versity circle, is missing."

An oppressive silence followed this remark. Mr. Bland's sly eyes sought
quickly the professor's face. The older man sat staring at his plate;
then he raised his head and the round spectacles were turned full on
Magee.

"You are very kind," said Professor Bolton evenly.

"There is another story in this paper," went on Mr. Magee, glancing at
the haberdasher, "that, it seems to me, I ought to taboo as table talk
at Baldpate Inn. It relates that a few days ago the youthful cashier of
a bank in a small Pennsylvania town disappeared with thirty thousand
dollars of the bank's funds. No," he concluded, "we are simply here,
gentlemen, and I am very glad to let it go at that."

Mr. Bland sneered knowingly.

"I should think you would be," he said. "If you'll turn that paper over
you'll read on the back page that day before yesterday a lot of
expensive paintings in a New York millionaire's house were cut from
their frames, and that the young artist who was doing retouching in the
house at the time has been just careless enough not to send his address
to the police. It's a small matter, of course, and the professor and I
will never mention it again."

Mr. Magee threw back his head and laughed heartily.

"We understand one another, it seems," he said. "I look forward to
pleasant companionship where I had expected solitude. You will excuse me
now--there is the work to which I referred. Ah, here's Peters," he added
as the hermit entered through the dining-room door at the side of the
stairs.

"All finished, gentlemen?" he asked, coming forward. "Now, this is solid
comfort, ain't it? I reckon when you get a few days of this, you'll all
become hermits, and build yourselves shacks on the mountain. Solid
comfort. No woman to make you put on overshoes when you go out, or
lecture you about the effects of alcohol on the stomach. Heaven, I call
it."

"Peters," said Mr. Magee, "we have been wondering if you will stay on
here and cook for us. We need you. How about it?"

"Well--I'll be glad to help you out," the hermit replied. "I guess I can
manage to give satisfaction, seeing there ain't no women around. If
there was, I wouldn't think of it. Yes, I'll stay and do what I can to
boost the hermit life in your estimation. I--"

He stopped. His eyes were on the dining-room door, toward which Mr.
Magee's back was turned. The jaw of Peters fell, and his mouth stood
wide open. Behind the underbrush of beard