ightly down the path to the creek and
the wharf. The boathouse at the end of the wharf offered a convenient
refuge. Into the building he darted, closed the door behind him, and
collapsed upon a heap of fish nets.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Mr. Atkins, apparently quite recovered,
was sitting in the kitchen rocker, reading a last week's newspaper, one
of a number procured on his most recent trip to the village. The Stovers
and their guest had departed. Their buggy was out of sight beyond the
dunes. A slight noise startled the lightkeeper, and he looked up. His
helper was standing in the doorway, upon his face an expression of
intense and delighted surprise.

"What?" exclaimed Mr. Brown. "What? Is it really you?"

Seth put down the paper and nodded.

"Um-hm," he observed drily, "it's really me."

"Up? and WELL?" queried Brown.

"Um-hm. Pretty well, considerin', thank you. Been for a stroll up
Washin'ton Street, have you? Or a little walk on the Common, maybe?"

The elaborate sarcasm of these questions was intended to be withering.
Mr. Brown, however, did not wither. Neither did he blush.

"I have been," he said, "down at the boathouse. I knew you were in safe
hands and well looked after, so I went away. I couldn't remain here and
hear you suffer."

"Hum! HEAR me suffer, hey? Much obliged, I'm sure. What have you been
doin' there all this time? I hoped you was--that is, I begun to be
afraid you was dead. Thought your sympathy for me had been too much for
you, maybe."

Brown mournfully shook his head. "It was--almost," he said, solemnly. "I
think I dropped asleep. I was quite overcome."

"Hum! Better take a dose of that 'Stomach Balm,' hadn't you? That'll
liven you up, I'll guarantee."

"No, thank you. The sight of you, well and strong again, is all the
medicine I need. We must keep the 'Balm' in case you have another
attack. By the way, I notice the dinner dishes haven't been washed. I'll
do them at once. I know you must be tired, after your illness--and the
exertion of showing your guests about the lights."

Atkins did not answer, although he seemed to want to very much. However,
he made no objection when his helper, rolling up his sleeves, turned to
the sink and the dish washing.

Seth was silent all the rest of the afternoon and during supper. But
that evening, as Brown sat on the bench outside, Atkins joined him.

"Hello!" said Seth, as cheerfully as if nothing had happened.

"Hello!" replied t