eat and
home-like. There were books everywhere, and an atmosphere about as
much of the place as I could see to make me decide that it was a man's
house--I mean that the young minister wasn't as yet sharing it with a
woman. You can tell pretty well. A woman's touch about a house
interior is as easily distinguishable as the stars on a clear night.

From my place at the bedside I could look through an open door into the
sitting-room. There were easy-chairs and a writing-table and a general
air of man-comfort. Among the pictures on the walls was one of a
stately group of college buildings; another was a class picture taken
with a church, or perhaps it was the college chapel, for a background.

When the hour was about up, the man on the bed began to stir and show
signs that he was coming out of the unconscious fit. Pretty soon he
opened his eyes and asked, in a liquor-thickened voice, where he was.
I told him he had had an accident and was in the hands of his friends;
and at that he dropped off to sleep, and was still sleeping when a farm
wagon stopped at the cottage gate and the Good Samaritan came in. His
search had been successful. Our broken-winged bird was a young farmer
living a few miles out of town. The young minister had found his team,
and a friend to drive it, and both friend and team were at the gate
ready to take the battered one home.

With the help of the volunteer driver we got the young farmer up and
out and into the wagon; and there the Samaritan outreaching ended--or I
supposed it was ended. But as a matter of fact, it was merely
transferring itself to me. As I was moving off to resume my
interrupted dash for the railroad station, Whitley--I read his name on
the notice board of the near-by church--stopped me.

"What's your hurry?" he asked; adding: "I haven't had time to get
acquainted with you yet."

I answered briefly that I was leaving town, and this brought the
questioner's watch out of his pocket.

"There is no train in either direction before nine o'clock this
evening," he demurred. And then: "It is nearly six now: if you haven't
anything better to do, why not stay and take dinner with me? I'm a
lone bachelor-man, and I'd be mighty glad of your company."

The wagon had driven off and the street was empty. I looked my
potential host squarely in the eyes and said the first thing that came
uppermost.

"I have just been discharged from Mr. Haddon's store--for what Mr.
Haddon consi