He looked up in surprise as I came out.

"Well, for thunder sakes!" he exclaimed, in astonishment. "It's Ros
Paine! What in the nation are you doin' in here, Ros? Ain't married into
the family, have ye? Haw, haw!"

I could have kicked him for that pleasantry--if he had not been just
then too important a personage to kick. As it was, his chance remark
knocked my errand out of my head, momentarily.

"How's the old man, Ros?" he whispered. "They tell me it's brought on by
high livin', champagne wine and such. Is it?"

"Phin," said I, ignoring the question, "would you stay up all night for
twenty dollars?"

He stared at me.

"What kind of conundrum's that?" he demanded. "'Would I set up all night
for twenty dollars?' That may be a joke, but--"

"Would you? I mean it. Mr. Colton is sick and his daughter needs some
one to send and receive messages over their private telegraph wire. She
will pay you twenty dollars--or I will, if she doesn't--if you will stay
here and do that for her. Will you?"

For a minute he sat there staring at me.

"You mean it, Ros?" he asked, slowly. "You do, hey! I thought
p'raps--but no, it's long past April Fool day. WILL I do it? Show me the
telegraph place quick, afore I wake up and come out of the ether. Twenty
dollars! Consarn it, I send messages all the week for twelve, and hustle
freight and sell tickets into the bargain. I ain't had no supper, but
never mind. Make it twenty-five and I'll stay all day to-morrer."

I led him into the library and explained his presence to Miss Colton.
She was delighted.

"It is SO good of you, Mr. Cahoon," she exclaimed. "And you shan't
starve, either. I will have some supper sent in to you at once. You can
eat it while you are at work, can't you?"

She hurried out to order the supper. Phineas, in accordance with my
request, seated himself in the little room adjoining the library, before
the telegraph instrument.

"Thunder!" he observed, looking about him. "I never expected to send
messages for King Solomon in all his glory, but I cal'late I can stand
it if Sol can. S'pose there'd be any objection to my takin' off my coat?
Comes more nat'ral to work in my shirt sleeves."

I bade him take it off and he did so.

"This feller's in some hurry," he said, nodding toward the clicking
instrument. "Shall I tell him we're on deck and ready for business?"

"Yes, tell him."

His long fingers busied themselves with the sender. A sharp series of
clicks a