another road--ah--on foot, you know--until I
reached a second crossroad which would, he said, bring me directly into
Wellmouth Middle--ah--Centre, I should say. He told me that Mr. Hall
lived there."

"Well, he told you wrong. Hall lives up to East Wellmouth. But what
I can't get a-hold of is how you come to fetch up way off here. The
Centre's three mile or more astern of us; I've just come from there."

"Oh, dear me! I must have lost my way. I was quite sure of it. It seemed
to me I had been walking a very long time."

Mr. Pulcifer laughed. "Haw, haw!" he guffawed, "I should say you had!
I tell you what you done, Mister; you walked right past that crossroad
Nelse told you to turn in at. THAT would have fetched you to the Centre.
Instead of doin' it you kept on as you was goin' and here you be 'way
out in the fag-end of nothin'. The Centre's three mile astern and East
Wellmouth's about two and a ha'f ahead. Haw, haw! that's a good one,
ain't it!"

His companion's laugh was not enthusiastic. It was as near a groan as
a laugh could well be. He put the yellow suitcase down in the mud and
looked wearily up and down the fog-draped road. There was little of it
to be seen, but that little was not promising.

"Dear me!" he exclaimed. "Dear me!" And then added, under his breath:
"Oh, dear!"

Mr. Pulcifer regarded him intently. A new idea was beginning to dawn
beneath the plaid cap.

"Say, Mister," he said, suddenly, "you're in a bad scrape, ain't you?"

"I beg your pardon? What? Yes, I am--I fear I am. Is it--is it a VERY
long walk back to Wellmouth?"

"To the Centre? Three good long Cape Cod miles."

"And is the-ah--the road good?"

"'Bout as you see it most of the way. Macadam ain't so bad, but if you
step off it you're liable to go under for the third time."

"Dear me! Dear me!"

"Dear me's right, I cal'late. But what do you want to go to the Centre
for? Hall don't live there. He lives on ahead here--at East Wellmouth."

"Yes--that's true, that's true. So you said. But the South Wellmouth
station man--"

"Oh, never mind Nelse Howard. He's a smart Aleck and talks too much,
anyhow. He made a mistake, that's all. Now I tell you, Mister, I'm goin'
to East Wellmouth myself. Course I don't make a business of carryin'
passengers and this trip is goin' to be some out of my way. Gasoline and
ile are pretty expensive these days, too, but--Eh? What say?"

The pale face beneath the derby hat for the first time showed