, and the
figure of the Honourable Hilary Vane, seated on the old millstone, in the
green and gold shadows of a beech, gave an interesting touch of life to
the landscape. The Honourable Adam drew up and eyed his friend and
associate of many years before addressing him.

"How are you, Hilary?"

"Hitch your horse," said Mr. Vane.

The Honourable Adam was some time in picking out a convenient tree. Then
he lighted a cigar, and approached Mr. Vane, and at length let himself
down, cautiously, on the millstone. Sitting on his porch had not improved
Mr. Hunt's figure.

"This is kind of mysterious, ain't it, Hilary?" he remarked, with a tug
at his goatee.

"I don't know but what it is," admitted Mr. Vane, who did not look as
though the coming episode were to give him unqualified joy.

"Fine weather," remarked the Honourable Adam, with a brave attempt at
geniality.

"The paper predicts rain to-morrow," said the Honourable Hilary.

"You don't smoke, do you?" asked the Honourable Adam.

"No," said the Honourable Hilary.

A silence, except for the music of the brook over the broken dam.

"Pretty place," said the Honourable Adam; "I kissed my wife here once
--before I was married."

This remark, although of interest, the Honourable Hilary evidently
thought did not require an answer:

"Adam," said Mr. Vane, presently, "how much money have you spent so far?"

"Well," said Mr. Hunt, "it has been sort of costly, but Brush and the
boys tell me the times are uncommon, and I guess they are. If that crazy
cuss Crewe hadn't broken loose, it would have been different. Not that
I'm uneasy about him, but all this talk of his and newspaper advertising
had to be counteracted some. Why, he has a couple of columns a week right
here in the Edmundton Courier. The papers are bleedin' him to death,
certain."

"How much have you spent?" asked the Honourable Hilary.

The Honourable Adam screwed up his face and pulled his goatee
thoughtfully.

"What are you trying to get at, Hilary," he inquired, sending for me to
meet you out here in the woods in this curious way? If you wanted to see
me, why didn't you get me to go down to Ripton, or come up and sit on my
porch? You've been there before."

"Times," said the Honourable Hilary, repeating, perhaps unconsciously,
Mr. Hunt's words, "are uncommon. This man Crewe's making more headway
than you think. The people don't know him, and he's struck a popular
note. It's the fashion to be down