paring my
meals. I am willing to pay liberally for what I receive."

"This room, with board," remarked Hopper, setting down the suit cases
in the front corner bedchamber, "will cost you a dollar a day, or five
dollars a week--if you eat our reg'lar meals. If ye keep callin' fer
extrys, I'll hev to charge ye extry."

"Very reasonable; very reasonable, indeed," declared the stranger,
taking a roll of bills from his pocket. "As I am at present unknown to
you, I beg you to accept this five-dollar bill in advance. And now, if
you will bring me a pitcher of ice-water, I will take my needed siesta.
My nerves, as you may have observed, are at somewhat of a tension
to-day."

"We're out o' ice," remarked the landlord, pocketing the money, "but
ye'll find plenty of good cold water at the pump in the back yard.
Anything else, sir?"

"I thank you, no. I am not thirsty. Ice-water is not necessary to my
happiness. You will pardon me if I ask to be left alone--with my
nerves."

Hopper went away chuckling. His wife and Mary Ann were both at the foot
of the stairs, lying in wait to question him.

"That feller's as good as a circus," he asserted, taking off his coat
again and lighting his corncob pipe. "He's got nerves an' money, an'
he's come here to git rid of 'em both."

"Who is he?" demanded Mrs. Hopper.

"By gum, I fergot to ask him. I got thanked fer ev'rything I did an'
ev'rything I couldn't do, an' I've got five dollars o' his money in my
jeans as a evidence o' good faith. The whole performance sort o'
knocked me out."

"No wonder," asserted, his wife sympathetically.

"I'll bet he's some punkins, though," declared Mary Ann, "an' he'll be
a godsend to us after a dull week. Only, remember this, if he kicks on
the feed he don't git no satisfaction out o' me."

"I don't think he'll kick on anything," said her father. "He wants eggs
for his supper, in a omelet."

"He couldn't want anything that's cheaper to make," said Mrs. Hopper.
"The hens are layin' fine jus' now."

"When he comes down, make him register," suggested Mary Ann. "If ye
don't, we won't know what ter call him."

"I'll call him an easy mark, whatever his name is," said the landlord,
grinning at his own attempt at wit.

The stranger kept his room until five o'clock. Then he came down, spick
and span, his cane under his arm, upon his hands a pair of bright
yellow kid gloves.

"I will now indulge in my walk," said he, addressing the family group
in th