d of Tom's guest. "Parker," he cried, "what are you doing
here? Are you responsible for this panjandrum to-night? Didn't I send
you off for an absolute rest?"

"Been obeying directions strictly, Doctor. I've lain around up here till
the grass sprouted under my feet. You haven't seen me here to-night,
have you?"

"No, but the thing looks like one of your managing."

"No interest in this place whatever. Never heard of it till I stumbled
on it." But Perkins's eyes were dancing.

"You're looking a lot better, anyhow. Come out here and meet Mrs.
Austin. I want to show her the toughest patient I ever had to pull loose
from his work."

The two went out upon the porch. Tom gazed at young Haskins, as the
latter looked at him with a smile.

"Did he engineer this part of the thing, too, Boswell?" questioned the
young man, interestedly.

"Sure, he did. But who is he?"

"Didn't you know who he was? That's so--you've called him Perkins all
along, but this is the first time I've seen him here, and I didn't put
two and two together. His letters and 'phones about this supper came
from in town somewhere. Why, he's Chris Parker, the biggest hotel man in
the country. Nobody like him--he'd make the deadest hotel in the
loneliest hamlet pay in a month. Head of all the hotel organizations you
can count. Most original chap in the world. Doctor Austin was telling me
to-night about ordering him off for a rest because he'd put such a lot
of nerve tension into his schemes he was on the edge of a bad breakdown.
Well, well, you're mighty lucky if you've got him backing you. No other
man on earth could have got the Mercury Club up here to-night--a place
they'd never heard of."

So Tom was thinking. He was still thinking it when the motor car shot
away down the hill with its load, the physician calling back at his
ex-patient: "Don't get going too soon again, Parker! So far, so good,
but don't----"

The last words were lost in a final boom from West Peak.

Tom went slowly out upon the porch, feeling embarrassed and uncertain.
How could he ever express his gratitude to this mighty man of valour?

"Perkins" was sitting, as usual, astride the porch rail, the red light
of his cigar glowing against the dark background of the mountains where
the bonfires were dying to mere sparks. He looked around as Tom
appeared, and grinned in a friendly way under the Chinese lanterns.

"Tough luck, to get caught at the last minute, eh?" he said.

"Mr. Pe