his writin' a note, I figger he ain't comin' over," he remarked, as
the object drew nearer. "I wonder what's stuck in his crop! Mebbe
Mis' Eldridge won't let him out. She's something of a Tartar--Arabella
is. Jan has to walk the plank, I can tell you."

By this time the cigar box swaying on the taut twine was within easy
reach. Willie raised its cover and took from its interior a crumpled
fragment of paper.

"Humph! He's mighty savin'!" he commented as he turned the missive
over. "He's writ on the other side of my letter. Let's see what he
has to say:

"'Can't come. Busy.'

"Well, did you ever!" gasped he, blankly. "_Busy_! Good Lord! Jan's
never been known to be busy in all his life. He don't even know the
feelin'. If Janoah Eldridge is busy, all I've got to say is, the
world's goin' to be swallered up by another deluge."

"Maybe, as you suggested, Mrs. Eldridge--"

"Oh, if it had been Mis' Eldridge, he wouldn't 'a' took the trouble to
send no such message as that," broke in Willie. "He'd simply 'a' writ
_Arabella_; there wouldn't 'a' been need fur more. No, sir!
Somethin's stepped on Jan's shadder, an' to-morrow I'll have to go
straight over there an' find out what it is."

CHAPTER V

AN APPARITION

The next morning, after loitering uneasily about the workshop a
sufficiently long time for Janoah Eldridge to make his appearance and
finding that his crony did not make his appearance, Willie reluctantly
took his worn visor cap down from the peg and drew it over his brows,
with the remark:

"Looks like Jan ain't headed this way to-day, either." He cast a
troubled glance through the dusty, multi-paned window of the shed.
"Much as I'm longin' to go ahead with this model, Bob, before I go
farther I've simply got to step over to the Eldridges an' straighten
him out. There's no help fur it."

"All right. Go ahead, Sir," reassuringly returned Bob. "I'll work
while you're gone. Things won't be at a complete standstill."

"I know that," Willie replied with a pleasant smile. "'Tain't that
that's frettin' me. It's just that I don't relish the notion of
shovin' my job onto your shoulders. 'Tain't as if you'd come to Wilton
to spend your time workin'. Celestina hinted last evenin' she was
afraid you bid fair to get but mighty little rest out of your vacation.
'Twas unlucky, she thought, that you hove into port just when I
happened to be kitched with a bigger idee than common."