finished
what he was sayin' to you. He generally talks like one of those
continued-in-our-next yarns in the magazines. Give us the
September installment, Jed--come."

Mr. Winslow smiled, a slow, whimsical smile that lit up his lean,
brown face and then passed away as slowly as it had come, lingering
for an instant at one corner of his mouth.

"Oh, I was just tellin' Gabe that the 'this' he was talkin' about
was here now," he said, "and that maybe if he waited a space the
'that' would come, too. Seems to me if I was you, Gabe, I'd--"

But Mr. Bearse had gone.

Captain Hunniwell snorted. "Humph!" he said; "I judge likely I'm
the 'this' you and that gas bag have been talkin' about. Who's the
'that'?"

His companion was gazing absently at the door through which Gabriel
had made his hurried departure. After gazing at it in silence for
a moment, he rose from the chair, unfolding section by section like
a pocket rule, and, crossing the room, opened the door and took
from its other side the lettered sign "Private" which had hung
there. Then, with tacks and a hammer, he proceeded to affix the
placard to the inner side of the door, that facing the room where
he and Captain Sam were. The captain regarded this operation with
huge astonishment.

"Gracious king!" he exclaimed. "What in thunder are you doin' that
for? This is the private room in here, ain't it?"

Mr. Winslow, returning to his chair, nodded.

"Ya-as," he admitted, "that's why I'm puttin' the 'Private' sign on
this side of the door."

"Yes, but-- Why, confound it, anybody who sees it there will think
it is the other room that's private, won't they?"

Jed nodded. "I'm in hopes they will," he said.

"You're in hopes they will! Why?"

"'Cause if Gabe Bea