to write a letter
sayin' it was all off between 'em. Well, he'd begun the letter but
he never finished it, for three nights runnin' he dreamed that awful
trouble was hangin' over him. That dream made such an impression on him
that he tore the letter up and married the Dimick woman after all. And
then--I didn't know this until Angie told me--it turned out that she
had heard he was goin' to give her the go-by and had made all her
arrangements to sue him for breach of promise if he did. That was the
awful trouble, you see, and the dream saved him from it."

I smiled. "The fault there was in the interpretation of the dream," I
said. "The 'awful trouble' of the breach of promise suit wouldn't have
been a circumstance to the trouble poor Uncle Bedny got into by marrying
Ann Dimick. THAT trouble lasted till he died."

Hephzibah laughed and said she guessed that was so, she hadn't thought
of it in that way.

"Probably dreams are all nonsense," she admitted. "Usually, I don't pay
much attention to 'em. But when I dream of poor 'Little Frank,' away off
there, I--"

"Come into the sitting-room, Jim," I put in hastily. "I have a cigar or
two there. I don't buy them in Bayport, either."

"And who," asked Jim, as we sat smoking by the fire, "is Little Frank?"

"He is a mythical relative of ours," I explained, shortly. "He was born
twenty years ago or so--at least we heard that he was; and we haven't
heard anything of him since, except by the dream route, which is not
entirely convincing. He is Hephzy's pet obsession. Kindly forget him, to
oblige me."

He looked puzzled, but he did not mention "Little Frank" again, for
which I was thankful.

That afternoon we walked up to the village, stopping in at Simmons's
store, which is also the post-office, for the mail. Captain Cyrus
Whittaker happened to be there, also Asaph Tidditt and Bailey Bangs and
Sylvanus Cahoon and several others. I introduced Campbell to the crowd
and he seemed to be enjoying himself. When we came out and were walking
home again, he observed:

"That Whittaker is an interesting chap, isn't he?"

"Yes," I said. "He is all right. Been everywhere and seen everything."

"And that," with an odd significance in his tone, "may possibly help to
make him interesting, don't you think?"

"I suppose so. He lives here in Bayport now, though."

"So I gathered. Popular, is he?"

"Very."

"Satisfied with life?"

"Seems to be."

"Hum! No one calls HIM a--what is