round and get Hiram Sawyer. My boys
is to singing-school, and it was a Special Ordering that I happened to
look out of window just that moment of time. Where did you say he--"

"Oh, do let me speak, Mis' Weight!" broke in Direxia, in a shrill
half-whisper. "Don't speak so loud! She'll hear ye, and she's in one of
her takings, and I dono--lands sakes, I don't know what _to_ do! I dono
who he is, or whence he comes, but she--"

"Direxia Hawkes!" barked Mrs. Tree from the head of the stairs.

"There! you hear her!" murmured Direxia. "Oh, she is the beat of all!
I'm comin', Mis' Tree!"

She fled up the stairs; her mistress, bending forward, darted a
whispered arrow at her.

"Oh, my Solemn Deliverance!" cried Direxia Hawkes.

"Hot water, directly, and don't make a fool of yourself!" said Mrs.
Tree; and her stick tapped its way down-stairs.

"Good evening, Malvina. What can I do for you? Pray step in."

Mrs. Weight sidled into the parlor before a rather awful wave of the
ebony stick, and sat down on the edge of a chair near the door. Mrs.
Tree crossed the room to her own high-backed armchair, took her seat
deliberately, put her feet on the crimson hassock, and leaned forward,
resting her hands on the crutch-top of her stick, and her chin on her
hands. In this attitude she looked more elfin than human, and the light
that danced in her black eyes was not of a reassuring nature.

"What can I do for you?" she repeated.

Mrs. Weight bridled, and spoke in a tone half-timid, half-defiant.

"I'm sure, Mis' Tree, it's not on my own account I come. I'm the last
one to intrude, as any one in this village can tell you. But you are an
anncient woman, and your neighbors are bound to protect you when need
is. I see that tramp come in here with my own eyes, and he's here for no
good."

"What tramp?" asked Mrs. Tree.

"Good land, Mis' Tree, didn't you see him? He slipped right in past
Direxia. I see him with these eyes."

"When?"

"'Most an hour ago. I've been watching ever since. Don't tell me you
didn't know about him bein' here, Mis' Tree, now don't."

"I won't," said Mrs. Tree, benevolently.

"He's hid away somewheres!" Mrs. Weight continued, with rising
excitement. "Direxia Hawkes has hid him; he's an accomplish of hers.
You've always trusted that woman, Mis' Tree, but I tell you I've had my
eye on her these ten years, and now I've found her out. She's hid him
away somewheres, I tell you. There's cupboards and cluse