strange to his townspeople and utterly incomprehensible to his father.
Something vague about biology and chemical experiments and the like is
what he spoke of, and, when his parents objected on the grounds of
possible explosions and other weird accidents, he prevailed upon his
father to have a secluded laboratory built for him in the woods.

When the workmen started the small frame structure not a quarter of a
mile from his own hut, Old Crompton was furious. He raged and stormed,
but to no avail. Tom Forsythe had his heart set on the project and he
was somewhat of a successful debater himself. The fire that flashed from
his cold gray eyes matched that from the pale blue ones of the elderly
anchorite. And the law was on his side.

So the building was completed and Tom Forsythe moved in, bag and
baggage.

For more than a year the hermit studiously avoided his neighbor, though,
truth to tell, this required very little effort. For Tom Forsythe became
almost as much of a recluse as his predecessor, remaining indoors for
days at a time and visiting the home of his people scarcely oftener than
Old Crompton visited the village. He too became the target of village
gossip and his name was ere long linked with that of the old man in
similar animadversion. But he cared naught for the opinions of his
townspeople nor for the dark looks of suspicion that greeted him on his
rare appearances in the public places. His chosen work engrossed him so
deeply that all else counted for nothing. His parents remonstrated with
him in vain. Tom laughed away their recriminations and fears, continuing
with his labors more strenuously than ever. He never troubled his mind
over the nearness of Old Crompton's hut, the existence of which he
hardly noticed or considered.

* * * * *

It so happened one day that the old man's curiosity got the better of
him and Tom caught him prowling about on his property, peering
wonderingly at the many rabbit hutches, chicken coops, dove cotes and
the like which cluttered the space to the rear of the laboratory.

Seeing that he was discovered, the old man wrinkled his face into a
toothless grin of conciliation.

"Just looking over your place, Forsythe," he said. "Sorry about the fuss
I made when you built the house. But I'm an old man, you know, and
changes are unwelcome. Now I have forgotten my objections and would like
to be friends. Can we?"

Tom peered searchingly into the flin