nd he
with his reading, but the conversation was the first of many between the
pair. The housekeeper appeared to consider his having read her beloved
Foul Play a sort of password admitting him to her lodge and that
thereafter they were, in consequence, to be confidants and comrades. She
never hesitated to ask him the most personal questions concerning his
work, his plans, the friends or acquaintances he was making in the
village. Some of those questions he answered honestly and fully, some he
dodged, some he did not answer at all. Mrs. Ellis never resented his not
answering. "I presume likely that ain't any of my business, is it?" she
would say, and ask about something else.

On the other hand, she was perfectly outspoken concerning her own
affairs. He was nearly overcome with hilarious joy when, one day, she
admitted that, in her mind, Robert Penfold, the hero of Foul Play, lived
again in the person of Laban Keeler.

"Why, Mrs. Ellis," he cried, as soon as he could trust himself to speak
at all, "I don't see THAT. Penfold was a six-footer, wasn't he?
And--and athletic, you know, and--and a minister, and young--younger, I
mean--and--"

Rachel interrupted. "Yes, yes, I know," she said. "And Laban is little,
and not very young, and, whatever else he is, he ain't a minister. I
know all that. I know the outside of him don't look like Robert Penfold
at all. But," somewhat apologetically, "you see I've been acquainted
with him so many years I've got into the habit of seein' his INSIDE.
Now that sounds kind of ridiculous, I know," she added. "Sounds as if
I--I--well, as if I was in the habit of takin' him apart, like a watch
or somethin'. What I mean is that I know him all through. I've known him
for a long, long while. He ain't much to look at, bein' so little and
sort of dried up, but he's got a big, fine heart and big brains. He can
do 'most anything he sets his hand to. When I used to know him, when I
was a girl, folks was always prophesyin' that Laban Keeler would turn
out to be a whole lot more'n the average. He would, too, only for one
thing, and you know what that is. It's what has kept me from marryin'
him all this time. I swore I'd never marry a man that drinks, and I
never will. Why, if it wasn't for liquor Labe would have been runnin'
his own business and gettin' rich long ago. He all but runs Cap'n Lote's
place as 'tis. The cap'n and a good many other folks don't realize that,
but it's so."

It was plain that