ow, then--guess you understand. See you in the morning for the final
touches. Tell Mr. Higgins I'm waiting outside for him to drive me home."
He raised his voice. "Good afternoon, Miss Vail," he said, and stepped
out onto the lawn.

--VIII--

IN WHICH THE BAIT IS NIBBLED

There was a group around the Flopper on the Portland platform beside the
Bar Harbor express; some wore pitying expressions, others smiled a
little tolerantly--Pale Face Harry, from the circle, sneered openly.

"Nutty!" he coughed, and touched his forehead. "Nothing doing in the
upper story--some one ought to look after him."

The Flopper, a crippled thing on the ground, fixed Pale Face Harry with
a pointed forefinger.

"Youse don't look like you had many weeps to spare for anybody but
yerself--yer fallin' to pieces," said the Flopper. "I didn't ask you nor
any of youse to butt in--I was talkin' to dis lady here"--he motioned
toward a young woman in a wheeled, invalid chair, who, between a trained
nurse on one side and a gentleman on the other, was regarding him with a
startled expression in her eyes.

She turned now and spoke to the gentleman beside her.

"Robert," she said, in a low, anxious tone, "do you think that--that
there can be anything in it?"

"Have you lost your head, Naida?" the man laughed. "The age of miracles
has passed."

"But he is so _sure_," she whispered.

"Poppycock!" said her companion contemptuously.

The Flopper, in good, if unfashionable and ready-made clothes, fresh
linen, and a clean shave, turned a bright, intelligent face on the man
at this remark.

"I guess youse are de kind," he said, with a grim smile, "dat ain't had
to kill yerself worryin' much about any kind of trouble, an' it ain't
nothin' to you to cut de ground of hope out from another guy's feet an'
let him slide. Mabbe you think I'm nutty too, because I know I'm goin'
to be cured--but it don't hurt you none to have me think so, does it?
Mabbe someday you might like to hope a little yerself, an' if--"

"'Board! All aboard!"--the conductor's voice boomed down the platform.

The young woman leaned forward in her chair toward the Flopper.

"I know what it is to hope," she said softly. "Will you come back into
our car after awhile? I'd like to have you tell me more about this.
Please do."

"Sure," said the Flopper amiably. "Sure, mum, I will, if youse wants me
to."

The crowd broke up, hurrying for the train; and the Flopper, dragging a