itectural period. There were truncated
towers, a mansard roof, hideous dormers, and a reckless outbreak of
perfectly useless bay windows. The house, which was large, stood
aloof from the road, with a small plantation of evergreen trees
before it. It had not been painted for years, and loomed up like the
vaguest shadow of a dwelling even in the brilliant moonlight.
Suddenly Jim caught sight of a tiny swinging gleam of light. It
bobbed along at the height of a man's knee. It was a lantern, which
seemed rather an odd article to be used on such a night. Then Jim
came face to face with the man who carried the lantern, and saw who
he was--Deacon Amos Whittle. To Jim's mind, the man resembled a fox,
skulking along the road, although Deacon Amos Whittle was not
predatory. He was a small, thin, wiry man with a queer swirl of white
whisker, and hopping gait.

He seemed somewhat blinded by his lantern, for he ran full tilt into
Jim, who stood the shock with such firmness that the older man
staggered back, and danced uncertainly to recover his balance. Deacon
Amos Whittle stuttered uncertain remarks, as was his wont when
startled. "It is only Jim Dodge," said Jim. "Guess your lantern sort
of blinded you, Deacon."

Then the lantern almost blinded Jim, for Whittle swung it higher
until it came on a level with Jim's eyes. Over it peered Whittle's
little keen ones, spectacled under a gray shag of eyebrows. "Oh it is
you!" said the man with a somewhat contemptuous accent. He held Jim
in slight esteem.

Jim laughed lightly. Unless he cared for people, their opinion of him
always seemed a perfectly negligible matter, and he did not care at
all for Amos Whittle.

Suddenly, to his amazement, Amos took hold of his coat. "Look a'
here, Jim," said he.

"Well?"

"Do you know anything about that strange woman that's boardin' to
Mis' Solomon Black's?"

"How in creation should I know anything about her?"

"Hev you seen her?"

"I saw her at the fair tonight."

"The fair at my house?"

"Don't know of any other fair."

"Well, what do you think of her?"

"Don't think of her."

Jim tried to pass, but the old man danced before him with his
swinging lantern.

"I must be going along," said Jim.

"Wait a minute. Do you know she bought the whole fair?"

"Yes, I do. You are blinding me with that lantern, Deacon Whittle."

"And she paid good money down. I seen it."

"All right. I've got to get past you."

"Wait a minute. Do you s