and
its occupants.

"First turn to the right, second to the left," I said, sullenly.

"Thank you, Reuben," vouchsafed the young man. "Here's hoping that your
vegetables are fresher than your jokes. Go ahead, Oscar."

The chauffeur threw in the clutch and the car buzzed up the road,
turning the corner at full speed. There was a loose board projecting
from the bridge just under my feet. As a member--though an inactive
one--of the Village Improvement Society I should have trodden it back
into place. I didn't; I kicked it into the brook.

Then I walked on. But the remainder of my march was a silent one,
without music. I did not whistle.

CHAPTER II

The post-office was at Eldredge's store, and Eldredge's store, situated
at the corners, where the Main Road and the Depot Road--which is also
the direct road to South Denboro--join, was the mercantile and social
center of Denboro. Simeon Eldredge kept the store, and Simeon was also
postmaster, as well as the town constable, undertaker, and auctioneer.
If you wanted a spool of thread, a coffin, or the latest bit of gossip,
you applied at Eldredge's. The gossip you could be morally certain of
getting at once; the thread or the coffin you might have to wait for.

I scarcely know why I went to Eldredge's that morning. I did not
expect mail, and I did not require Simeon's services in any one of his
professional capacities. Possibly Lute's suggestion had some sort of
psychic effect and I stopped at the post-office involuntarily. At any
rate, I woke from the trance in which the encounter with the automobile
had left me to find myself walking in at the door.

The mail was not yet due, to say nothing of having arrived or been
sorted, but there was a fair-sized crowd on the settees and perched on
the edge of the counter. Ezra Mullet was there, and Alonzo Black and
Alvin Baker and Thoph Newcomb. Beriah Doane and Sam Cahoon, who lived
in South Denboro, were there, too, having driven over behind Beriah's
horse, on an errand; that is, Beriah had an errand and Sam came along to
help him remember it. In the rear of the store, by the frame of letter
boxes, Captain Jedediah Dean was talking with Simeon.

Alvin Baker saw me first and hailed me as I entered.

"Here's Ros Paine," he exclaimed. "He'll know more about it than anybody
else. Hey, Ros, how many hired help does he keep, anyhow? Thoph says
it's eight, but I know I counted more'n that, myself."

"It's eight, I tell you,"