he went
back to that office.

On the fourth morning the prodigal came home, the stray lamb returned
to the fold--Mr. Keeler returned to his desk and his duties. There was
a premonition of his return at the Snow breakfast table. For three days
Mrs. Ellis had swathed her head in white and her soul in black. For
three days her favorite accompaniment to conversation had been a groan
or a sigh. Now, on this fourth morning, she appeared without the bandage
on her brow or the crape upon her spirit. She was not hilarious but
she did not groan once, and twice during the meal she actually smiled.
Captain Lote commented upon the change, she being absent from table
momentarily.

"Whew!" he observed, in an undertone, addressing his wife. "If it ain't
a comfort to see the wrinkles on Rachel's face curvin' up instead of
down. I'm scared to death that she'll go out some time in a cold spell
when she's havin' one of them sympathetics of hers, and her face'll
freeze that way. Well, Albert," turning to his grandson, "the colors'll
be h'isted to the truck now instead of half-mast and life'll be
somethin' besides one everlastin' 'last look at the remains.' Now we can
take off the mournin' till the next funeral."

"Yes," said Olive, "and Laban'll be back, too. I'm sure you must have
missed him awfully, Zelotes."

"Missed him! I should say so. For one thing, I miss havin' him between
me and Issy. When Labe's there Is talks to him and Labe keeps on
thinkin' of somethin' else and so it don't worry him any. I can't do
that, and my eardrums get to wearin' thin and that makes me nervous.
Maybe you've noticed that Issy's flow of conversation ain't what you'd
call a trickle," he added, turning to Albert.

Albert had noticed it. "But," he asked, "what makes Rachel--Mrs.
Ellis--so cheerful this morning? Does she know that Mr. Keeler will be
back at work? How does she know? She hasn't seen him, has she?"

"No," replied the captain. "She ain't seen him. Nobody sees him, far's
that goes. He generally clears out somewheres and locks himself up in
a room, I judge, till his vacation's over. I suppose that's one way to
have fun, but it ain't what I'd call hilarious."

"Don't, Zelotes," said Mrs. Snow. "I do wish you wouldn't call it fun."

"I don't, but Laban seems to. If he don't do it for fun I don't know
what he does it for. Maybe it's from a sense of duty. It ain't to oblige
me, I know that."

Albert repeated his question. "But how does she k