They crowded the porch to watch the fireworks on the mountain; they
swept over the smooth space and the roadway in front of the Inn, looking
up at it and remarking upon the quaint charm of it, the desirability of
its location, its attractiveness as a resort. Tom heard one pretty girl
planning a luncheon here next week; he heard a group of men talking
about entertaining a visiting delegation of bankers up here at Boswell's
out of the heat.

Everywhere people were asking, "Why haven't we known about this?" and to
one and another Arthur Haskins, in Tom's hearing, was saying such things
as, "Just opened up. Jolly place, isn't it? Going to be the most popular
anywhere around. Deserves it, too."

"But is the table as good every day as it is to-night?" one skeptic
inquired.

"Better." Haskins might have been an owner of the place, he was so
prompt with his flattering statements. "First time I came up was with a
crowd of fellows. We took them unawares, and they served a supper that
made us smile all over. Their cook can't be beaten--and the service is
first-class."

It was over at last. But it was at a late hour that the first cars began
to roll away down the hill, and later still when the last got under way.
They carried a gay company, and the final rockets, spurting from West
Peak, flashed before the faces of people in the high good humour of
those who have been successfully and uniquely entertained.

The Lieutenant-Governor and his wife had gone to the pink and white
welcome of the bridal suite when Perkins at last came strolling
downstairs. Only Haskins's party remained in the flag-hung lobby, the
women sheathing themselves in veils, as their motor chugged at the porch
steps.

Haskins turned as Perkins crossed the lobby. He stared an instant, then
advanced with outstretched hand, smiling.

"Why, Mr. Parker," he said, "I didn't know you were here. Doctor Austin
was asking me to-day if I knew where you were. He seems to have got you
on his mind. He'll be delighted to see you. I'll call him--he's just
outside. He's with our party."

With an expression half dismayed, half amused, Perkins looked after the
Mercury Club's secretary as he darted to the outer door, where a big
figure in a motoring coat was pacing up and down.

Tom, leaning over the office desk, looked at Perkins. But Haskins had
called the man "Parker." What----?

The big figure in the motoring coat came hurriedly in at the doorway and
grasped the han