mercy but he would not give it to them.
He set himself a "stint"; he would see what was beyond the clump of
lilacs, then he would rest, and then he would hobble back to the Minot
yard. Incidentally he realized that he had been a fool ever to leave it.

His teeth grimly set and each step a labor, he plodded up the little
rise and turned the corner of the lilac bushes. There he stopped, not
entirely because his "stint" was done, but because what he saw surprised
him.

Beyond the lilacs was a small garden, or rather a series of small
gardens. The divisions between them appeared to be exactly the same size
and the plots themselves precisely the same size and shape. There
were--although the captain did not learn this until later--seven of
these plots, each exactly six by nine feet. But there resemblance
ceased, for each was planted and arranged with a marked individuality.
For example, the one nearest the lilac bushes was laid out in a sort of
checkerboard pattern of squares, one square containing a certain sort of
old-fashioned flower and its neighbors other varieties. The plot
adjoining the checkerboard was arranged in diamonds and spirals; the
planting here was floral also, whereas the next was evidently
utilitarian, being given up entirely to corn, potatoes, onions, beets
and other vegetables. And the next seemed to be covered with nothing
except a triumphant growth of weeds.

At the rear of these odd garden plots was a little octagonal building,
evidently a summer-house. Over its door, a door fronting steps leading
down to the gardens, was a sign bearing the name "The Eyrie." And behind
the summer-house was a stretch of rather shabby lawn, a half dozen
trees, and the rear of a large house. Captain Sears recognized the house
as the Seymour residence, now the "Fair Harbor." He had strayed off the
course and was trespassing upon his neighbors' premises. This fact was
immediately brought to his attention. From somewhere at the rear of the
gardens a shrill feminine voice exclaimed:

"Mercy on us! Who's that?"

And another feminine voice chimed in:

"Eh! I declare it's a man, ain't it?"

And the first voice observed sharply:

"Of course it is. You didn't think I thought it was a cow, did you?"

"But what's he doin' here? Is he a tramp?

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. Hi! Here! You--man--where are
you going?"

Captain Sears had, by this time, located the voices as coming from the
"Eyrie," the summer-ho